#re-reading this and I want to make my tone clear

[mesetacadre]

Regarding your post on Stalin and Lenin, I want to ask in good faith: how can honest Communists, in good conscience, acknowledge the material harm and the death tolls of the deportations of the Crimean Tatars, Soviet Koreans, and Chechens + Ingush carried out by Stalin's administration?

I at least understand why Marxist-Leninists dispute calling the Holodomor and Kazakh famines genocides, on the grounds that they came about as a mix of failed policy, bad weather, and unintended consequences.

However, while Stalin's influence on the Famines is debatable, allowing the deportations to be carried out (which DO constitute a genocide) must certainly fall on his head. This is doubly so because Lavrentiy Beria - the principal architect of the Crimean Tatar and Chechen deportations - was a close ally of Stalin.

A big reason I ask this is because I frequently see other communists either gloss over the material harm of these deportations, or treat them as a regrettable footnote in an otherwise proud career. I find both approaches problematic, because I do not see them as an honest assessment of Stalin's wrongdoing with regards to ethnic minorities within the Soviet Union.

I thank you for your time, and I look forward to reading your assessment, should you chose to answer it. Have a good day.

[context]

I'll get to the ask itself in a moment, but first I want to point out how you're doing exactly what the post you're replying to is criticizing, how every mistake and imperfect policy of the USSR between 1924 and 1953 is scapegoated to Stalin. You're ignoring both the very important structures of democracy and accountability within the party as well as in the administration of the state. He wasn't a dictator and policy was not a direct extension of the man's thoughts. The party leadership was a collective organ made up of at least a dozen people, of which Stalin was simply the chairman, with the same vote as everyone else. And every single one of these members were beholden to democratic recall at any time.

Let's start on the common ground, we understand that the famine which struck Ukraine, southern Russia and western Kazakhstan in the early 1930s has a context of cyclical famines, grain hoarding, rushed collectivization, and bad weather. There has been a strong effort on the part of capitalist powers to both exaggerate the effects of the famine and to place it all with intent to exterminate Ukranians specifically. The policy of collectivization and antagonism towards the grain-hoarding rich peasants was one approved by and carried out by hundreds of thousands of people, if not millions. We can debate the degree of maliciousness, the severity of its effects, etc. But what is indisputable once you know just a little of how the USSR worked, to pretend that it could all be carried out by Stalin's sole will is absurd.

And what is the context of the deportations? The fascist invasion of the USSR. This is an extraordinary circumstance, every facet of the USSR was being attacked and threatened with sabotage. It wasn't even the first time they had had to deal with internal sabotage, like it was revealed in the trials following the assassination of Kirov. Throughout the 30s, Nazi Germany's strongarm diplomacy was practically enabled by their ability to create fifth columns, to instigate conflict and to infiltrate. They were in the process of setting up a coup d'etat in Lithuania when, with only a week to spare, it was voted that Lithuania would join the USSR. So, the fear that, as the front advanced, the nazis would do everything in their power to turn the tapestry of nationalities close to the front against the USSR, wasn't only unfounded, it was certain. Fascists are also quite famously brutal against the minorities in the territories they conquered. Their modus operandi whenever they captured a population was to kill any elected leaders and start to instigate anti-semitism.

This was the rationale that drove the policy of resettlement. It was a rushed wartime decision, such was the context, and people definitely died unnecessarily in transport. They decided that the negative consequences of resettlement outweighed the risk of sabotage, destroyed supply lines, and of a completely certain brutal destiny for these minorities if the front advanced past them. It was not a genocide, and it had nothing to do with whatever personal relationship you think Stalin had with Beria. (As a tangent, in this interview, Stalin's bodyguard said that Beria was "neither his [Stalin's] right hand man or left hand man"). I reiterate though, the personal relationships of one man did not dictate the policy decided on democratically by the CPSU.

I don't see the problem in understanding the context of these decisions and understanding the rationale behind them without kneejerking into discounting Stalin's competency. It's very easy to criticize a decision with 80 years of hindsight, without the pressure of the largest land invasion ever carried out advancing steadily. You can't understand the policies of a country containing hundreds of millions of people and hundreds of nationalities through the lens of a single man's personal failings, especially in wartime. Admitting these mistakes, but understanding the context in which they were made, is the only way to learn from other attempts at developing socialism. What is not productive is to insist on pinning every mistake, every unnecessary pain, every inefficiency, as the wrongdoings of a single man. It's dishonest to both the past, and to how communists organize today.

[adviceformefromme]

How to re-programme your subconscious mind…(tried and tested)

When the retreats don’t seem to have a lasting effect, you’ve done therapy, prayed, been to see healers, meditated… but for the life of you, stilllll have wounds so deep that they might appear to be resolved but the moment you meet someone who is wow you suddenly feel unworthy. Maybe not even suddenly, but your relationship wounds are running deep. Relationships trigger you. You end up feeling the same 90% of the time. Unlovable, unwanted, and rejected. The key to remember is that it started with you. With the mind, with your thinking. At whatever point in your childhood (or even later) you took on the belief that you're not worthy, your needs were not met. You took on behaviours that play out still to this day. Maybe it was hiding yourself, maybe it was lashing out? Whatever it is, the same way it started with you, with your thinking, with your processing of events. Is the same way you heal your self. Here are some steps: 

1] Forgiveness. Forgiveness is going to free you from your past. Write a list of all the people and situations that caused you pain from your earliest memory to this very day. Whatever pains are etched in your mind, write them down. Once your list is collated, start going through each scenario, sending love and forgiveness to yourself and whoever was involved. Imagine yourself as a loving carer healing the parts of you that were vulnerable, hurt and not safe. Visualise giving yourself love in each scenario. Creating peace. Once you’ve been through a scenario and feel truly at peace with the situation scribble it out and once you are completely done with the papers you can burn them and set yourself free. (this process can take weeks / months depending how long your list is but it's not to be rushed).

2] Whatever is still lingering, use your journal to clear this out. For example, if I asked you right now if the man of your dreams was to appear.. would you feel worthy? Right now as your are? It might not be a man, it might be a job, a salary. Whatever it is, start challenging your old beliefs. You might not feel pretty enough, you might not feel like you are deserving… whatever it is start questioning old ideas you have about yourself. Challenge them..

3] This is the most important step… Once you’ve done the above. You’ll start to see some themes, maybe in your forgiveness list you realised your voice didn’t matter as a child, and that you were silenced, and that you hid yourself as a way to feel safe…whatever you uncover. 

3.1 - You are going to write a script, in simple terms - something a child would understand and make sense of and you’re going to write out new beliefs to re-programme your mind. Example ‘I am willing to forgive those who hurt me, I am willing to forgive myself for the hurt I went through, I am no longer hiding myself from the world, I am choosing to be seen , to be celebrated, I am allowing my voice to be heard, my true voice, I matter’ - you want to cover all basis. Every old belief about not being enough, you need to re-write.

3.2 - Record yourself on your phone in a very slow peaceful loving tone reading your script. 

3.3 - You need to listen to this recording every single night for at least 1-4 weeks. (It’s usually 21 days, but I did a recording for 1 week on feeling safe and I felt truly healed as if it was a miracle). I was able to LOOP the recording using Mac...I sent the voice recording from my iPhone to my MacBook using airdrop and then opened the sound file in iTunes and pressed repeat. This allowed a short recording to loop all night as I slept. It’s really important to play this on a loop as you want to IMPRESS your subconscious mind with the new beliefs. It’s your own voice, its your own re-wiring. 

I hope this helps! The deeper healing work is crucial if you really want to remove those old wounds that seem to be stuck and not budging!

[03jyh23]

🌃⌇night, interrupted┆jung wooyoung

neighbor!non-idol!wooyoung x reader ft. non-idol!yeosang

│synopsis: you owe a favor to your annoying neighbor

│genre: enemies to lovers

│trigger warnings: wooyoung and yeosang are bisexual, party-themed, alcohol consumption, mature language, excessive use of ''princess''

│words: 10.4 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

│requested prompts are bold

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! i'm ashamed to confess that this request has been sitting in my inbox since april :( i'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but i had so many different ideas about where this story should go. i'm thinking about re-opening my requests soon. as always i hope you will enjoy it!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

"What are you even doing here?" you asked, your voice laced with surprise and a hint of annoyance. You had opened the door expecting to see anyone but him. But there he was, Wooyoung, the last person on earth you wanted to see on a Saturday night, or whenever to be honest. He stood there, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against the door frame. His eyes held a playful glint that contrasted with the seriousness of your tone.

"It’s nice to see you too, Y/N" he greeted, his voice light and cheerful. He smiled brightly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, completely unfazed by your cold tone and unamused expression. His nonchalance in the face of your clear displeasure made the situation all the more irritating for you.

"What on earth are you doing here, Wooyoung?" You demanded, your voice was stern and serious. You crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze never leaving his face.

"Oh, as lovely as ever, aren't you?" Wooyoung quipped, rolling his eyes theatrically. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned against the door frame with a nonchalant air. His gaze, however, held an undeniable intensity. "Get ready, we've got places to be," he added, his tone light but laced with an underlying seriousness.

"Wait, what?" You spluttered, taken aback by his unexpected command. "Wooyoung, you can't just barge in here and..." He pushed past you slightly to enter your apartment, his confident demeanor not wavering in the slightest.

"Oh, but I can, and I just did," he replied, brushing past you with a smirk. His audacity left you momentarily speechless as you watched him stroll into your apartment as if he owned the place.

"Excuse me?" you managed to stutter out, turning around to face him. Wooyoung had already made himself comfortable on your couch, his long legs on your coffee table.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," he finally said, "I just thought it'd be nice to spend some time together." You were left speechless once again, your mind trying to process his words. Spend time together? You weren't sure if he was being serious or just messing with you. Wooyoung looked at you from head to toe, judging your old leggings and oversized hoodie, not to mention your messy hair. You had planned to stay in, enjoy some wine, and watch a cringe-worthy romance movie, but he had interrupted your plans. "Are you planning to get ready or are you intending to leave looking like that?" he asked, his voice ringing with a clear note of dislike for your current attire.

"Don’t you have like, you know… friends?" you blurted out, your voice barely masking the irritation that had been simmering within you. As the words escaped your lips, you could feel a rush of heat flooding your body. You were certain your ears were all red by now, the heat of your annoyance manifesting physically. "Actually, I was enjoying my solitude until you showed up." You snapped, your hands on your hips as you glared at him.

Wooyoung simply responded, "Well, you'll have to put that on hold, we have plans."

"Why in the world, among all the people I could possibly have plans with, would you think that I have any intention to spend my time with you?" You retorted, your voice thick with frustration and disbelief. The absurdity of the situation was growing by the minute and the disbelief in your voice reflected your incredulity.

Wooyoung simply shrugged his shoulders, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your evident irritation. A smirk played on his lips as he casually replied, "Because you owe me one." His nonchalant response left you momentarily speechless.

Your mind momentarily went back to the night two weeks ago. Your classes had ended late in the evening, and the rain was pouring heavily. You couldn't believe how, in the span of a few hours, a lovely summer day had transformed into a raging rainstorm. You were wearing light, summer-appropriate clothing, and, of course, you hadn't brought an umbrella. In fact, you didn't even own one. As you stood at the entrance of the university building, the rain came down in torrents, drenching everything in sight. The prospect of walking home in such weather was daunting, and you sighed in frustration, knowing you'd be soaked to the skin by the time you reached your apartment. Just then, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Turning around, you saw Wooyoung, holding a large umbrella that provided a stark contrast to the stormy night. He approached you with a smirk, his usual playful glint in his eyes.

"Need a ride home?" he asked, raising his voice above the sound of the rain. You wanted to reject his offer, wanted to tell him to go away and leave you alone. But as he turned to leave, a teasing grin on his face, you found yourself chasing after him.

"Wait!" you called out, your voice barely heard over the sound of the rain. He stopped and turned back to look at you, an amused smile on his face. You hesitated for a moment before stepping under the umbrella, your body instinctively moving closer to his for warmth.

Wooyoung chuckled softly as you stepped under the umbrella, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I knew you couldn't resist," he teased, holding the umbrella a little higher to shield both of you from the downpour.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "You're lucky it's raining," you muttered, though your tone lacked any real annoyance. As you walked to his car, the rain continued to fall relentlessly, the streets quickly becoming rivers of water. Wooyoung's presence, however, provided a surprising comfort, the proximity of his body heat a welcome relief from the chill in the air. Once you reached the car, Wooyoung quickly unlocked it and held the umbrella for you as you climbed into the passenger seat. He folded the umbrella and slid into the driver's seat, shaking the water from his hair before starting the engine. The warmth of the car's interior enveloped you, and you sighed in contentment, grateful for the reprieve from the storm outside.

Wooyoung glanced at you as he pulled out of the parking lot. "You look like a drowned rat," he remarked with a grin, his tone lighthearted.

You shot him a mock glare. "Thanks for the compliment," you replied sarcastically, but the corners of your mouth twitched upwards.

The drive home was mostly quiet, save for the sound of rain pattering against the windows. When Wooyoung finally pulled up in front of your apartment building, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the car and into the rain, you heard Wooyoung call after you. "You owe me one now!" His voice was playful, but there was an underlying note of sincerity.

"Right, I owe you a favor," you muttered, your annoyance momentarily replaced by resignation. Despite your irritation, you couldn't deny that he was correct. "You could at least have the decency to call ahead."

Wooyoung laughed at that, a genuine, hearty laugh that echoed throughout your apartment. "Where's the fun in that, Y/N?" he retorted, his smile never faltering as he met your gaze.

You sighed, realizing that arguing with Wooyoung was akin to talking to a brick wall. "Fine," you said, throwing your hands up in surrender. "But if we're going out, I need to change. And you," you pointed at him, "need to get your feet off my coffee table."

Wooyoung chuckled but complied, swinging his legs off the table with a dramatic flourish. "Take your time, princess," he said, smirking at your annoyed expression. You rolled your eyes at his comment but nonetheless retreated to your bedroom to change into something more suitable for a night out.

Just as you were closing the door behind you, Wooyoung called after you, "And no leggings!" You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. As you moved towards the mirror, you took a moment to look at your reflection. Your hair was a mess from the day, and you knew it would take some time to style it into something presentable. You sighed, looking at the makeup products scattered across your dressing table. Getting ready for a party that you knew nothing about was indeed a challenge.

"How much time do I have?" you shouted from your bedroom.

Wooyoung glanced at his watch, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's say twenty minutes. Can you manage that?" he called out, his voice filled with amusement.

"How the fuck am I supposed to get ready for a party in twenty minutes?" you shouted back, a hint of panic creeping into your voice.

"Well, I can make it fifteen just for you, princess," Wooyoung laughed, his amusement clear in his voice. Even though he couldn't see you, you rolled your eyes at his comment. The audacity of this man. Despite the irritation bubbling within you, you knew you had to hurry. You started rummaging through your wardrobe for a suitable outfit, cursing under your breath. Meanwhile, Wooyoung lounged comfortably on your couch, scrolling through his phone while occasionally glancing towards your bedroom door.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally emerged from your bedroom. You had managed to throw together a decent outfit, and even though you had rushed your makeup, it didn't look half bad. Wooyoung looked up from his phone as you entered the room, his eyes raking over your figure. He let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. "Not bad, Y/N. Didn't know you could clean up so well."

You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn't help the blush that crept up your cheeks. "Whatever, Wooyoung. Let's just get this over with." With a chuckle, Wooyoung rose from the couch, offering you his arm. You looked at him, disbelief and irritation evident in your gaze. His casual demeanor and the playful smirk on his face only added to the absurdity of the situation. You found yourself stuck between wanting to laugh it off and wanting to kick him out. But, swallowing down the lump of frustration in your throat, you pushed his extended arm back. You then reached for the door handle yourself, pulling it open with more force than was necessary. Without a backward glance, you stepped out into the hallway, leaving a rather surprised Wooyoung behind in your apartment.

Wooyoung finally caught up with you, a surprised yet amused expression on his face. "Well, aren't we eager?" he said, chuckling at your obvious irritation. Despite your annoyance, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, a small smile playing on your lips. With a huff, you began to march towards the parking lot, your steps quick and purposeful with Wooyoung following close behind. The glimmer of satisfaction you felt when you heard him struggling to keep up with your pace was short-lived as he effortlessly caught up, a grin playing on his lips.

"Slow down, Y/N. It's not a race," he called out, his voice filled with amusement. You ignored him, continuing your steady pace towards his car. The parking lot was dimly lit, the only source of light being the faint glow from the streetlights. Wooyoung's car stood out against the mostly empty lot. You stopped abruptly in front of it, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited for him to unlock the doors. Wooyoung, still wearing that annoying smirk, took his time in reaching the driver's side. He pulled out his keys, twirling them around his finger in a show of nonchalance before finally pressing the unlock button. The car beeped in response, the headlights flashing briefly.

"Your chariot awaits, princess," Wooyoung said, his voice filled with laughter as he gestured for you to enter. Despite your annoyance, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at his behavior, shaking your head in disbelief as you got into the car. Wooyoung followed suit, sliding into the driver's seat. His smirk still in place, Wooyoung started the car, the engine purring to life.

"We have places to be!" you mocked him, the sound of your high heel echoing in the car as you tapped your foot impatiently. Wooyoung simply laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he drove off into the night. As he drove, the soft glow from the dashboard illuminated his face, casting a warm light on his features. Your eyes drifted to his hands on the steering wheel, fingers deftly maneuvering the vehicle through the night. The veins on the back of his hands were prominent, adding a sense of raw masculinity that you found yourself inexplicably drawn to. Your gaze then moved up to his chiseled jawline, the faint stubble that lined it giving him a rugged charm. You watched as the muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched, a subtle sign of his concentration on the road ahead. His eyes, though, were what captivated you the most. Looking at them through the rearview mirror, you noticed how they were intensely focused on the road, reflecting the faint glimmer of the streetlights. The seriousness on his face was a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor. Despite yourself, you felt a pang of appreciation for this side of him. It was a silent moment of admiration that you allowed yourself. You quickly averted your gaze when he caught your reflection in the rearview mirror, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "Like what you see, princess?"

His comment snapped you out of your reverie. "Keep your eyes on the road, Wooyoung," you retorted, your cheeks heating up at his insinuation. His soft chuckle filled the car, but he didn't push it any further.

After a few minutes of a silent ride, you finally broke the silence. "Can you tell me now where we are going?" you asked, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of annoyance. You could see him smirking from the corner of your eye, clearly finding amusement in your impatience.

Wooyoung glanced at you, his smirk widening. "You'll see when we get there," he replied cryptically. His evasive answer only fueled your curiosity and irritation.

"Wooyoung, I swear if you're taking me to some shady place..." you threatened, but he simply laughed, cutting you off.

"Relax, Y/N. It's nothing like that," he reassured, his tone light but his gaze serious when he looked at you.

After a short ride, Wooyoung finally pulled up at your destination, you were even more confused than before.

"Whose house is this?" you asked, taking a glance around the unfamiliar neighborhood. Wooyoung let out a soft chuckle before unbuckling his seatbelt. He turned to look at you, his usual smirk replaced with a gentle smile.

"Do you remember Mingi?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched your reaction closely. "He shared a class with us last year. He's quite tall, with short-cropped blonde hair." He let the words hang in the air, watching as you tried to recall this Mingi he was referring to.

You blinked, trying to recall someone fitting the description Wooyoung gave. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but you struggled to place him among the many faces you encountered during your classes last year. "Um, Mingi?" you repeated uncertainly, furrowing your brows as you searched your memory. "I think I remember someone like that, but I didn't really know him well."

"Then it's high time you get to know him. It's his birthday party," Wooyoung stated with a broad smile as he stepped out of the car. He left you momentarily, walked around to open your door, and offered his hand.

You looked at his outstretched hand and then up at his expectant face. A sigh escaped your lips before you finally gave in, placing your hand in his. "Alright, let's get this over with," you muttered, allowing Wooyoung to lead the way.

As you entered the house, you were immediately hit with the loud music and chatter of what seemed like a hundred people. Wooyoung instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist, presumably to prevent you from getting lost in the crowd. However, you weren't in the mood for his overbearing actions, so you pushed him away with your elbow, giving him a stern look.

"I can handle myself, Wooyoung," you said, pulling away from him. His smirk remained unfazed as he raised his hands in a sign of surrender.

"As you wish, princess," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. You rolled your eyes at his nickname for you but didn't comment on it. The party was in full swing, with people dancing and chatting. The atmosphere was electric, the house filled with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. Wooyoung guided you through the crowd, introducing you to a few people along the way. You greeted them politely, but your mind was elsewhere. "There's Mingi," Wooyoung pointed out, nodding towards a tall guy who was surrounded by a group of people. He had short blonde hair, just like Wooyoung described. When he saw you both, his face lit up and he excused himself from the group to come greet you.

"Wooyoung, Y/N, glad you guys could make it," Mingi greeted, his voice loud over the music. He had a warm smile, and his eyes were bright with excitement. You exchanged pleasantries with Mingi and wished him a happy birthday. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself gradually warming up to the atmosphere. "I'll get you guys some drinks." Before you could protest, he was already up and heading towards the makeshift bar at the far end of the room. This left you with Wooyoung and a bunch of Mingi's friends, all of whom seemed to know each other well. You took a deep breath and introduced yourself, trying your best to engage in the conversation. Despite your initial hesitation, they were all friendly and welcoming, which eased your mind slightly.

Before you knew it, Mingi returned with a tray of drinks. He handed you a glass filled with a brightly colored cocktail, the ice clinking against the glass. "Try this," he suggested, his eyes twinkling with excitement. You took a cautious sip, the taste of the alcohol strong but not unpleasant. The cocktail was fruity and sweet, the alcohol nicely masked by the flavors. It warmed your throat and seemed to seep into your veins, easing your tension and allowing you to relax slightly. You smiled and thanked Mingi, who returned the gesture with a broad grin.

As the night continued, you found yourself engrossed in conversation, drinking more colorful cocktails, laughing, and exchanging stories with Mingi and other of his friends. Mingi was particularly charming, his pleasant demeanor making it easy for you to feel at ease around him. Yet, occasionally, your gaze would shift to Wooyoung, and you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he navigated through the conversation. His laughter, rich and contagious, echoed through the room, drawing people towards him like a magnet. The way he mingled and engaged with everyone, his energy infectious and his charisma undeniable, was truly a sight to behold. Whether it was his quick wit that left people laughing or his intriguing stories that captivated everyone's attention, Wooyoung was undeniably the life of the party. You found yourself watching him, your heart begrudgingly admitting the undeniable truth - Wooyoung was not only charming but also incredibly hard to resist.

At one point, Mingi turned to you with a genuine smile on his face, saying, "You know, I really wish I had gotten to know you better during our class. You're quite interesting." His compliment caught you off guard, but you managed to smile back, just as you were about to respond, you felt a sudden warmth around you. Startled, you turned to find Wooyoung, his arm comfortably resting on your waist. The unexpected contact surprised you, and you found yourself looking at him, an eyebrow raised in question. His eyes met yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"What are you doing, Wooyoung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the surprise coursing through you. Wooyoung simply shrugged, the smirk on his face not wavering in the slightest. He seemed to be enjoying your reaction, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken amusement. Deciding to ignore him, you turned back to the rest of the group, engaging in conversation about plans for the upcoming summer. Mingi eagerly shared his excitement about an upcoming trip, and you found yourself genuinely interested in hearing more. As you chatted, Wooyoung's grip around your waist tightened slightly, his body language conveying a subtle sense of protectiveness. Despite your initial irritation, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through you at his touch. Mingi was still talking, his voice pleasant against the backdrop of the party music. Just as you were about to chime in with a comment, you felt Wooyoung lean in closer. His breath fanned across your ear as he whispered, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

His words hit you like a sudden gust of wind, leaving you momentarily speechless. You turned to look at him, your eyes wide with shock. Wooyoung simply looked back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His bold statement left you feeling flustered. But despite your surprise, you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Wooyoung, are you drunk?" you asked, your voice laced with concern and a hint of annoyance. His behavior tonight had been erratic at best, and you couldn't quite put a finger on what was causing it. Was it the party, the alcohol, or something else entirely? You weren't sure, and it was beginning to frustrate you. Wooyoung simply chuckled at your question, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Not at all, Y/N," he replied, his voice steady and his gaze unwavering. "But you can't deny that you do look beautiful tonight." His words, though unexpected, were sincere and you found yourself blushing under his intense gaze. You stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. His usual playful demeanor was still there, but there was something different in his eyes tonight. A depth that you hadn't noticed before.

"Is this another one of your tricks?" you asked, though your tone was more playful than accusatory.

"No tricks, Y/N. Just the truth," Wooyoung said, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. His confident demeanor and the intensity of his gaze left you speechless.

"You're acting weird," you muttered, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What's gotten into you?"

Wooyoung shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. "Maybe I'm just tired of pretending," he said cryptically, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Pretending what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking.

"That I don't care," he replied simply, his gaze unwavering. "That I don't think about you all the damn time. That I don't want to be more than just your annoying neighbor."

"Oh, shut up, won't you?" you found yourself saying, a mix of emotions flooding through you. His words had caught you off guard, causing your heart to race. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you had to fight the urge to look away from his intense gaze.

In response, Wooyoung simply smirked. "Make me," he retorted, his voice low and taunting. He held your gaze, his eyes sparkling with an unreadable emotion. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted down from your eyes to your lips. For a moment, all you could do was stare back at him, your breath hitching as you realized what he was insinuating. The unexpected intensity of the moment left you breathless, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. His confession left you stunned. You had always thought Wooyoung's teasing was just part of his playful nature, never imagining that there might be something more behind it. The realization made your heart flutter and your mind race with questions.

"Wooyoung, I..." you started, but your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm going to get myself a drink," you said, excusing yourself before Wooyoung could respond. You needed a moment to process everything he had just said. You quickly moved away, weaving through the crowd. As you navigated through the sea of people, you accidentally bumped into someone. As you prepared to apologize, you looked up. Your heart skipped a beat when you found yourself staring into familiar eyes – Yeosang's eyes. You caught your breath, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. It had been months since you last saw him.

From the moment you first saw Yeosang in your university class, something clicked inside you. He had an effortless grace about him, a quiet confidence that drew you in immediately. His smile was warm, his mannerisms gentle yet assured. You found yourself stealing glances at him during lectures, captivated by the way he listened intently, his eyes occasionally flickering up to meet yours. As the weeks passed, your admiration for Yeosang deepened. You began to look forward to seeing him, cherishing every opportunity to exchange a few words or share a laugh. However, your feelings remained unspoken. You didn't dare to confess your feelings to Yeosang, fearing that it might jeopardize the friendship you had cultivated or worse, make things awkward between you.

And then came Wooyoung, who joined one of your classes midway through the semester. He was charismatic, confident, and effortlessly charming. You didn't pay much attention to him beyond acknowledging his presence in class. But as weeks passed, you noticed a change in Yeosang. He seemed more distracted, often engaging in conversations with Wooyoung during breaks or after class. At first, you tried to brush it off but as weeks turned into months, it became increasingly clear that Yeosang was falling for Wooyoung. You watched from the sidelines as their friendship blossomed into something deeper, and it stung to realize that the person you liked was now enamored with someone else. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever you saw them together. It was the way Yeosang's eyes lit up when Wooyoung walked into the room, the way he laughed a little harder at Wooyoung's jokes, the way he seemed to gravitate towards him. It was these little things that made you realize just how much Yeosang liked Wooyoung. And it's not like you could blame him. Wooyoung was outgoing, charismatic, and undeniably attractive. But for you, it was difficult to see past the fact that he was the one who had swept your crush off his feet. And so, your dislike for Wooyoung was born more out of a sense of hurt and jealousy than anything else. You couldn't help but see him as the one who had taken away your chance with Yeosang. To make matters worse, Wooyoung seemed oblivious to the impact his presence had on your dynamics with Yeosang. Once Wooyoung and Yeosang made their relationship official, your friendship with Yeosang dwindled to non-existence. You were left alone to deal with your heartbreak, the sting of rejection, and the loss of friendship compounding your sorrow.

The sight of Wooyoung and Yeosang together became a bitter pill to swallow, a cruel reminder of your unfulfilled feelings for Yeosang. You missed the comforting presence of Yeosang. But more than anything, you missed the hope, the hope of maybe being something more than just friends with him. After your first year, you decided to switch groups to avoid seeing the boys together, and since then you haven’t seen Yeosang at all.

But as much as you wanted to avoid Wooyoung as well, it was harder than you imagined since he was your neighbor. Living so close to him meant that you often crossed paths, whether in the apartment lobby, the parking lot, or the local grocery store. Despite your best efforts to keep your distance, Wooyoung always seemed to find a way back into your life, you couldn't seem to escape him.

"Y/N?" Yeosang asked, his eyes wide as he scanned your face. "I haven't seen you in forever!" With one swift motion, he pulled you into a hug, leaving you utterly surprised. ''What are you doing here?'' Your mind raced with a mix of emotions – surprise, nostalgia, and a tinge of unresolved feelings. His warm embrace felt both familiar and foreign after months of absence, stirring memories of the friendship you had once shared before Wooyoung came into the picture.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, pulling away from the hug, your heart pounding at the close contact.

Yeosang's smile was warm and genuine as he offered, "Would you mind grabbing a drink with me?" he extended his arm towards you and despite all the confusion swirling in your mind, you found yourself unable to resist the offer.

"Yeah, sure!" you agreed, smiling weakly at him. "But I think you need to know that Wooyoung is here as well." A few months ago, a mutual friend informed you that Yeosang and Wooyoung had broken up that’s why you said the last part with hesitation, watching for Yeosang’s reaction, unsure how he might feel given their history.

He blinked in surprise at your words, his face going slightly pale. "Wooyoung is here?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, biting your lip nervously. Yeosang took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. After what felt like an eternity, he finally looked up at you, a small smile on his face. "It's okay, Y/N," he said, his voice steady. "We ended things on good terms. It won't be awkward, I promise." Despite his reassurances, you could see the flash of pain in his eyes, a hint of the heartbreak he must have gone through.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him but didn't know what to say. Instead, you gave him a small smile, "Let's get that drink," you suggested, offering him a comforting smile. He nodded, his smile returning as he led you towards the makeshift bar.

As you navigated through the crowd, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Seeing Yeosang again stirred up old feelings, and Wooyoung's confession left you in a state of shock. Wooyoung's sudden confession surprised you. The two of you hardly spent time together after your feelings of jealousy took over, leading you to switch classes in an attempt to distance yourself. You lived in the same building so you'd sometimes meet him in the lobby, the parking lot, or the grocery store, but that was all. Any talks you had were short and you were often annoyed with him. It was clear you didn't like being around Wooyoung.

As you reached the makeshift bar, Yeosang took two glasses in his hands. "What do you feel like drinking?" he asked, his gaze turning to the drinks lined up on the counter.

"To be honest, a strong cocktail would be nice." you amended, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"Alright, one strong cocktail coming right up." He said, his voice filled with amusement as he began to mix your drink. You watched him work, feeling a mix of nostalgia and nervousness. It was surreal being here with him after everything that had happened. Yeosang prepared two cocktails, handing one to you with a warm smile. You took a sip, the fruity tang of the drink temporarily distracting you from your thoughts.

"So, how's life treating you?" Yeosang asked, his tone was casual, but there was a genuine interest in his eyes.

"Busy," you replied with a small smile. "Classes are demanding, but I'm managing. How about you? How's everything been?"

"Pretty much the same. Classes, projects, the usual. I've been keeping myself occupied." There was a comfortable silence as you both took a moment to enjoy your drinks. The strong cocktail did wonders to calm your nerves, and you found yourself relaxing into the familiar rhythm of conversation with Yeosang.

"You know," Yeosang began, his voice softer, "I really missed our talks. It's been too long."

You looked at him, surprised by the honesty in his words. "I missed them too," you admitted, feeling a pang of regret for the time lost. "When I first heard that you and Wooyoung had broken up, I was secretly hoping you would reach out," you confessed, your gaze meeting his. There was a moment of silence as your words hung in the air. Yeosang blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to struggle to find the right words. You watched as a range of emotions flitted across his face - surprise, confusion, and then, slowly, understanding.

"I...I had no idea," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze dropped to his drink, his fingers absently tracing the rim of the glass. "I was so absorbed in my relationship with Wooyoung, that I didn't notice I was neglecting our friendship," Yeosang confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't see you the whole summer, and then I found out you switched classes. I should have reached out, I know. But I was too caught up in my own feelings. I'm sorry, Y/N," Yeosang said, looking up at you with a sincere expression, his eyes filled with regret.

You were taken aback by his sudden apology, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. "It's okay, Yeosang," you reassured him, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "We were both dealing with our own stuff. But I'm glad we're talking now."

He looked up at you, his gaze soft. "I missed you, Y/N," he admitted, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner." Yeosang smiled, and for a moment, it felt like old times. "I'm glad we ran into each other tonight," he said sincerely.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Me too, Sangie. Me too," you replied.

Little did you both know, a pair of eyes were watching your interaction from across the room.

As you continued to engage in conversation with Yeosang, you finally felt the alcohol hit. Your senses began to blur slightly, the room spinning a little. Yeosang's cheeks and ears had turned a shade of red, the alcohol clearly taking effect on him too. You couldn't help but admire his handsome face, his brown, styled hair adding to his charm. He looked like an angel under the soft glow of the lights, and you found yourself staring at him, losing focus on what he was saying. Your head was getting dizzy from the alcohol, and you found your body swaying slightly. Without thinking, you rested your head on Yeosang's shoulder, your arms linked as you continued talking. The warmth from his body was comforting, easing the spinning sensation in your head. As he spoke, you found yourself staring at his lips. They moved with each word, captivating you completely. You could see the faint stubble on his upper lip, the slight curve of his lower lip, the way they moved when he pronounced certain words. His voice was a soothing hum in your ears, the words gradually losing meaning as you got lost in your thoughts. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to close the distance, to taste the sweet alcohol on his lips. Your gaze flickered up to meet his, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Yeosang noticed the direction of your gaze and a faint blush colored his cheeks. He paused mid-sentence, his eyes meeting yours. His eyes held a softness that you hadn't seen in a long time, stirring a familiar warmth within you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the alcohol loosening the tight grip of restraint. Slowly, you leaned in closer, your eyes fluttering shut, the anticipation built up, a sweet tension hanging in the air. But just as your lips were about to meet, you were pulled up by your arm.

Startled, you opened your eyes to find Wooyoung standing beside you, his gaze burning into yours. "I think you've had enough to drink, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. His grip on your arm was firm yet gentle, pulling you away from Yeosang and towards him.

"What the hell, Wooyoung?" you slurred, struggling to maintain your balance. His sudden intrusion left you disoriented, your head spinning from the abrupt movement. His eyes held a strange intensity, an emotion you couldn't quite decipher.

Yeosang looked at the two of you, his expression mixed with confusion and a hint of disappointment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Wooyoung couldn't help but gaze at Yeosang as well. His eyes held a strange mix of emotions that were hard to decipher. He watched as Yeosang looked back at him, a hint of confusion and disappointment in his gaze. This interaction was one Wooyoung had not anticipated, but he couldn't deny the protective instinct that had surged within him.

Wooyoung’s voice softened as he turned to Yeosang, "Are you alright?" he asked with concern. Yeosang simply nodded, his eyes still locked on Wooyoung and you, a lingering sadness evident in his gaze. Wooyoung tightened his hold around you, his voice barely above a whisper as he scolded Yeosang gently, "You shouldn't drink so much, you know you can't handle your alcohol well."

Yeosang ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that you recognized instantly. "Yeah, I know" he replied, his voice low and slightly shaky, "But I don't think it's your place to remind me, Wooyoung." His words carried a hint of bitterness that you hadn't heard from him before. Wooyoung flinched slightly, clear surprise flashing across his face. He nodded, falling silent as he tightened his hold on you once more.

"Can't I worry about you anymore?" Wooyoung asked, his voice clearly annoyed with the way this conversation was going.

Yeosang looked away, his expression hard to read. "You stopped having that right when we broke up, Wooyoung," he replied, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotions. Wooyoung was taken aback, his grip on your arm loosening slightly.

His words carried a sting that caused Wooyoung to recoil slightly. "So, I loved you once and now I have to pretend we are strangers?" Wooyoung retorted, his voice tight with frustration. The tension between them was palpable, a stark reminder of the complex web of emotions and history that tied them together.

"No, Wooyoung. We're not strangers, but we're not lovers either. We're just two people who used to know each other very well," Yeosang replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. His gaze was steady, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. Wooyoung fell silent, his grip on your arm slackening as he digested Yeosang's words. "I better get going," Yeosang said, getting up from the couch. He tripped on his feet, momentarily losing his balance. He quickly steadied himself, giving you and Wooyoung one last glance before disappearing into the crowd.

After a while of uncomfortable silence, Wooyoung asked you, "Are you alright?" his voice filled with concern.

You turned to him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I should be asking you this question," you replied, your gaze meeting his.

Wooyoung seemed taken aback by your response, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'm fine Y/N," he said, avoiding your gaze. "But are you?"

"I'm okay," you managed to say, the words coming out as a slur. You swayed slightly, your vision blurring as you tried to focus on Wooyoung's face. He sighed, his grip tightening around your waist.

"Let's get you some water," he suggested, his voice steady despite the concern on his face. He began to lead you away from the crowd, his hold on you firm yet gentle. You didn't protest, too dazed to argue.

Wooyoung led you outside, the cool night air hitting your face. It was a welcome relief from the heat of the party, the sounds of music and chatter fading into the background. He guided you to a nearby bench, helping you sit down before he sat beside you. You leaned back, closing your eyes as you tried to clear your head. The world was spinning around you, the effects of the alcohol more potent than you had anticipated. A moment of silence passed, the only sound being the distant hum of the party and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much," Wooyoung finally broke the silence, his tone soft. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He was staring at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"Well, you shouldn't have dragged me to this party," you retorted, your voice coming out stronger than you intended.

"You're right, I shouldn't have," he agreed, his tone suddenly angry. He reached for the water bottle he had brought with him, handing it to you. You took it gratefully, taking small sips as you tried to sober up.

"What was that supposed to mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to comprehend his sudden change in tone. There was a distinct edge to his voice that you had never heard before - a hint of anger, perhaps even frustration.

His words hung in the air, their implications slowly sinking in as you tried to make sense of the situation. "I mean, I pour my heart out, confessing my fucking feelings to you, and then you just disappear. And when I find you, you're kissing my ex?" Wooyoung ruffled his hair in frustration, his words laced with a potent mix of anger and hurt.

"I did not kiss your ex," you managed to slur out, pausing to take a gulp of water in an attempt to clear your head.

Wooyoung's sudden shout startled you, causing you to nearly choke on your drink. "Fuck! Is that really the only thing you caught from everything I just said?" He was clearly frustrated, he took you by your arms, making you face him to make sure you were paying attention. "I'm confessing to you here, for fuck's sake. Do you understand?"

"Confessing?" you echoed, your mind struggling to process his words. "Wait, are you saying..." you trailed off, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. "You...you like me?" His confession left you reeling, a mix of shock and disbelief coursing through you.

Wooyoung simply stared at you for a moment, as if he was trying to read your thoughts. "Yes, Y/N," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I like you. I have for a while now." His words hung in the air, a confession that left you stunned "But here you are, chasing after my ex," Wooyoung's words had a bitter edge to them, his frustration evident in his voice. His confession was still ringing in your ears, adding to the surrealness of the situation. You stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. His confession was unexpected, but it started to make sense, explaining his unusual behavior throughout the night. Your heart pounded in your chest as you attempted to articulate a response. "It's funny," he said, a dry smile playing on his lips. "I always thought you hated me, and I could never figure out why." Wooyoung sighed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips despite the sadness clouding his eyes. "Now I know why," he admitted, his voice carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore. The words hung in the air, heavy with regret and understanding. His eyes held yours, a silent plea for understanding shimmering within their depths. "A fucking love triangle, for fuck's sake," Wooyoung chuckled, biting his lower lip in a mix of amusement and frustration. His heart pounded in his chest as the gravity of the situation sank in. Here he was, caught in a twisted love triangle with his ex and the girl he was falling for. The irony was not lost on him.

"Wooyoung, it's not what you think," you finally managed to say, your voice shaky. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't plan on... with Yeosang... I was just... I don't know." You trailed off, your words failing to accurately convey the whirlwind of emotions within you. "I'm sorry, Wooyoung," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. The apology hung heavy in the air, a sincere admittance of your conflicted feelings. This was not how you imagined the night unfolding. The realization that you had been blind to his feelings all this time left you feeling more disoriented than the alcohol ever could. "Wooyoung," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know." The look in his eyes softened a fraction, but the hurt was still there, raw and unfiltered.

He let out a heavy sigh, releasing his grip on your arms and stepping back. "How could you have known?" he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I never had the guts to tell you until now. And when I finally do, it's at the worst possible moment." His words were filled with a raw honesty that took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. There was a heavy silence as you both sat there, his confession still lingering in the air. The cool night breeze rustled through the trees, the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. You looked at Wooyoung, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the nearby streetlights. His eyes were downcast, a stark contrast to his usual lively demeanor. "Let's get us home," Wooyoung finally said, breaking the silence. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The contact was unexpected, but it felt comforting He guided you up from the bench, his hand securely wrapped around yours. The world swayed slightly as you stood, the alcohol still coursing through your veins.

"What about the car?" you suddenly asked, remembering you had driven to the party.

"Mingi's going to drive it back tomorrow," after he said that, you walked in silence, the quiet night air a stark contrast to the loud music and chatter you left behind. The soft glow of the streetlights guided your path, casting long shadows on the empty sidewalk. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city and the soft rustle of leaves under your feet. Wooyoung's grip on your hand was firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that he was there for you.

"Wooyoung, my feet hurt," you finally voiced out, glancing down at your feet which were now visibly swollen from the uncomfortable heels you had been wearing all night. A pained expression crossed your face as you tried to flex your aching feet.

"Your feet hurt?" Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, his gaze dropping to the heels you had been wearing all night. He could see the discomfort on your face and he felt a pang of sympathy.

"Mhm," you whispered softly, your pout deepening. Wooyoung stopped, looking down at your feet in the high heels that had been giving you trouble all evening. His eyes softened upon seeing your discomfort.

"Alright, take them off, princess," Wooyoung said, his voice gentle yet firm. He let go of your hand and crouched down, reaching for the straps of your heels. You watched in surprise as he helped you out of the torturous shoes. His actions were so unexpected, yet they felt so natural, causing a smile to tug at your lips. The nickname he had just used hung in the air between you, igniting a familiar warmth in your chest. You felt a small chuckle escape your lips, the tension from earlier starting to dissipate a bit. This was a side of Wooyoung you hadn't seen before, a softer, caring side that warmed your heart.

Once he had helped you out of your shoes, Wooyoung started to untie his own shoes, "What are you doing?" you chuckled, watching as he removed his own shoes. He looked up at you with a grin, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.

"I'm giving you my shoes so you don't have to walk barefoot," he simply replied, handing you his shoes with a gentle smile. You took them from him, a soft laugh escaping your lips at his unexpected gesture.

"Seriously?" you asked, your voice filled with amusement. Wooyoung simply shrugged, a playful grin on his lips. You hesitated for a moment before slipping your feet into his shoes. They were slightly big for you, but significantly more comfortable than your heels.

With a satisfied nod, Wooyoung stood up and offered his arm. "Shall we continue?" he asked, his tone light. You nodded, taking his arm as you both continued walking.

The rest of the walk home was quiet, punctuated only by the occasional sound of passing cars and the soft rustling of leaves under your feet. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you found comfort in Wooyoung's steady presence beside you. His silence was not oppressive, rather it was comforting, allowing you the space to process the night's events. Your senses gradually began to clear as you walked, the cool night breeze helping to dissipate the effects of the alcohol. The world slowly stopped spinning, and your thoughts were no longer a jumbled mess. The reality of the night's events began to sink in, causing a pang of regret to shoot through your heart. You took a deep breath, resolving to deal with the consequences of your actions once you were completely sober. For now, you were just grateful for Wooyoung's silent support and the comforting familiarity of the route back home.

You barely noticed when you reached your apartment complex, the towering building standing tall against the night sky. Wooyoung guided you to your door, his hand still securely wrapped around yours.

"Thank you, Wooyoung," you said softly, your heart pounding as you turned to face him. His gaze met yours, his eyes holding a gentleness that made your heart flutter. His silence was comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.

"You're welcome, Y/N," Wooyoung replied, his voice soft. His gaze lingered on your face, drinking in your features. He squeezed your hand gently, offering you a small smile.

"I...I need to go," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, releasing his hand. He turned to leave, his figure slowly disappearing. You watched him go, a mix of emotions washing over you. You sighed, turning to unlock your door. Once inside, you kicked off Wooyoung's shoes and collapsed onto your bed. The events of the night replayed in your mind, each detail more confusing than the last. You closed your eyes, the image of Wooyoung's hurt expression etched into your memory. A wave of guilt washed over you. Wooyoung's confession had been unexpected, but your reaction had been even more so. You pulled your blanket over your head, the guilt gnawing at your conscience. You took a deep breath, forcing your mind to clear. You needed to sort out your feelings, to figure out what you truly wanted. You decided to take a shower. The warm water cascading down your body provided a momentary relief, but it didn't really help to calm your thoughts. You kept thinking about Wooyoung, his confession kept echoing in your mind. Yeosang, who had been at the forefront of your mind earlier, now seemed like a distant memory. Each time you closed your eyes, you saw Wooyoung's face, his gaze filled with a mix of hurt and hope, his words echoing in your mind. You mindlessly brushed your teeth and changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a T-shirt. Getting into bed, you couldn't fall asleep. You were feeling too many things, each stronger than the last. You moved around in bed, with the quiet night making your thoughts louder. Suddenly, you felt a strong need to act. You couldn't stand your confusing thoughts anymore, so you decided to face them. You jumped from the bed and ran to your apartment door, your heart beating fast. Forgetting to lock the door, you quickly climbed the stairs to the next floor, your heart beating loudly. You stopped at Wooyoung's door, worried he might be asleep and your late visit would be pointless. But you decided to go ahead. You took a deep breath to calm down and knocked on Wooyoung's door.

After a few moments, the door creaked open. Wooyoung stood there, looking surprised to see you. "Y/N? What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

His surprised expression made your heart race even more, "Can I come in?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung blinked in surprise before stepping aside to let you in. "Of course, come in." He led you to his living room, the space dimly lit by a single standing lamp. You walked in, your heart pounding in your chest. Wooyoung closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression one of concern. "Is everything alright, Y/N?"

But instead of answering, you slowly reached out, placing your hand on his. He looked at you, surprise flickering across his eyes. "Wooyoung...," you started, unsure of what to say. You squeezed his hand gently, ''Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Wooyoung's eyes widened at your words, a mix of surprise and disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if trying to determine if he had heard you correctly. "I just need to check something, so kiss me, please?" you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. The request hung heavy in the air, a question that held the potential to change everything. Wooyoung's eyes widened in shock, and he searched your face for any hint of hesitation or insincerity. His gaze softened as he saw the earnest plea in your eyes. "I brushed my teeth," you told him, a small smile playing on your lips. This caused him to chuckle, his laugh broke the tension, a small ray of light in an otherwise heavy situation.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Wooyoung responded, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn't want to kiss a mouth full of party snacks and alcohol, now would we?" At that, your smile widened a bit, the humor in his comment easing some of your nervousness. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his eyes locked on yours. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of emotions that set your heart racing. It was as if he was silently pleading for you to understand, to accept his feelings. In that moment, you felt a connection, a spark that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to just keep looking at me like that, or are you actually going to kiss me?" you teased, an amused quirk of his lips was his initial response, the corners of his mouth curling into a small, but warm, smile. Your playful tone seemed to have done the trick, Wooyoung’s gaze softened, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. The playful challenge in your words hung in the air, a silent invitation awaiting his response. For a moment, all you could hear was your own heart pounding in anticipation. You found yourself holding your breath, eagerly waiting for his next move. "What are you afraid of?" you whispered, his eyes reflecting a hint of surprise at your question.

"Afraid?" he echoed, a playful spark in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Not even a bit." Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to pause as his lips met yours, the soft pressure sending a jolt of surprise through you. It was a gentle kiss, yet filled with a raw intensity that took your breath away. His lips moved against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm, the intoxicating taste of him making your head spin even more. His hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and deepening the kiss. You responded instinctively, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back. The world around you seemed to fade into insignificance, the only thing that mattered was the feel of his lips against yours, the warmth of his body against yours. It was a while before you both pulled away, the need for air becoming too great. You looked at him, his eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed. His lips were slightly swollen from the kiss and for a moment, you wondered if yours looked the same.

"Well..." he started, his voice slightly hoarse. "Did you...check what you needed to check?" His words were light, but his eyes held a seriousness that suggested he was waiting for your answer with bated breath.

You nodded, your mind still reeling from the kiss. "Yeah..." you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I did." You weren't quite sure what you had expected to feel but whatever it was, it felt right. His confession, his kiss, it was unexpected, but it felt...right. Your heart raced as you looked into Wooyoung's eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand still on the back of your neck. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, mirroring his own playful demeanor. "I think I got my answer," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "But just to be sure..." You leaned in again, closing the distance between you, capturing his lips with yours in another kiss. This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate, as if confirming what both of you had been silently longing for. His response was immediate, his lips moving with a renewed fervor against yours. The gentle pressure, the taste of him, the way his fingers lightly traced your jawline sent shivers down your spine. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, staring into each other's eyes with a mixture of disbelief and desire.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, his forehead resting on yours, as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "So, did that clear things up for you?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion.

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah," you murmured, "It definitely did."

"Good," he said, his eyes lighting up at your smile. "Because I...I really like you, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I hope that...maybe...you might feel the same way."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through you. You looked at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent understanding. "I...I think I might," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

His eyes widened in surprise, a hopeful smile spreading across his face. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Really," you confirmed, your heart pounding in your chest. His smile widened, his eyes lighting up with a joy that made your heart flutter. You felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of rightness that you hadn't felt in a long time. You felt a surge of embarrassment rush through you as Wooyoung’s gaze continued to rake over your attire. A flush crept up your neck and you instinctively brought a hand up to hide your reddening face. Wooyoung let out a hearty laugh at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Go away, Wooyoung," you muttered from behind your hand, your voice muffled yet audibly flustered.

Wooyoung, however, seemed to find your blush endearing. He raised an eyebrow at your retort, a smirk playing on his lips. "Go away? Where am I supposed to go, princess?" he replied, his tone teasing. His words only served to deepen your blush, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips at his ridiculousness. Without a word, you pushed him playfully, trying to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. Wooyoung only laughed, his eyes twinkling as he caught your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, yet the warmth in your chest didn’t dissipate. "You're insufferable, Wooyoung," you said, but your fond tone contradicted your words.

He simply grinned in response, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "And you wouldn't have it any other way," he retorted, his voice full of affection.

"Maybe I wouldn't," you admitted, a soft smile on your lips.

[plasticferal]

what you want | chris sturniolo.

authors notes: okay i had fun with this one. longer read, finally smut with the love of my life.

warnings: mentions choking, kinda dom!chris but we know he can switch, explicit language, cunnilingus.

you and chris have a complicated relationship. you’re untouchable to him, and as enticing as he is, you enjoy the chase more than the prize. you don’t want to ruin your delusions by giving into him, giving into what you want.

he’s taken it as a challenge, and in his mind you’re already his. he’s made that very clear. the more you push him away the more he wants, so showing up to a house party you explicitly told him you weren’t interested in, is the perfect way to push him over the edge.

you swing the unlocked door open to the all too familiar house. music was blasting from the other side, only getting louder the moment you walk in. bodies move around you with red solo cups in their hand, people were making out in the hallway up the stairs, and eyes glanced up and down your body, making you hyper aware of your short black skirt.

with a sway of your hips as you stroll into the living space, your eyes lock with chris. you watch a smirk grow on his face, licking his lips slowly, and undressing you with his eyes. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, ankles crossed and one hand gripping the marble. he pushes himself up, and bee-lines for you.

“you made it,” he speaks deeply, sauntering closer to you, snaking an arm around your waist. you grabbed his arm, dropping it quickly.

“yeah, i wanted to see your brothers,” you smile, sickenly sweet, voice laced with sarcasm. he huffs a laugh, rolling his neck.

“not funny,” he replies.

“i thought it was,” you shrug one shoulder and nudge past him, re-directing your route.

“grab me something to drink?” he shouts. you turn on your heels while you walk backward toward the fridge, scrunching an eyebrow.

“come and get it yourself,” you match his tone, earning mumbles and laughs from the house party guests manoeuvring around the kitchen.

“gladly,” not caring about the attention on you two, and he follows you like a puppy.

you pull open the fridge and bring out a cold drink, closing it to see chris leaning a shoulder on the other door.

“you look good” he speaks, unprompted. staring you up and down again.

“i know” you twist the top off, bringing the glass bottle to your lips. he rolls his eyes.

“can i taste some?” he nods toward your drink. you swallow your sip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“come here,” you tempt, holding your drink out, just far enough, but he can’t reach it.

“y’gotta make me work for it?” he asks, shoving one hand into his pant pocket.

“have i ever made anything easy for you?” you grin. he gives a half suppressed laugh, taking the bottle from your hand. he hums after his gulp, wiping his mouth with his thumb.

“it’s nice. you know what would taste better, though?” he speaks as he passes the bottle back to you. you give him a bounce of your eyebrows as if to say ‘keep talking’.

“you.” he finishes. you fake laugh.

“who’s the funny one, now?” you tease.

“it’s always been me, sweetheart,” he winks, earning an eyeroll from you and turning your back on him again.

“where you goin, ma?” he’s hot on your heels, needing to follow the scent of your perfume like a lion to its prey, it drives him crazy.

“your room. i wanna change into a hoodie, something comfortable,” you speak while walking, hoping he can hear you. he’s keeping up, not caring if he’s pushing or shoving past anyone in his way.

to be fair, it’s a lot colder in the house than outside, despite the crowd. really, you just need an excuse to have him linger around you.

you walk and sip your drink, pacing down the stairs before you reach the serenity and contrasting quiet of his room. it’s hidden away from the chaos, and no one’s around now, making hearing him so much easier.

“do you always have to steal mine?” he sounds more enthusiastic about what he says than upset, but yet again he always does when he’s talking to you.

“mhm,” you hum a smile while sipping your drink, pushing his bedroom door open.

“weren’t planning on guests, huh” you mumble, looking around the room that’s in disarray. despite the fact he barely sleeps in his own bed, it’s still a mess. you didn’t expect anything less though.

chris leans both his arms up above his head on the door frame, forcing his hoodie to raise up, revealing the band of his branded boxers and tanned skin that cuts sharp to his waist.

you avoid staring, as much as you want to.

“if i knew you’d be in my room tonight i would have tidied up,” he grins obnoxiously, and you bite your smile back.

finally managing to find a fresh love hoodie that wasn’t tossed or in a dirty wash pile, you set your drink down on his desk. you bring your hands to bottom of your way too tight, kinda itchy, short sleeve shirt, beginning to pull it up but then pausing noticing chris’ stare.

“what, i can’t watch?” he plays dumb, tilting his head and pouting his bottom lip slightly.

“turn around,” you order, using your finger to point to the empty space he should be staring at behind him.

“what if i say please?” he takes half a step into the room before you snap at him again.

“christopher,”

“fine okay,” he whines, turning to face the wall behind him. you watch as he plants his feet, impatiently tilts his head back and forth and fold his arms over his chest.

you pull your shirt off and begin to slide on his hoodie through your arms, then stop in your tracks.

as much you love the fact he’s taking your orders, him finding it hard to resist you makes you rethink. it’s the perfect time to lean into torturing him. just a little.

“actually, chris?” you ask, tone endearing, inviting him to turn around.

“yea-woah,” he elongates his words, stopping suddenly when he turns to face you, being stunned at the sight of you in just your bra and skirt.

“can you find me a different hoodie? i don’t think this one matches my outfit,” you lean your heap out, which makes your ass pop, having one hand on your hip.

“mmm, i think i like this look on you better,” he slowly steps into the room. you ignore him.

“i like the hoodie you’re wearing. can i have it?” you toss the one you’re holding and step closer to him, putting your hands on the bottom of his attire and begin to pull it up. he grabs your wrists, and you’re taken aback by his sharp movement.

“you can have whatever you want from me, y/n,” he then raises his arms, letting you slowly pull the black hoodie over his head, and he’s not wearing a shirt underneath. he shakes his hair, fixing it, and you can’t help but look down his body.

of course he notices, and he’s happy to let you look. more than happy actually. you can see now that the hoodie isn’t hanging past his waist, that his pants are tightening around his cock. the subtle form of his dick pressing against his pants is enough to make you feel hot.

you turn away from him, beginning to put the hoodie over your head when he stops you by pressing his palm to your lower back. he’s towering over your shoulder from behind, and you can smell his cologne strongly. his bare chest brushes your half naked back, and you feel your entire body chill, a contrast to how warm his skin is.

“what else do you want, y/n?” his voice is a low, husky growl in your ear. it makes your breath hitch.

there was only so far you could go with a chase. you wanted the catch now, and he was bait waiting patiently, desperate to be caught. no better time like the present, you think to yourself.

you turn around to face him, chests brushing each other. you look up at him and he tilts his head slightly, absorbing every detail of your face. it’s the first time you’ve felt insecure, and truly exposed around him. he slides the cold tips of his fingers up your arm, over the hill of your shoulder and collar bone, then up your neck, making your knees week.

he uses his thumb and index finger to cup your jawline, giving a squeeze and forcing your head to look up even more, holding eye contact.

“use your words,” he orders.

“i want you.” you’re direct. he knows what you want, just needed to hear you say it.

chris crashes his lips onto yours, his lips are like silk pillows. gentle, but the kiss itself is rough and needy. he slides his tongue between your teeth and let’s it fight with your own, moaning into the kiss. his grip tightens on your throat, forcing you on your tippy toes and grabbing at his chest for support. he pulls away, strands of salvia pulling your lips and he wipes them with this thumb.

“where do you want me, hm?” he asks, loosening his grip and pulling your neck to the side.

he gives himself full access to plant kisses behind your ear and across your skin, near your bra straps. you can’t even think straight.

without using your words, you take his hand from your throat and slide it down your body, past your chest, past your ribs and waist and finally you push his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers hard against your cunt.

“shit, wet already. i haven’t even touched you yet,” he has a jump of amusement in his words.

“then hurry up before i change my mind.” you hold your eye contact with him and you watch as he slowly runs his tongue across his lower lip. he nods, more to himself, like he’s just agreed with his own thoughts.

he moves his hand from between your legs, curling it around your waist then under your ass. he uses both his hands to hike you up, and you wrap yourself around him. he kicks the door closed behind him and throws you on the bed.

chris crawls over you, and you dance your nails across his chest.

“do you know how long i’ve been thinking about this moment?” he asks, leaning down and connecting your lips again.

you grab his hair from behind, pulling the kiss deeper. you both moan into each others mouths, and his hand reaches for your throat again. his touch his gentle though, just kind of resting his hand there.

“i wanna take this off,” he tugs at your skirt with his free hand, pulling away from the kiss and both of your chests are rising and falling rapidly. his lips are hovering over yours and you can’t help but reach up and connect the kiss again. he pulls his face back slightly and you furrow your brows.

“i need you to agree with me, sweetheart” chris says, and you nod your head, giving him the green light to tear your skirt off. it becomes so real when he’s asking for permission instead of just messing around.

he only needs one hand to slide it off your body, and you raise your hips to help shuffle out of it. your panty line touches his lower stomach, and you feel his now hard cock press into your skin.

“chris, take them off,” you tug at the waistband of his pants.

“whatever you say,” and you chuckle at his response.

he shuffles them down, managing to kick them off the lower half of his body. your mouth is almost watering at the sight of how hard he is, pre-cum drenching the grey fabric.

chris has his hands planted either side of your head, and you lay gazing up at him. the look that his icy blue eyes give you is hypnotic.

“you know what i want, y/n?” the slight strain in his voice makes you want to pull him to you.

“what do you want, chris?” your tone is soft and airy, and it makes his cock twitch.

“i wanna hear you scream my name,” he plants a kiss to your collar bone. “i want you to cry out for me,” he kisses your stomach. “i wanna make you cum on my face” he kisses your pelvic bone.

he looks up at you from your crotch, his hands intertwining with yours by your sides. he takes your panties between his teeth and drags them down to your thighs.

chris dives between your heat and with an open mouth, sucking hard. his tongue is pressed hard against your clit and swirls circles around, making your body jolt and fuck into his face hard. he growls into your skin, eating you out like he’s been starved for a decade. you release your hands from his and dig your nails into his shoulders. you quite literally think you’re about to draw blood with the pressure you’re using.

“fuck, o-oh, chris,” you pant.

“m’god you taste so good,” he mumbles into your cunt, licking up your folds and circling, wiping his mouth and then going straight back in.

he takes two of his fingers and presses them against your entrance. he spits hard, and you gasp.

“sh-shit,” you roll your head back and flutter your eyes closed. he pushes his ring and index finger into you and curls upward, hitting your walls. he fucks his fingers back and forth into you while continuing to stimulate you with his tongue.

he hits a spot on your clit that almost makes you shatter then and there.

“right there right there right there” you plea, squeezing his hair in your fist. your legs are shaking and thighs are squeezing his head.

chris wraps his free hand up behind the back of your knee, so you’re like a vine wrapped around his arm. he pulls you so you’re tight around his face and grinding into his mouth.

“g-god i’m s’close,” you exhale, neck straining into the pillow. chris hums against your heat and the bed underneath you is drenched, a mix of your juices and his saliva.

his fingers curl and thrust and the sounds are so loud. the moans parting your lips are making chris rub into the quilt underneath with his dick. you’re convinced he could make himself cum from hearing you alone, with how dire his need is for friction.

your stomach knots and heat rises across your body. you thrust your hips up and chris’ face follows, gluing himself to you, pulling you close.

“i wanna hear you, pretty girl. say my name,” he’s catching his breath between his words before working on you again.

“chris oh my god, fuck, FUCK,” you scream out, pulling so hard on his hair you’re not sure how you didn’t pull any out.

your climax build up so fast that you feel you’re about to black out, chris moans into you and finally pulls away to let you cum. you’re shaking and clawing at any surface you can, the bed sheets, his skin, yourself.

opening your eyes finally you watch as he licks you up hard and slow one more time, and you twitch with shock. and his face is a glistening mess. his fingers slide out of your pussy and he brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

“holy shit,” you’re struggling to regain your train of thought, and chris is crawling back up your body. he drops beside you with a hand on your waist, turning you so you’re both lying facing each other.

“that’s a sight i could get used to,” he presses your lips together again, and you’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, tasting it on your lips.

“that’s a feeling i could get used to,” you agree, and for once, you’re on the same page.

“now chris,” you speak, shifting onto his lap.

“yeah?” he traces his eyes over your body, hands on your thigh, looking up at you.

“what else do you want?” you mimic his actions, kissing his chest, down his torso, to his very subtle snail trail and hips. you feel his hips roll, and know he’s dying to break free of his boxers.

he stops you from getting too far down and grabs your cheeks between his grip, making you look at him again.

“i wanna fuck that pretty mouth,” he states, watching a satisfied smile grow on your face.

“how bad do you want it?” you tease.

“so bad, y/n,”

the moment you hook your fingers onto his waist band is the moment a pounding knock at his bedroom door is heard. you both audibly groan and you roll off of him, flailing onto the mattress.

chris jumps off the bed and adjusts himself in his boxers, wincing as he does. you can only assume how much built up pressure there is that he’s waiting to release.

“what?” he opens the door just a crack, so only his head is peaking out. you hear matt’s voice on the other side and he’s begging chris to come back up to the party. which you had forgotten about by this point.

“alright alright, i’ll come up.” you hear chris’s frustrated tone snap back. he slams the door shut and scratches his head, sauntering back over to the bed. you support yourself on your elbows and watch him walk back.

“you’re going back upstairs?” you piece his sentence and actions together.

“fuck no, come here.”

needless to say your relationship has become a lot more complicated. maybe it’s less of a what you both want, but what you need.

[wonwoosthetic]

Hi! So I have a newer idea for Daryl that popped up in my mind while shopping today. It's 100% okay if you don't want to write this, though! It is kind of long so I completely understand if you don't feel like writing this 💜

Basically, Daryl meets reader, aka Shane's fiancé, at the quarry and could instantly notice how toxic Shane was to her. She wasn't allowed to really talk to any of the guys in the camp and was forced to do most of the laundry to keep her from interacting with the rest of the group. However, one day while Shane's off doing you-know-what with Lori, Dale sends reader to go hunt with Daryl with a compound bow that he'd found. To Daryl's surprise, she's amazing at hunting and they have a little convo about Shane. They then stumble across Shane and Lori going at it like rabbits but silently retreat, not making a scene. Back at the camp, when Shane returns, reader simply just places the ring back in his hand and tells him they're over. Being free to do what she wants, she starts getting closer with Daryl over the next month or so, and when they get to the CDC, her and Daryl have this cute moment with a few people watching them and then Glenn, in his drunken stupor, makes a comment about what a cute couple they are. Cue the sudden realizations from both sides that they like each other. Can end with a confession or not. <33

a/n – first of all, to everyone who reads this: you better check Krys out! I am absolutely IN LOVE with everything she writes (Daryl and Hazel is my favourite but literally everything is a masterpiece!) second: to get a request from one of my favourite authors on this app here is an ABSOLUTE HONOUR and I truly truly hope that I could somehow reach your expectations!!!! Thank you so much for sending me it, and I really hope you and everyone that reads this enjoys it ˙ᵕ˙ thank you for marking my start in writing for Daryl now too!😊

A little side note: surprise, I still can’t write short stuff, but bc tumblr is a bitch and is messing with long stuff I post, I decided to make 2 parts, so I can truly involve everything I planned, I hope that’s okay!!🤍🤍

masterlist

word count – 7.4k

pairing – daryl dixon x fem!reader, shane walsh x ex!fem!reader (rarely)

warnings – cursing, mentions of sex, infidelity, toxic man

Don‘t Talk To Strangers Or You Might Fall In Love – Pt. 1

Later in the evening, the women gathered down at the quarry once again. With each holding onto a basket of some sort, carrying the laundry of the rest of the camp residents, they had found their usual spot by the water. Their hands were already starting to get wrinkly by the amount of clothes they had to wash - it had only been a couple of days, and there was already a pile of it.

A wince from the oldest woman of the group made all three heads snap towards her, their eye following her carefully.

"Everything okay?" Jacqui asked, stopping mid-movement before she set down the soaked t-shirt she was holding.

Carol was quick to brush off her concerned tone, sending the woman a quick tight smile as she re-adjusted her position on the ground.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she cleared her throat. "Just... a stone."

The other women shared a quick knowing look. Yes, the surface they were sitting on was mostly stone, but not enough to get hurt or even wince the way Carol just did. She must've hit one of her bruises against the hard ground. One of the many that decorated her skin. While some of them she had clearly been able to hide underneath her clothing, the women couldn't help but notice the ones on her arms. And while some seem to fade, it didn't take much longer for new ones to appear just a day later.

"You know," Amy jumped into the conversation. "You... you don't have to share a tent with him." Everybody immediately knowing, who she meant. "You could stay in the RV, or-"

"I'm okay, Amy. Please." Carol's tone made the younger woman stop again, going right back to the task at hand. While you had hoped you'd go back to finish off your work in silence, Jaqui had other plans as she raised the volume of her voice to reach you, who was sitting a little further off.

"Well, speaking of shitty husbands." Getting a scoff out of the older woman. "Where's Shane, Y/N?" A chuckle erupted from Amy. 

"Huh?" Your head shot up at the mention of his name. You found three awaiting pairs of eyes fixed on you, sending an uncomfortable rush down your spine.

"Where's your husband?" Amy repeated the question, her voice holding a slightly more gentle tone.

"He's not my husband. Just... fiancé." You shrugged. "I don't know...," mumbling as you were almost too embarrassed to admit. "He said something about going hunting."

Jacqui let out an annoyed huff of air. "That was hours ago. It's getting dark soon, doesn't he think-"

"I trust him to know how to keep himself safe. He knows what he's doing," you told her mindlessly, pouring the now dirty water back into the river in front of you. 

You knew how most of the group felt about Shane. He had declared himself as the leader of your little group, thinking his status as a sheriff made him the right fit despite some of the eye-rolls and annoyed sighs it had gotten from the rest in return. It didn't seem to bother him, not even a little bit. You had tried to defend him, wanting to explain his plan of action and knowledge to the others, but he had shushed you down quickly. His own stance was enough for him to stand in front of the group of people, promising to lead them well and try to figure out how to move forward in the, what you'd now call, apocalypse.

While he was securing his place as the tough leader, commanding each person around and giving them a set role in the group, you had tried to find a sense of community. If you were to go and travel further with these people, might as well try to create some form of comradery. But that was brought to a halt before you could even truly start. By Shane.

'They're not your friends. They're just random people. We don't know them and we don't gotta know them.' He had told you. You had tried to start an argument, wanting to explain that while you didn't know most of them just yet, you might as well start now if you're going to spend more time in an enclosed area with them. 

'Let's keep an eye out for Lori and Carl. She just lost her husband, for God's sake.' He never really explained just how he knew that Rick was officially dead, but the two members of the Grimes family seemed to be his only concern. The fact that you had known Glenn for a while now and considered him a close friend, almost a younger brother, didn't even register with him. He was just 'another dirty man, just like the rest of them' to Shane. He had made his opinion of the members of your group very clear. They're strangers. If it wasn't about Lori and Carl, it wasn't important. Why you were the one washing their clothes though was still beyond you though.

Jacqui was just about to open her mouth again, not wanting to drop the topic of conversation just yet, but a loud voice from up the quarry got your attention.

"Ya just don't give a shit, ya old bastard!" Daryl's uncanny accent echoed through the open area.

While a deep sigh tumbled from Carol's lips, Amy tried to ignore the fight a few feet away from you and Jacqui shook her head.

"These Dixon brothers, I swear to God... I don't understand why we haven't made them leave yet."

"Daryl's a good hunter," Amy commented quietly with a slight shrug.

"Yeah, and selfish," the older woman spat back, "And Merle? He's nothing but dragging everyone here down."

You decided to leave the scene in silence, not wanting to add anything to the conversation. You believed that everyone had a good reason for acting and behaving the way they were. You'd like to think that your good nature was part of the reason why Shane fell in love with you. Your years of dealing with children coming from troubled families had taught you that there's mostly good in almost everyone, just that most hadn't had the chance to find that side of them yet. In some ways, the Dixon brothers' attitudes reminded you of them. 

Back in the camp, you brought the washing bowl back to where the rest of the clean laundry was already hanging to dry. Before you could go any further, hoping to find some alone time in your tent, Dale's voice made you stop.

"Y/N!"

You looked up at the top of his RV, where he had secured a chair, a small table and an umbrella to keep the sun from frying his skin.

"Hey, Dale," you smiled at the older man, who copied your facial expression. While some had come to find him to be a 'typical grumpy old man' - and by some you mean Shane - you and Dale had gotten closer over the short time you had spent in the group. He reminded you of your dad, who at that point in time was God knows where. You hoped he found a group similar to yours and was trying to find his place in the world you would now be living in.

"You know how to use a bow and arrow, right?" He asked you, remembering the story you had told him.

You nodded, shielding your eyes with one hand as the sun was starting to make them hurt. "My dad taught me a little, why?"

"Look what I found," he grinned before turning around to pick something up. He crouched down, now with a compound bow in his grip as he tried to get it down to you. With quick steps, you got closer, your eyes brightening up at the sight.

"Oh my god... Dale!" Your smile only widened once you got your hands on the bow. You let your hand glide over the metal, finding it to be heavier than expected. It was still in perfect condition, but you couldn't even finish admiring it before your eyes found another item being dropped down at you.

"Those were next to it," Dale added as he handed you a bag holding multiple arrows that were hopefully supposed to go with the bow. He watched your smile as you couldn't take your eyes off the archery tool. "You think you know how to handle that thing?"

"I mean... my dad taught me how to use a longbow, but... can't be that hard, right?"

The older man couldn't even answer you as a scoff erupted from behind you, followed by the familiar scruff voice of Darly.

"Ya think it's that easy." Stating it more than wondering. Knowing not to start a conversation with him unless truly needed, only able to imagine how Shane would react if he found you talking to him, you decided to ignore his comment, focusing back on Dale who seemed to have done the same.

"Where did you find it?" You asked him.

"Oh just... from a house a few minutes away. Thought you could use it."

"I don't know when yet, but... I'll try," you smiled at him.

"How about you go and try it out now?" He suddenly asked you.

His question made your head shoot back up to look at him in wonder. "Now? What do you mean?"

He sighed. "It's gonna get dark soon and Shane and Lori aren't back yet, we should try-"

"Lori?" Her name fell from your lips as you glanced around the area, only finding the youngest Grimes sitting in the grass, entertaining himself with some sticks and stones. "Where is she?"

Dale shrugged. "Said something about finding berries and whatnot-" Another scoff from behind you made him stop to shoot Daryl an annoyed glance. "I think we should try to at least get something to eat for the kids. And if they're not back anytime soon, they won't have dinner."

"What? My huntin' skills ain't enough for you, old man?" The younger Dixon brother shot up from his crouched position on the floor, nudging his head up at Dale, who was clearly annoyed by his attitude.

"A squirrel isn't gonna feed an entire group. Take Y/N with you and try finding something."

"Dale-"

"Shane's not here, honey," he immediately stopped you, apparently already knowing what your argument would be. "I think he'll be okay, knowing you were out finding something to eat for the kids."

"That asshole would rather watch 'em kids die than send her huntin' with any of us!" Daryl spat back, ignoring you standing right next to him.

He turned your head towards him. "Don't talk about him like that." Speaking to him in a much softer tone than he just did, only getting a shake of his head and an annoyed mumble in return before he turned his back towards you, making his way towards the woods. A quick glance back up at Dale made him nudge his head towards the direction the archer had just disappeared into. You could either get sulky and refuse to go with the man who had clearly other interests than to go hunting with you or you could be the bigger person and focus on bringing something into the community. Even if that meant rebelling against your partner's order to stay at the camp and focusing on the laundry in the quarry. You decided on the latter, knowing that he'd find something to get annoyed at one way or another.

With a sigh, you nodded to Dale's proposal and swung the bag of arrows over your shoulder. Turning around to follow the way Daryl had just strutted, your eyes found his silhouette already between the trees. It was uncanny. Anyone could tell it was him. His zero-fucks attitude and his arms just casually hanging by his side- The pop of his hips with each step he took just underlined the sass that man possessed almost making you chuckle.

Unlike a lot of the other members of the group, you didn't necessarily dislike him. His brother was a totally different subject. They were difficult to deal with and most definitely not the teamwork type of personalities - not directly at least. You had noticed the multiple times Daryl would vanish from sight, only to come back a few hours later with a few dead squirrely thrown over his shoulder, that he would then give to the group after skinning them. It was absolutely disgusting, to say the least, but he did his part to be a valuable part of the community, even if he might had been a unique character and more challenging to deal with. 

What Merle's issue was, you had yet to discover, but the man didn't intrigue you enough to bore into his background story.

A good few minutes in, you still hadn't caught up with the archer, his steps being way bigger and faster than yours. Panting, you hoped he would hear you.

"Can you slow down for a second? Please."

Not following your words, Daryl kept up his pace, only turning his head slightly. "Don't need yer husband to see us together out'ere or we'll be the ones rotatin' over the fire instead of a dear."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, even scoffing loudly at what you had just heard, and mumbling too quietly for him to hear.

Your reaction made him suddenly stop in his tracks and turn his entire body towards you. "What? Ya think I'm kiddin'? I seen the way he talks to ya and everyone else in that godforsaken camp. Treats everyone like shit if it ain' abou' that woman or the kid."

Your glare didn't even intimidate him a bit. Neither did he budge when you took a daring step closer to him.

"How about you focus on yourself and stay out of other people's business? He's trying to be a leader, alright?"

"More like tryna be a dictator. Mussolini woulda loved him." Without another word, he turned around to continue his way further into the woods, leaving you in slight surprise rooted into the ground. A shake of your head and a deep breath brought you back into the present, making you follow him again. You tried to keep the distance between big enough to keep him away from you, let close enough to still have him in view - you sure as hell weren't going to get lost in the middle of the woods.

Looking down to be careful about each step you took, you held onto the strap across your chest. With your view on the ground, you didn't notice Daryl having stopped again, making you suddenly bump into him.

"Oh- sorry." You took a quick jump back.

He had lifted up his arm to the side, keeping you from going any further. Only after looking up, you could follow his gaze, finding what had gotten the archer so enthralled. Between the bushes surrounding you ahead on a tree, there were two chipmunks perked up on a branch. They hadn't noticed you yet and if it hadn't been for Daryl's eagle eye, you had to admit, you would've overlooked them as well.

Suddenly, overly confident, you realised this was the moment you could prove your skill. A skill you hadn't trained for in a few months, but you had long enough training before that, you believed. Swiftly, you grabbed a bow from the bag on your back and took a slow step back, careful not to make any loud noise to disrupt the two animals. Daryl had his crossbow already sitting on his shoulder, his eye trained on the chipmunks as he kept totally still.

"On three," you whispered as you drew the bow in your grip. You couldn't see the archer's slight confusion as he didn't budge, only knowing he had heard you when he suddenly started counting down. As soon as the number 'three' left his lips, you let your arrow shoot through the sky, him going at the exact same time, pressing the trigger on his crossbow. The two bows hit the chipmunks perfectly in sync, making them fall from the branch and onto the floor.

"Yes!" You whispered to yourself in a cheer, brushing past Daryl with a wide smile on your face as you made your way over to where your prey was waiting for you.

The man continued to stand still, only his eyes following your movements as his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Only a few seconds later, he found you standing up straight again, proudly holding up one of the chipmunks. He followed your steps, coming to a stop as he looked down at the other animal still on the floor.

"Was that beginner's luck or...?" He asked you as he gathered it off the ground and took out his arrow before taking its companion out of your hands to put both of them into the small bag he had secured by his hips. Your eyes drifted to his arms. Glistening in the sun behind you. He had been collecting dirt all over his body, but the sweat now on his biceps was making it look only half as bad.

You shrugged, not even trying to hide the small smile still on your lips. "Maybe a little since I haven't used one of these in a while," holding up the compound bow.

"Who taught ya?" In surprise, you glanced at him, not expecting to continue the conversation as you went back to resume your hunting journey through the woods.

"My dad."

You noticed his steps suddenly slowing down again, making you turn towards him in wonder. A finger brought up to his lips told you everything you needed to know. Daryl started looking around carefully, while you just turned in a circle, wondering what he had heard. And then you saw it. A 'geek', as Glenn had labelled them, was making its way towards you.

"How on earth did you hear that?" You whispered at him, but the archer just propped his crossbow up again, ready to take out the thing coming dangerously close towards you. The noises coming from the dead had only then started to register with you too. Maybe it was your hearing turning on you or maybe Daryl had just a trained ear. Realising that he was close to shooting again, you stopped him with a hand.

"Can I?"

With a careful look, he lowered his weapon again, motioning for you to go ahead, bringing a small grin to your face. His hand was quicker than yours as he pulled out a bow from your bag, handing it over to you before leaving you to do your thing. Drawing it tightly, you didn't let a lot more seconds pass before sending the arrow straight through the geek's eye.

"Fuck, yeah-" Grinning to yourself for a split second before you realised the words that had dropped from your tongue. "Sorry," you were quick to apologise, getting a look of pure confusion from Daryl in return.

"What? Ya not allowed to curse or somethin'?" Oh, if he only knew. After years of being with Shane, you had found yourself truly swearing off the usage of any curse words as your fiancé had labelled them 'unladylike', sending you a look of disapproval each time it would escape you accidentally. Strict looks had turned into warnings, which then turned into arguments, so you had just learned to bite your tongue.

You were about to head up to get it back, back Daryl's voice stopped you.

"Stay'ere." He walked past you towards the now truly dead thing to get your arrow back. After ripping it out of its head again, he took a good look around, turning his entire body before coming back to you.

"They're usually not alone," he pushed the arrow into your hands. "Let's see what else we can find and get the hell outta 'ere before it gets dark."

You just nodded in agreement before following him again. This time, you noticed walking side by side with him as he had slowed down his strides.

To you, it seemed like a relatively comfortable silence, but Daryl didn't agree with that apparently as his grunt slashed through it,

"Yer husband know you can hunt?"

A sigh evidently fell from your lips, but you were able to hold back a roll of your eyes. He was trying to keep up the conversation and you couldn't not admit that you quite enjoyed not necessarily having to walk in complete silence. Even if it meant talking about Shane apparently.

"Don't know," you shrugged.

"What d'ya mean, ya don't know? Yer never talked about that? Ain't he supposed to know ya inside out or some shit like that?" You knew, deep down his words held nothing but truth, yet, you had learned to ignore remarks like that, knowing that Shane was just a different kind of partner than most.

"Why should he know about something he's not interested in?" As long as you weren't out on your own and at home in the evening with a homecooked meal waiting for him, he had never truly cared about what you did. Lying, you'd be out with your friends for a few hours while doing something completely different had gotten you far. Him working late hours most days only helped. You never even thought about telling him about the childhood hobby you had started at 8 years old and had carried with you up until well into adulthood. While you had left home as soon as you had turned 18, knowing Atlanta was the place you'd want to study in, archery was one of the things that had kept you connected to home. To your dad.

"That don't sound righ' if ya ask me," he commented.

"Well," you couldn't help but sigh again, "good thing he's not your issue to worry about."

"But he is." His comment made you stop. Daryl was quick to notice you not walking beside him anymore, making him stop and turn. "I gotta worry about him havin' my balls on a stick if he sees me talkin' to ya."

"Then don't!"

"Then why d'ya follow me into the woods, huh?" It looked like you were about to start a fight with Daryl Dixon.

"Because Dale asked me to. Because no one trusts you to do anything good for the group on your own," you spat at him, continuing your way, making sure to bump his shoulder as you passed him.

The archer scoffed, "Yeah because everyone trusts ya lil' husband oh so much to care for every-"

You came to another halt. "He's not my husband! We're engaged, you ignorant fuck!"

"Oh, careful," Daryl eyed you, "What would'e say if he heard ya talkin' like that, huh?" Sending you a provocative look that made you take a deep breath in, trying to contain your anger.

"I think you got a brother to worry about, Dixon. Enough drama there, don't snoop into other people's lives."

That seemed to have done the job as he kept quiet while you walked ahead. It took a few seconds before you heard him behind you again, proud of yourself for leaving him stunned even if it was just for a short moment. You didn't want to snap at him like that, you had to admit. It just came out and if you could take it back, you would've. He wasn't directly snooping, you knew that. You weren't here to make enemies, at least you didn't want to. You desperately wanted to get along with everyone as best as possible. Not meaning that you'd have to become close friends with each person in the group, just good colleagues.

With your mind deep in thought, overthinking every word you had just dropped, you didn't notice the ruffling leaves close by. Not until you felt a tug on your arm that made you stop. Almost annoyed, you turned around, only to find Daryl lifting his finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. At first, you looked at him in confusion but the moment you heard a grunt, your ears perked up as you started to glance around. You had just ran into a geek with the Dixon brother reminding you that they usually travelled in bigger groups, meaning the possibility of another one being close by wasn't that small.

The grunting continued making your frown only deepen. It didn't necessarily sound like one of the dead, you realised. Daryl started moving around slowly and as quietly as possible, you following close behind, keeping ducked down just in case.

Suddenly, you caught another noise. One that sounded less like a grunt and more like a... moan? Clearly just as confused as you, the archer turned around to meet your gaze for a split second. 

With each step the two of you took further, the noises became much clearer. Shuffling leaves, grunts, and clear moans were now hitting your ear. One specific huff of air made a cold shiver run down your spine. It's like your body knew before your eyes could even see it.

Daryl and you hit a raised ground that kept you from seeing where the noise was coming from as you were still crouched down. But as soon as you let your back straighten, every last bit of air left your lungs. You saw the auburn hair spread out on the grass first. Directly next to it, an all too familiar head of black curls, the face deep in her neck, muting the moans coming from him. With each pound, they became heavier and louder. You already knew it. Right as Shane lifted his head though, you could feel yourself wanting to scream. And if it wasn't for the hand suddenly covering your mouth, you would've.

You were pulled onto the ground, back into your crouched position, and dragged back from where you came from. As hard as you tried to fight the grip the archer had on you, it was no use as he was clearly much stronger than you. The leaves and branches brushed against your pants as he kept tugging on you to keep you right up against him, not daring to loosen the hand covering your lip

Once it seemed far away enough for him, Daryl let go of you, letting you fall to the ground completely as you desperately choked up for air.

"You bastard-" You went at him, only for him to cover your mouth once again.

He pulled you in hard. "Ya screamin' 'ere and an entire hoard will hear ya. Keep quiet," he hissed at you in a whisper. You never noticed the soft specks of green that decorated his striking blue eyes. Not until then.

A quick moment of silence followed as your eyes suddenly filled with tears. Daryl's gaze softened immediately, removing his hand from you as if your skin had turned into burning hot metal.

While you had started to sob in the middle of the woods, trying to keep as quiet as possible, the archer didn't know what else to do, but to stand next to you, his eyes fixed on your shaking shoulders. He wasn't the right person to console someone. Nor did he even know how.

"I told ya he's an asshole," he mumbled, clearly not at the right moment as you sent him an angry frown.

"You didn't tell me sh-"

"I tried tellin' ya!" Raising his voice just a bit to turn his tone stern, yet keeping the volume low enough. "I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son."

"I want to go back," you sniffled, feeling your chest painfully tightening.

"Go back to 'em?!"

"Back to the camp, idiot!" You snapped at him, your hand flying up to your chest. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up." Trying to take deep breaths in that just continuously proved to be hard as you only choked up more. Coughing mixed with your sobs, you fell onto your knees, your hand clutching the very top of your chest as you tried to breathe.

"Hey-" Daryl fell onto the ground right in front of you, his rough hands grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you straight, trying to get you to look at him. "Calm down," he strictly told you.

"H-He-" you sobbed, "he... fucked her. He just-", coughing again as the air got stuck in your throat.

"I know- hey-" you lowered your head to look at the ground beneath you, only for Darly to grab your chin and make you look back up again. "He's a fuckin' idiot. Don't cry 'bout him."

"W-What did I do?" You asked, technically hypothetically, as you continued to choke on your own cries. "What do- How?!"

"Ya didn't do anythin'," he tried to console you. "He's a dumb fuckin' bastard. A coward. A stupid mongo-"

"Lori... I-I thought-," stopping yourself again as another sob shot through your body.

"It's okay," Daryl whispered, "don't fuckin' cry for 'em. Ya think they would cry for ya?"

"What about Carl?!" You ignored his comment, instead continuing to throw out whatever came to your head.

The archer shook his head, "That ain' your problem to worry 'bout."

"She- she just lost her husband... a-and now this?!" 

Before Daryl could say anything, you brushed off his hands from your shoulders and raked yourself up.

Still sniffling, you looked around. "We gotta go back." Noticing that the sun had already started to set and no one was supposed to be out in the dark.

With a grunt, he copied you, pushing himself up to stand again while his eyes continued to follow you as you tried to get yourself back together. You could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin, making you look up. Cheeks tears stained, burning read. Your eyes were swollen, still letting single drops of tears escape as you slowly managed to even out your breathing.

"Let's go back." You re-secured the bag and bog on your shoulder before turning around to walk to the camp. A sigh escaped Daryl's lips as he shook his head slightly before jogging up towards you, stopping you with his hands back on your shoulders. He swiftly turned you around, only to let go again, his steps slowing down to let you walk ahead. This time, in the right direction.

The way back was spent mostly in silence, only a few remarks coming from the archer each time he had to tell you to either turn right or left. In no time, you had come back, finding most of the group either already back in their tents or gathered by the SUV. The sun had fully set, now the only source of natural light coming from the soft glow of the moon.

"There you are!" Dale called out as soon as his eyes found you. The smile that had started to spread on his lips fell quickly as soon as you got close enough to him to let him see the dishevelled state you were in. "What happened?" He gasped, but you just shook your head and made a quick B-turn towards your tent. The tent you shared with Shane.

The older man's tone changed quickly, clearly blaming one specific person for your mood as he followed behind you not much later.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Dale snapped at Daryl, only to get a scoff in return.

"How abou' you ask her asshole fiancé." The Dixon brother left him with that, ignoring the looks of the people around them. He opened his satch to take out the two chipmunks you had caught, only to throw them onto a set-up table and disappear down towards the quarry.

In the comfort of the plastic walls, with the bow and arrows set down outside, you had let yourself let go one more time, the tears not needing more than mere seconds before running down your cheeks again. You couldn't continue crying about this.

'Ya think they would cry for ya?'

Daryl's words rang through your mind. You hated to admit that he was most probably right.

Your relationship with Shane wasn't tense. At least until a few months ago. It had always been a little bit more difficult than you would've liked to, but you remembered the words of your mother, saying 'marriage is hard', making you realise that most likely each couple had their fair share of issues to work through. And you and Shane seemed to just have a good amount of those. Either disagreements, discussions, or different ideas and wants. Everything from as simple as the colour of your living room walls, to which state you'd have your wedding in - since your grandma was almost bedridden, you had proposed to have at least the officiant ceremony in Ohio, but Shane was, surprise, against that.

You glanced down at your ring. A gold band, holding a small square diamond right in the middle. It was beautiful. Even though you had always solely worn silver jewellery and had mentioned the classic round diamond as your dream style. Still, you had accepted the proposal. You looked past the smirks he would send waitresses and secretaries. Ignored comments he made about other people in your life. You had even given in and promised him not to get too close to anyone in the group that was right outside.

It was never 'controlling' in your eyes. You didn't know any better. But while you had to lock yourself away, making doing laundry your only form of 'entertainment', he was having fun with a presumed widow. Whereas he had told you and everyone else that he would be spending the day trying to hunt down 'something big'. 

You shook your head. You had all the reasons to leave him already months ago and yet you didn't. A lot of your friends had told you you'd regret marrying him. But he had managed to get into your head, making you think that they were the crazy ones. That all of your 'dumb sorority girlfriends' had no idea what they were talking about.

Comments and stares were one thing you could look past, but cheating... you had to draw the line somewhere. You remembered all the times your college friends came crying into the dorm, sobbing into their pillows as they complained about their boyfriends fucking around with other girls on campus. Everyone would gather and support them with one opinion: dump him. Leave him. He doesn't deserve you.

'I told ya he ain't interested in anyone but that woman and her son.'

There was Daryl's voice again in the back of your head. Screaming at you. If even he could see it, yet you were too blind to realise it...

With one final deep breath in, you gathered the sleeping bag you had claimed for yourself into your arms, along with your pillow. You managed to drag everything out of the tent, suddenly feeling more free than ever.

Looking around, you found no one sitting outside anymore, indicating most had gone to bed, but the light inside the RV made you hopeful. You couldn't sleep in your shared tent tonight. Or ever again. And Dale was your only other choice. With everything packed in your arms, you made your way over to the vehicle, knocking on the door with your foot. Two voices made you look behind you, your face immediately falling when you found Shane and Lori coming back from the woods. They took their goddamn time.

The door opened, catching your attention again. Dale looked at you in confusion but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

Forget about your age. Suddenly, you felt like a little kid again. Too scared to sleep on their own, begging their parents to let them sleep in their room.

"Y/N?" Shane's rough voice called out your name, making your heartbeat quicken.

You looked up at the older man in panic. "Please."

With no hesitation, Dale nodded, stepping aside to let you walk in, ushering you inside with his hand. Daryl's remark from earlier had engraved itself in his brain as soon as he found the sheriff strutting over to his RV in big steps.

"What is she doing, Dale?" He wondered, his voice holding slight anger to it. "Y/N!" He shouted out your name again, but you gave him no response.

The older man stopped Shane from coming any closer.

"You better leave, son."

"What the fuck did I do?!" He unknowingly asked before getting the RV's door closed in his face.

The moment silence took over the enclosed room, Dale turned to you, now sitting on the small sofa.

"What the fuck did he do?"

If there was one person in this apocalyptic world that you had come to trust, it was Dale. He had already let you into his home, he deserved to get a reason for it.

You could already feel the tears filling your eyes again. Both of you ignored the knocks on the door, the old man's eyes fixed solely on you as he sat down by the small dining table, ready to wait patiently for you to answer his question.

"He... he cheated on me...," You couldn't hold back the sob that followed. "With Lori." The added remark made Dale's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He leaned back into his chair, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair as he huffed out a chunk of air.

"Daryl and I- we saw them in the woods-," You let your head fall into the palms of your hand. The old man was quick back on his feet, on his way over to you.

"Oh, honey," sighing out, but stopping as the heavy knocks on the door continued. With an annoyed huff, he rushed over to the door to pull it open.

"Get the fuck away from my RV!" Shouting at Shane, not even giving him a moment to answer as he smashed the door close again.

"I-I don't know what to do." You admitted in sobs, glancing up at the man as he got closer to you, making space to sit down next to you. A comforting arm found its way around your shoulder while his other hand rubbed your upper arm.

"That man doesn't deserve an angel like you," he whispered at you, hoping his calming voice would soothe your cries. "He clearly doesn't know what he lost with a stupid act like that."

"He proposed to me," you showed him the ring in desperation. "Only to cheat on me?"

"What can I tell ya, kid... young men are...," Dale sighed as he shook his head. "Dumb... and blind. They think they own the world."

You continued to sob in the man's arms. Listening to his soft voice as he spoke to you while you kept on your rambles of despair. Why Lori out of all people? You used to go out on double dates with your partners. You had known Rick Grimes for a good few years now. He was a good man. You had thought Lori was a good woman. But there she went, sleeping with an engaged man. The colleague, and best friend of her husband. Who may or may not be dead. Maybe Rick was gone, but you were still there. Only one partner of the cheating couple was widowed. The other part was still very much in a committed relationship. Or so you thought.

"W-What do I do now?" You wondered out loud. "How am I supposed to continue this?" Not necessarily talking about your relationship with Shane, but the situation altogether.

"You don't." Daryl's simple but straightforward answer made you look up. In the meantime, your sobs had quieted down again.

"What?"

"You tell him," he strictly told you. "You tell him what you saw. And you end it. Men like that... they don't change."

"God...," you fell back into the cushions behind you, running your hands down your face as you wiped the tears away. "Was I just... not good enough for him anymore? Why would he do something like this?"

"I wish I could tell ya, honey. But don't think that this has anythin' to do with you," Dale's stern voice made you glance at him. "Men like him don't think. You think he really thought of the possible consequences of his actions?"

You shrugged.

"He didn't. If he did, he wouldn't have done it. And men like don't deserve a second chance. Hell- they don't even deserve a first chance. But they're charming and whatnot, and before you know it, they're havin' their dicks in other women, breaking hearts of the ones that actually care about them."

You decided to stay quiet, letting his words sink in and register with you.

"You don't deserve that, honey."

Nodding your head, you took a deep breath in, wiping your nose. "I know..." With a sigh, you pushed yourself to stand up. "I have to talk to him."

"You sure, you wanna do that tonight?" The man carefully asked you, but you had already made up your mind, so you just continued to nod.

Quietly, you left the RV, of course not before Dale promised to set up a bed for you to stay in inside his movable home. You knew you had found the confidence to face your- Shane. Yet, your shaking legs and hands almost betrayed you. Realising, you didn't even truly think about how to start the conversation, the anxiety inside of you only started to bubble up more, hitting its highest point when you suddenly saw Shane exiting your tent.

His eyes fixed on you in the dark, finding your silhouette coming towards him thanks to the light shining through the RV's windows.

"Y/N-" he started, but you interrupted him right away.

"It's over."

Shane's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"

"It's over," you repeated, finding your voice slightly shakier than you would've liked to. You glanced down your hands, almost mindlessly, wrapping your fingers around the gold band. Once, the sight of the shimmering ring on your finger made you smile, now it just shot another wave of sadness through your body. Almost shakingly, you took the last step, pulling the gold band off your finger, the metal leaving your skin, making you breathe out heavily.

"Hey- hey," the sheriff rushed closer to you, making you scoot back in reflex. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" You spat at him, a salty chuckle tumbling from your lips. There was a slight change in expression on his face as he lifted his hands in defence.

"Listen-"

"No, you listen," you stopped him again. You didn't even let your brain think about what words were about to fall from your lips. "Don't even try-" You had to stop yourself, taking a deep breath in, trying to promise yourself not to cry in front of the man that you had lost so many nerves to.

"What the hell are you doing?" He continued to ask you, his frown only deepening.

But you just continued to shake your head, ignoring the anger starting to lace his voice. You had seen Shane angry before. Even angry at you. And it scared you. But right now, the anger, you were trying to hold back, should terrify everyone involved in this situation.

Taking a few steps closer to stop right in front of him, you lifted your hand that was still tightly holding onto the ring you had once worn and shown off proudly. Once Shane opened his palm underneath it, you let it drop down.

"It's over." Before he could ask you anything more, you left him with one last comment hanging in the air. "Have fun with Lori."

Turning around, you could hear his heavy huffs and the callouts of your name, yet he didn't even dare to try and reach out to you, leaving you to make your way back towards the RV. In the back, the sound of him knocking over some of the empty cans you had gathered, filled the silence. Up ahead, you found a silhouette standing still, almost scaring you if it wasn't for the distinct stance you were able to recognise immediately. The dim light illuminated Daryl's scowl as he had clearly watched the scene from a distance.

Arrived at the door of the vehicle, you wanted to at least send him a tight smile, a goodnight and somewhat of a thank you, but the archer had already disappeared again in his usual nature.

I CAN‘T WAIT TO POST PART 2🙈🤗🥰 I loved writing this so much omg

this is me officially stating I'm writing for the man that is Daryl Dixon now too :)

[k2ntoss]

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

[yourstingrey]

“What are you wearing…?”

Description: you forget about laundry day and are forced with the tough decision of going out in your most embarrassing pajamas set in front of a certain Hermes camp counselor

A/N: I haven't written a fic since uh 2019…? So my writing is a bit rusty but I wanted to try to get back into it so hopefully you all don't think this is too bad😭😭😭 The pajamas are inspired from this OW2 character's outfit but obvi changed for the fic! Anywho if you do like this hopefully it'll inspire me to write even more little fics but thank you for reading if you choose to do so and I hope you're having a wonderful day/evening/night!!

wc:1009

Pairings: Athena!reader x Luke Castellan

Warnings!: fluff pretty much and the reader getting teased

You don't even know how you could have forgotten it was an honest mistake anyone could make but certainly not as embarrassing for everyone else. You had woken up just like any other day yawning not truly ready to get up for the day but at camp half blood unless you're a child of Hypnos sleeping in isn't the smartest.

As you stretch out and then slip your feet into your slippers you finally make that last stumble out of bed. Walking up to my dresser and open up the drawer noticing how barren it is so much so a cartoon mouth might as well fly out. I turned around to march up to my laundry hamper, deciding it better to re-wear something this once than to simply have nothing else until I noticed it was missing from its key spot. 

I looked up to see if any of my siblings were in the room and saw my sister, Bea “Hey uh Bea have you seen my laundry hamper? I can't remember where I put it…” I say to her with sleepy confusion laced into my voice “Oh yeah well it's laundry day and you were sleeping for a while so Annabeth decided to take yours and do it for you!” Bea explained, “So all my clothes are in the wash.” “Oh yeah sorry is that a bad thing I mean I can't say I won't judge you if you wanna be those people who don't bathe or anything..” Bea says with an astute tone to her voice and a clear grimace on her face “Um no no it's fine…” I replied under my breath.

I walked back to my drawer deliberating between just going out in my PJs or trying to squeeze into some old t-shirt from my first years at camp. I think we all know what I picked but I did decide if I'm going to wear my PJs out I can still wear my normal shoes, lacing up my sneakers I head out marching my way to the mess hall. 

I walk quietly the cold crisp camp air biting at my cheeks while I notice the cold I fail to notice the sound of a certain Hermes boy sneaking up on me before he lightly tugged on one of my braids “Woah woah where are you going girl” Luke said as he stepped in front of me.

 “Luke! I hate when you do that my hair takes a while y'know.” Luke irked me to no end yet I couldn't help but enjoy all our tiny arguments. “Hold on. What are you wearing…?”

 I look down at my outfit: a basic white sleep tank but then lavender pajama pants with owls and moons scattered about with a matching cardigan on top. “What are you jealous, Castellan?” “Very you think we can get matching sets, hm?” Luke replied with a smirk evident on his face.

“ Ugh Why have you come to pester me Luke” I huff out at him as I shift under his gaze “Just wanted to know if you’re still gonna come to training later” I almost freeze up a little as though it might be small Luke has usually never asked to see if I'm coming or not it's not like its hard for him to get another sparring partner. 

“Hmm I don't know.. These are my best fighting clothes. I think they actually might let me beat you this time butttt I already promised Annabeth to sneak out into the strawberry fields with her later..” As I say this I start to continue my walk to the mess hall not letting Luke interrupt my stride.

“Hey wait wait tell her you’ll go on a different day!” Luke jogs back over and starts walking with me “I don't know why you’re being so persistent this time you’ve never acted like this before!” I sass back to him “Oh what I just want to spare with my favorite Athena girl” “Well it's not gonna happen you can spare with me tomorrow okay” my voice holding a teasing tone.

I look at him and scrunch my nose at him as if he were the foul smell you would get if you ventured to the stables. But with that pause in my step, Luke took it to his advantage quickly snagging the owl sleeping mask off of my head and holding it up.

“Well, you'll just have to come by if you want this back then hmm little owl.” With him snatching my eye mask and this newly formed nickname my face glowed a light pink you would think I was a daughter of Aphrodite for a second “Wait what-” Luke already cut me off with a quick peck to my cheek stunning me again and starts to strut off before calling over his shoulder “Okay see you later then my little owl!”

I turn to watch him walk for a mere second before knocking some sense into myself and continuing my walk. I know I shouldn't go. I'm a daughter of Athena, I should be smarter than this but maybe Annabeth could wait a day. It's just fruit…  I think I just really need “my sleeping mask” back…

[waywardxwords]

I've Got You

Summary: After a year of being in Purgatory, Dean has returned and is trying to make sense of what happened while he was away.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (more of a friendship; they deeply care about each other but nothing wildly romantic happens in this story)

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Light cursing, angst, Dean/Sam contention (this takes place after Dean gets back from Purgatory and Sam is on/off with Amelia), light fluff, light blood/silver testing (non-descriptive)

A/N: Happy October, friends! This is my first entry for the #flufftober2023 @flufftober prompt challenge. The prompt is: "I've got you." I hope you enjoy!

“Dean,” you breathed as you walked through the door of the cabin. Even after you heard his voice on the phone, you couldn’t be sure it was really him–not until you saw him. 

“Test me,” his words were firm and clear–much firmer than you remembered. You processed that the man had been in Purgatory for the last year, and his experience had most likely hardened his already tough demeanor. 

“Dean, I–” you tried to stop him.

“Test me, dammit,” he grumbled as he grabbed what looked like a jug of holy water and took a swig of it. Next was the silver; he didn’t hesitate to run it along his forearm before he wrapped the cut it left behind with a bandana. He wiped the blade on his denim jeans. 

“Dean,” you said, for the third time now. Your eyes burned with tears. You knew it was him from the get go, but now it was confirmed. He handed you the holy water and the blade. You moved slower than he did, but you took a sip of the water and winced at the bitterness; it was laced with salt. Then, you took the blade and matched his movements with a small slice on the underside of your forearm. 

Without allowing another moment to pass, he pulled you in tightly to his chest for a hug–so tight, you thought you might not be able to breathe as your body was crushed against his. 

“God, it’s good to see you,” he breathed in your hair before he finally released you. “Where’s Sammy?” His eyes moved over your face inquisitively.

“I, uh, I don’t know, Dean,” you were careful with your words. You were a little bit angry with Sam, but you didn’t want to have to explain why to Dean.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” The sharpness made you blink, but you knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you with his tone. The man had been in Purgatory for a year, for Christ’s sake. 

There was no way around it, though. You were going to have to try to explain and hope he could understand.

“I’ve gotta get out of here,” Sam mumbled. It had been three days since you all had killed the Leviathans, but somehow Dean and Castiel had been killed in the process. You had spent three days researching and looking for how to find them, but you had come up empty. Sam had tossed around the idea of Purgatory , for Cas, at least, because he was an angel; but neither of you knew how that worked–the death of an angel? Where would they go? Could an angel go to Hell? 

“Sam, we’re going to find them,” your eyes were heavy, you hadn’t slept. The pain of running in circles reading and re-reading and searching was making you feel crazy.

“Are we? Even if we do find them, how are we going to get them out?” Sam was angry, and you understood that. But anger wasn’t helping the situation, and you wished he could realize that.

“I don’t know yet,” you sighed as you placed your elbows on the wooden table in front of you and dropped your head into your hands. “We will find a way. We always do.”

“I have no one now. My family is dead, I just…I gotta get out of here,” he repeated. His words stung, but you knew you weren’t family. You weren’t even a hunter, initially. You had stumbled into this world when the Winchesters had saved you on a hunt a while back. Now that you knew what went bump in the night, there was no turning back. “I’m sorry, but I have to go…” Sam seemed reckless, but you also knew that you couldn’t stop him. Not really, anyway.

You stayed silent, but as the door closed behind him, tears pooled in your tired eyes.

After you had explained carefully what had transpired, you tried to ease the blow. “You always wanted Sam to get out of the hunting life, Dean.” Your words were soft.

Dean sat on the sofa leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he stared at the wall opposite him. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word.

“I gotta get some air,” he cleared his throat and stood quickly. He reached for his jacket. “I’ll be back later.” Before you could say a word, he was already out the door and pulling it behind him with a slam. You couldn’t help but feel defeated, yet again.

This was the third dive bar you had checked in an hour. You had lost hope and wondered if you really knew the oldest Winchester at all as you looked for him. But there he sat on a barstool at the end of the dimly lit bar. 

You heaved a sigh before you walked towards him. “I’m gettin’ real tired of looking for your ass,” you grumbled playfully as you carefully moved onto the stool next to him. 

His eyes didn’t move from the back of the bar as he took a pull from his beer. 

“Yeah, well, at least somebody’s lookin’,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

You weren’t sure what to say to that immediately, so instead you leaned against the bar and flagged down the bartender. “Could I get a Stella, please?” The bartender nodded and went to retrieve your bottled beer.

A few moments of silence passed. “I just thought he’d look for me,” Dean's voice cut through the quiet noise in the bar as he stared at the label on his bottle. His fingernails picked at the edges in a way to distract himself. 

“I know,” you tried to form the words in your head before they tumbled out of your mouth incorrectly. “Sam loves you, Dean. He’s just…he’s tired. Does that make it right? Not necessarily. You’re his brother, but this life…it’s not the life he wanted.”

“And you think I wanted it?!” His voice raised as he looked at you incredulously. 

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you and Sam are different people,” you tried to explain carefully, reminding yourself again that it’s not you, it’s Purgatory. 

He seemed to relax as he remembered this was you that he was talking to. “I’m sorry,” he groaned inwardly as he turned back in his stool to face the bar. “I would do absolutely anything for Sammy. I was lost when he was gone. I just thought he might do the same.” After a quick pull from his beer, he changed the subject. “So, what’d you do this past year?” Dean asked acrimoniously, as he glanced at you briefly and toyed with the paper label on his beer bottle.

You waited for a moment, just as the bartender placed your own beer in front of you. You moved it around in your hands for a few seconds. Like Dean, your fingers found the sticker on the bottle and began to pick at it so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I looked for you,” you answered slowly before you pulled the beer to your mouth and took a sip. You felt his gaze now, his head turned to watch you as if he was surprised to hear what you said. “I hunted a little, here and there. Mostly just when I stumbled upon a job, though.”

“...you looked for me?”

You were surprised that he was surprised. It was your turn to turn your head back to him to meet his gaze. “Of course I did,” you said hesitantly. “I tried everything, Dean. I interrogated demons, I tried to make a deal, I tried to summon Crowley–”

He cut you off very quickly. “Woah, woah, woah,” his eyes were narrowed in on you now and you watched his entire body tense. “You tried to make a deal? And summoning Crowley?” He was pissed. You didn’t care.

“None of it worked, Dean. The crossroad demons said they didn’t know where you were, but I didn’t believe them…though I’m wondering if they really didn’t, since you were in Purgatory,” you were mostly just reading your own internal dialogue at this point. “I’m not sure how that works, exactly.” You nibbled gently on your bottom lip as you processed your thoughts.

“Are you insane?” He was still pissed. His voice rose a bit in volume and you glanced around to see the handful of other bar patrons glance in your direction. 

“Oh, calm down,” you said in a hushed tone while you rolled your eyes. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing.” Dean knew it was true, but he still wasn’t happy. “Again, none of it worked anyway.”

“You know better than that,” he shook his head, the disappointment bled through his words. But somewhere mixed in with the frustration, you heard gratitude.

“And you know better, too. I wasn’t just going to sit on my ass or ride off into the sunset like everything was fine,” you still couldn’t find his gaze. It was easier to stare at the glass bottle between your hands.

He didn’t respond right away. The sound of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” was playing on the jukebox now, and it was the only noise you could hear just over the chatter of the other people in the bar. “Thanks,” you weren’t sure you heard him right away, but you felt his fingers graze the top of one of your hands that was clasped around the bottle. “I’m really glad I’ve got you. So if some shit ever goes down again, no goin' off and making deals to save me. If I came back and somethin' had happened to you..." his voice trailed off. You would spend a lot of time wondering what he had wanted to say, but chose not to. Instead, you moved your head to look straight into those green eyes, and that’s when you noticed it. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and while his eyes were still sad, you saw a glimmer of hope.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As always, I am always open to any feedback you may have :)

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

[wistfulrat]

・❥・lesbian wangxian reccs ・❥・

ao3topships poll gate made me realize there are hundreds nay thousands of u who dont know abt lesbian wangxian ?? that’s so sad can i proselytize u real quick

mimilamp cinematic universe (the ppl’s mcu) sorry for starting this list with a whole author catalog. as if it's my fault!! these gave me covid. no listen mimilamp fics have feverish lesbian angst levels of hot horny despair that could paralyze a large forest animal. and on a sentence level it's just stunning. messy dykes fumbling toward love confessions while making emotionally insane choices and the sex scenes fuckn bang ??? god is real

good, good - 13.5k E Wei Ying has two broken wrists and now she needs Lan Zhan to help her do stuff (jerk off)

here’s a story - 46k E Wei Ying reluctantly joins her recently-dumped best friend, Lan Zhan, on a couples' holiday retreat. Snow! Drinks! Truth or dare! There's a s-s-s-single bed! You'll never guess what happens next.

out of your system - 20k E “Maybe you should get me out of your system,” Wei Ying blurts. “Maybe that’ll help.” // Wei Ying finds out her best friend Lan Zhan is in love with her and offers a really super solution.

exposure therapy - 14k E Wei Ying clambered up from the floor, put the joint on the corner of the night stand, announced, “Exposure therapy,” and got into Lan Zhan’s bed. // Lan Zhan doesn't like to be touched, Wei Ying likes to touch.

know no one else - 20k E Lan Zhan moves out, Wei Ying's boyfriend moves in. Six months later, Lan Zhan visits, they go to a party, and Wei Ying has something to tell her.

74243 this author should be studied in a lab bc these 2 fics ruined my life. a pulitzer prize short fic with immaculate tone followed by the fuck nastiest shit you will ever read. "wei ying swipes right" still a top 3 bar of all time re: fic summaries. like people died.

chef’s kiss - 6.5k E Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.” “There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.” // (Lan Zhan works the late shift.)

pull out game weak - 22.7k E Wei Ying swipes right.

plonk this is the only fic in many ways. dyke nmj's mustache academy award winning breakout role. possessive hot dyke lwj. the sentence "don't knot her you freak." have u ever seen a group chat get rabies in real time. the slut rot breached containment. it was a public health crisis. it brought back horny cinema. cultural reset.

good friends - 11.5k E “I could invite her over for when the game’s done,” Nie Mingjue offers. Lan Zhan hums, considering it. They do that sometimes. Take omegas down together.

occultings will i ever get tired of -wwx thinks she's straight and wants to practice being gay with sadsack lwj who is like sure im in love with u and this will cause me psychic damage but mayhaps that's the cost of being homiesexual--? no i dont get tired of the classics it's called taste

give me one good honest kiss - 25k E The text keeps flashing over and over in Lan Zhan's head like the bulb lights on a marquee. They’d been talking about homework directly before that, swapping notes on music theory in the baroque period. Then, like a fork of lightning out of a clear blue sky: wanna practice kissing? 😚 // Wei Ying suggests an arrangement. Lan Zhan, in love, deals.

saltyfeathers ok so like sure it's ill advised to get your cartilage pierced at claire's but if you wanted the experience of participating in deranged hysteric behavior that kinda bangs in a badgood way? well then.

the mall that has it all - 8k E She introduced herself in the food court, breathless after sprinting across it in Lan Zhan’s direction and vaulting over a table only to crash into the seat across from her, ask, “Can I have a sip?”, spring forward with both elbows on the table to wrap her burgundy lips around Lan Zhan’s smoothie straw, wrinkle her nose, and say, “What is that, kale? Not really my thing, as like, a mall goth. Oh!” A pleased, chaotic exhale. “My name’s Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said, after taking a moment to fully process the last forty-five seconds, “What?” or; mall goth au

[eveandtheturtles]

Dating Advice

Ship: Leo X Reader

A/N: Leo can't catch a break it seems lol I am going to continue bully him for a lil bit more. With the help of his fam ;)

Tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch

Anyone else want in let me know!

Recently Leo has been a bit antsy. A bit more... jumpy? But only in the presence of one person.

April noted his behaviour as you left the lair and immediately pulled him aside.

"Okay, spill." She sat him down in the kitchen and gave him her best 'big sis time' look.

"I- don't know what you mean," he said slowly, clearing his throat and looking away. "Now if you excuse me-" he started getting up.

"Sit," she ordered and he sat back down. "Come on Leo," she softened her tone. "I want to help."

He sighed heavily and tapped his finger over the table. "Fine," he sighed, finally giving in. "It's- well,... How do you ask somebody out? Asking for a friend."

April smiled and was about to answer when as if summoned Mikey popped up behind them.

"Who is asking who out?" He asked.

"No one!" Leo tried to stop the train from crashing but too late.

"I think Leo likes your new friend a little more than 'just friends'," April informed him.

"That's nothing new." Suddenly Donnie spoke up from the coffee spot. He had crawled out of his science cave to inject more caffeine in his blood stream. "You aren't that hard to read Leo," he added seeing the shocked face of his brother.

"Can we stop with the bullying?" The blue masked turtled sighed.

"Who are we bullying?" Raph asked as he emerged freshly post work out with a towel around his neck.

"Leo." All three replied.

The terrapin in question sighed again leaning his head down and rubbing a spot on his forehead. He could feel the headache coming.

"Oh, really?" Raph grinned. "What about?"

"He wants to ask Sweetness out," Mikey informed him.

"I never said I want to! It's for a friend!" Leo protested.

"Really? What is his name?" April asked with a wide grin.

Leo opened and closed his mouth. He then made an undignified noise and slid lower in his chair.

"That's what I thought," she said smugly.

"Bro, you could like make a song for her, chicks are into this kinda thing, right?" Mikey looked at April.

She made an 'eh' face. "Depends."

"Or a poem." Raph placed one hand on Leo's shoulder. "I got one for you bro."

"Don't." Leo glared at him.

"Roses are read, violets are blue." Raph ignored him and continued. "Guess what, my bed has place for two."

"Good one!" Mikey snickered. "How about - twinkle, twinkle little star, we can do it in the car."

The two hollered with laughter, even April had to bite her lips not to join them. Leo was suffering.

"Mikey, if you get anywhere near the turtle tank with that intent I will cut you off the WiFi for life and set your hover board on fire," Donnie spoke up.

"Yes, sir!" Mikey immediately sobered up. Donnie threats were no laughing matter.

"Thank you!" Leo called out, hoping the torment was over. He was wrong.

"That being said -," Donnie took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat.

"Oh, no." Leo sunk further down.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream," purple terrapin sang. "Merrily, merrily, I can make you scream."

"Oh, my god," Leo groaned. "You are my family, but you are all terrible, you dicks."

"Eh, you love us," April patted his hand.

"Hey guys," you re-entered the lair. "I forgot my bag." You took the scene in and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Suddenly all the eyes were on Leo and he just wanted to disappear.

"Nope," he jumped out of the chair. "Everything is peachy! Let me walk you home." He rushed to your side and threw a death glare at his snickering family.

You were very confused as Leo escorted you out.

"What was that all about?" You asked. "It looked like you guys were having an intervention," you joked.

"It was nothing, they just thought they were being funny," he huffed.

"Were they giving you shit because you haven't asked me out yet?" You smirked, giving him a side eye.

Leo felt like a scratch record. "What?" He blinked at you, stopping abruptly.

"You aren't that hard to read Leo." You took his hand. "Also I was listening to the whole thing for quite a while. The sewers do carry sounds well."

His heart was about to jump out of his chest. "And um, do you, would you mind if I did?"

"Nope, so come on, shoot your shot." You nudged him gently.

"Alright," he took a deep breath in. Here it goes. He will not mess it up. "Do you take out game?"

Fuck.

"I mean - Will you check me out? No!" He pinched the bridge oh his snout.

You tried so hard not to laugh.

"I can do this," he said probably more to himself than you. "Will you. Go with me. To the Knicks game this Saturday?"

You giggled and stood up on your tip toes giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, with pleasure."

"Great!!" He smiled brightly. "I can pick you up at 6?"

"Sounds perfect. See you then." You gave his hand a squeeze and exited the sewers. A smile never leaving your face.

Once you were gone he fist pumped, excited. You said yes! That was such a relief! He felt so good he was going to clean the dojo!

Figuring out how to prevent his brothers from going to the game was future Leo problem.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

“And the relative simplicity of her music works with people who just want something mindlessly play in the background. It's also really easy for average people- who have no musical background- to sing along with. The lines are simple rhymes, and she never really uses any specialized vocal techniques like Vibrato. Basically, it's music for bland people who think salt is a spice.”

Some of your takes are valid and it’s healthy to critique anything that amasses such a large following in pop culture. However I would argue there is a way to do this without coming across as a pretentious undergraduate who read a few required and recommended readings from the syllabus and now sips their tea with a pinkie protruding. Let’s remember that tumblr is not inherently full of academics and defining anyone who hasn’t got a certain level of education as average or bland is such an Americanised, my way or the highway way of thinking.

It is possible to have differing opinions to others without insulting their intelligence or falsely presenting them in a certain way. Average people as a term in general, is quite elitist and classist. For example, I have a PHD in literature and am a classical musician. I work in publishing and academia.

That said, I still enjoy pop music, sometimes something can just be enjoyable and it’s not that deep.

Criticising Taylor Swift is low hanging fruit for a lit major who claims to be allied with as many causes as yourself. Or, if you do decide to continue with it, I hope you do it in a more articulated manner that focuses more on the quality of your arguments, and not just an assumption that those who oppose you are stupid or “bland” when I suspect the truth is much more complex than that, as it always is.

Best of luck with further studies. I hope to see more diverse content from you in the future, maybe some literary analysis of contemporary texts, or other artists who you deem intellectual enough to enjoy, or some recommendations.

Honestly- I do not know with which tone I should address this anon. I cannot tell if you are being hostile- but I certainly feel that you are being condescending.  

Thanks for at least direct quoting my words with which you draw issue. I appreciate it- some people send me critiques but fail to outline which of my posts is the problem.  

I can capitulate to exactly one of your points- and admit it is a good point- that I am overly sassy on occasion. The post you are angry about is just me chitchatting with someone about Swift’s live shows- it wasn’t a literary analysis. I cannot do an academic analysis of her live shows- but that does not mean I don’t have an opinion of them.  

Again- it was opinion not argument or analysis. Not a serious post. This is not a blog where I am going to speak like an academic all of the time. I’m here to have a little fun- and try to remind myself why I actually do love what I do for a living.

Generally speaking- I will try to make a more obvious, clear difference between what is just an opinion and what is a researched, literary argument on Taylor Swift in my future posting. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.  

There are some other things about your ask that I want to address, because it struck me as a bit unnecessary.  

You say that I’m “coming across as a pretentious undergraduate who read a few required and recommended readings from the syllabus and now sips their tea with a pinkie protruding” (para. 1). This is condescending. No, I did not simply “read a few required and recommended readings” to complete my education. You say you’ve got a PHd in the same discipline- and yet you want to tell me all I did for my degree was read a couple of books? You should know the kind of intellectual work that goes into real literary study. I am trying to show people with this blog, at least in some small way, that while literary study is not so straightforwardly quantifiably valuable like, for instance, physics- it is still a real discipline. With real requirements on argumentation and logic. It takes intellectual skill to wrestle with concepts in literary theory – but more so to apply them in synthesis and interpretation of textual evidence.   

SO, why are you essentially patting my head and saying “aw-cute she read some books and now thinks she’s smart?”   

To be clear- I am not in undergrad. I have finished two different degrees and am currently working on my third.

Why would you accuse me of classism and elitism predicated solely on a bad joke in a post wherein I am not even doing any real literary analysis? What prompted that? I made no effort to even pretend the post in question was little more than opinion- my real posts however, about literary analysis, I take great pains to research and edit those together with care.  

Also, “Americanized” what? Are you American? Because people ‘round here don’t care about what level of education you’ve got? The access to education varies remarkably state to state- and down into Latin American too- and we all know it. So, there is very much a culture of “help each other out when struggling” and not a culture of thinking that everyone of Earth needs to go through American University in order to matter. What are you talking about? Do you think American’s hold the monopoly on having Dogmatic views or “my way or the highway” thinking? That’s obviously not true- so what are you trying to say here?  

Did you miss the part of my Bio where I talk about being a teacher? I am a teacher in one of the poorest- most unfunded places in the country. My friend- I am repulsed by the idea of classism- I take my position in my community very seriously. Knowledge is not a stick with which I attempt to beat others down- Please understand that.  

Next, you say it is possible to critique without insulting people’s intelligence (para. 2). um, I did not insult anyone’s intelligence? I said their taste in music was bland, which does not correlate to an assumption on their intelligence. Um- I have also said many times that I like simple pop- music. Am I calling myself stupid because I’ve been listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter on repeat? NOpe. It’s just a silly little song- and dancing to it makes me feel cute, young and free- but it’s still a bland song with no literary or moral value. What exactly is the problem here?  

Okay, within this same point you draw issue with my use of the word average, saying that “average people, as a term...is quite elitist and classist” (para.3). Okay, you misinterpreted my use of the word “average” here- as I was not referring to people as “average” because they have no education, or a different education compared to my own. I was only using the term in the most colloquial sense- meaning “in general” or “on average” as in the median percentage of people have no musical background- therefore they find simplistic pop music the easiest to digest and the simplest thing to play in the background or sing to on car trips. It’s pleasing to the ear because we don’t have too much “work” into understanding it- that's what I mean when I say it’s bland. 

If oatmeal was a type of music- it would be pop music. bland filler- but you know it can still be good.   

Okay, let’s talk about your final point “Taylor Swift is Low Hanging Fruit” (para. Whatever I can’t be bothered to count). Ummm? A billionaire musician who has massive worldwide acclaim and social impact is “low-hanging” to you? I mean yeah- she's clearly not worth study through the lens of poetical semiotics, or God forbid- Linguistic Morphology; however, there are several different ways a good analysis of her work could function- through feminist, Marxists, Post-colonialist, or anything under the umbrella of cultural studies. I also intend to do a rhetorical analysis on her use of “lower class” aesthetics and how that attracts the audience she wants. And, I’ve done a couple of syntactical analyses. However, I had to prop those up with a dichotomization of her work to someone with more impressive literary value, like Kendrick Lamar, because her work alone is not strong enough for that type of analysis.  

Apologies if I have written a return, you did not expect or want- perhaps, I should be less sensitive on the internet. I do often brush off people's condescension, especially when I notice that they are extremely young or just do not know anything at all about my field of study. Because why worry about uninformed opinions? I wanted to speak with you, however, because you do care. It is obvious, and I am glad that people do care. I admire you for caring about the integrity of the discipline- but I really wasn’t doing what you thought I was doing.  

 I admire anyone who also studies Literature, and you say you’re a classical musician, I think that’s so impressive! I love classical music! Rachmaninoff makes me feel insane! I love it! You know that one O’Hara poem? The one that is an ode to Rachmaninoff’s birthday that ends “you’ll never be mentally sober” because I feel that line in my bones. And don’t even get me started on Tchaikovsky- Truly, you might never hear the end of it. (CAnnoNS!!!!??? what a guy)

 I just wanted to clear up anything that you found offensive- but I also defended myself because you do know what I’m talking about when it comes to literary study- and so the conversation took priority over the other meaningless “hate” messages I get. And- boy howdy- I've been getting hate messages pretty much daily. 

Promise to no longer be condescending to me and I think we ought to be friends and not fight- let me start- what did you concentrate on for your PHd? 

 I, myself, focus on post-colonialism, feminist theory, and post-modernist thought in American Literature. I work mainly within US Multi-ethnic literature, though, outside of school, I have an intense fascination with medieval or ancient Literature- primarily, these days, classical Sanskrit poetry. Last year it was an obsession with old Norse literature- lol I like to switch things up. Have you ever read the Heliand? It’s about Viking Jesus- so cool and written in old Saxon! But, anyway, I think the unique prosody of Sanskrit is so neat-o. My other obsession is this one old french poem called "le roman de silence" what a crazy little gender-bending 13th century thing that is (haha). And this doesn't even get into my philosophical preoccupations- though I believe I will discuss those on my blog, too, at some point.

Anyway- perhaps I will talk about my more niche interests on this blog- all good things in time. I have no interest in solely focusing on Taylor Swift forever- but I do want to finish saying all the things I’ve been holding back for years. I think it’s important- because Swift holds such a massive influence over people. It’s healthy, as you said, to critique people like that.  

Okay- Sorry I talked soo long. Peace Out :)

[eliyips]

HOW DO YOU MAKE X SO FRIENDSHAPED?!

But also genuinely curious about the design translation from the actual skins to your interpretations due to the small but mighty details added in

Infodump as hard as you want!

If i ever pass up an opportunity to talk about my X design, it will be because I am either dead, or dying!!! neither are true at time of posting, so here you go! I will be going over my ENTIRE design process for Xisuma, starting with my initial design:

My initial design for Xisuma wasn't anything special, in my opinion. Most of what I included was directly ripped from the classic Doomslayer. Though, the face scars were inherited from fanon, of course. :) The changes that I did make were in service of having things make more sense for Xisuma. Namely, the belt buckle, and the fabric covering the arms...

The belt buckle is simple - bullets didn't really make sense as a design motif, all considered - but the fabric is more complicated. I have a couple different ideas about why Xisuma wears the suit, but I haven't settled one way or the other on some of the specifics, so forgive me if I'm a bit vague. Ultimately, It is just my impression that X is not comfortable having his body visible more than it needs to be, whether that be for health-related reasons or for personal/emotional reasons. I don't intend to ever draw Xisuma with his helmet off, because of that. To me, it feels like a violation of boundaries. To be perfectly clear though, that's just for me - more power to other artists who draw him without the helmet/armor! :)

By the time I was full-on fixated on Xisuma, I realized I was unsatisfied with this first pass at his design. Mainly, in regards to the helmet. So I did more work on it!

I feel like my re-design process for the helmet is a good example of the importance of using reference. :) I did a lot of unsatisfactory sketches before pulling up pictures of real helmets, at which point I feel like I settled on something I was happy with very quickly.

Specifically, I referenced motocross helmets! My choice of reference was mostly driven by my passing interest in sports equipment design, though motocross helmets are similarly bulky and have the same distinct mouthpiece as X's helmet, so I think it was a good choice. I also feel like the pixels at the top of Xisuma's skin can be pretty easily read as the brim of a helmet, so it works out!

Other than the motocross helmet influence, I also made the choice to add tubing to the sides and back of the helmet. This rolls with my headcanons about the purpose of the helmet, connecting to air tanks on his back! I also think it helps to distinguish him from the doomslayer, in addition to the new helmet shape.

The only other changes I made were to the helmet's palette, added a few additional grey tones for contrast, and the positioning of his scars. I decided I wanted them to be a little off-center, leaning towards his left eye. I'm pretty inconsistent with how I draw the scars though, lol, so it changed again by the next time I drew him.

At this point my design is mostly settled for him, and I don't expect it to change very significantly any time soon. I don't have much else to say about it, but I listed the other iterative changes I made to the design above! I figure I will continue making small tweaks to his design every time I draw him :)

That said... I have yet to answer your initial question! So I will answer it now:

"HOW DO YOU MAKE X SO FRIENDSHAPED?!"

My answer is that it's (almost) all in the eyes!!! I have already talked pretty extensively about Xisuma's eyes. So I won't dwell for too long! In short, human facial recognition is very closely tied to the eyes. The ability to see the eyes of a character clearly affords you a lot of flexibility when it comes to making a design seem approachable, or "friend-shaped." I painted over a screenshot of doomguy to illustrate my point!

My drawings tend towards being a little cutesy, of course, so that helps :) but you can see that the bright, saturated color, big distinct eyes, and less harsh expression all contribute to making him seem like he is less of a threat, despite this literally just being the doomslayer.

Another thing that helps is, again, related to the style I draw in. My art is very "clean" looking, not gritty. I use a lot of soft shape language and don't texture things too heavily. With Xisuma specifically, I also make no effort to make him seem intimidating. I use very neutral angles when drawing him, I don't frame him in a way that makes him seem intimidating or imposing, I don't pose him too confidently or angrily. Because he's not that kind of guy! Though it would be an interesting challenge to try and make him look as intimidating as possible :) I certainly think he could be quite scary, if he wanted to be. Just a matter of what I'm trying to convey.

... I think that's all I have to say for now! Once again, blown away by all the nice things people have to say about my Xisuma design and my art. Everyone here has been so kind and encouraging, and I really appreciate that. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to yell about Xisuma! If you have follow up questions, by all means, I am ready to answer :)

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

ahhhh sorry for such a big break!!! I’ve been super busy and had no motivation to write- hopefully this writers block doesn’t last too much longer!! Here’s the LINK for part 17. Part 18 - Leni struggles with the loneliness she didn’t expect when arriving back in England. Without speaking to Max and completely skipping the Las Vegas GP, she thinks she’s hit a low point. Little does she know it’s about to get a whole lot worse when Max spots her with no other than her ex-boyfriend…

Sunday, 19th November 2023 - Las Vegas GP weekend.

The Las Vegas weekend was booming. Parties were happening left right and centre, alcohol was flowing and the advertising was just obnoxious.

Obnoxious that was to me. Whilst the race was occurring I was fast asleep- that quiet Sunday afternoon I sat in a local pub with a handful of my closer friends from my school days. It would’ve been pretty wholesome if my ex boyfriend didn’t just turn up out of the blue. I couldn’t have rolled my eyes any harder, immediately turning back to my phone to scroll past the many pictures of Max celebrating his win.

The sense of separation was straight up depressing. In fact, what happened between Max and I seemed to hurt worse than my breakup with my boyfriend of four years. I very quickly began to realise the overwhelmingly stupid mistake I’d made with Max. I no longer knew how to handle the feelings I had for him- who to tell, who to turn to. I replayed every moment over and over in my head about where it all went wrong- how it all went wrong. I was positive I’d exhausted all my friend’s ears about the topic, yet I still couldn’t rid the ache off my chest, no matter how hard I tried. “Guys let’s get a picture!!” My attention was diverted to my friend holding a phone up at the head of the table. Little did I know, taking that picture was about to make my life 10x more dramatic. It seemed that Max somehow did see a lot of things on social media, including the pictures of me and my friends and, sadly, my ex boyfriend sat right next to me. It’s not like I even talked to him once. So of course when my phone buzzed whilst I was sat at home later that evening, it was like all my prayers had been answered. Max had text. However, reading the message wasn’t so… prayers-being-answered-worthy. “I’m gonna go to bed, night night, you two.” I was very quick to leave the room I was in, my two siblings watching me in confusion as I sheepishly hurried upstairs. I didn’t even make it to my room before I was stood still, rereading the bitter toned text from Max.

Max: you could have told me if there was a reason you didn’t want to be with me

The message was short, sharp, it kinda didn’t make any sense, hence to why I was constantly re-reading it. My heart rate was sky high, and if I didn’t eventually collapse on my bed, I would’ve fainted from the lack of oxygen. I didn’t have it in me to hold the reply for another few minutes. I stared in utter confusion, feeling all the colour drain from my face. Leni: what????

Max: you’re back with your ex already

I momentarily frowned at the text, wincing in utter confusion. It became very clear what he was talking about when I remembered the picture from prior today. I felt borderline frantic, then silly. Max being bothered about this was a punch in the gut, maybe now was my chance to explain myself completely. Leni: he’s still friends with everybody, I didn’t speak to him once but I can’t stop him from going out to the same places as me? Max: ok

Leni: can we talk properly about all this? I let out a sigh, feeling as though my chest was about to literally explode. I couldn’t crucify with myself any longer knowing I’d completely destroyed this. Now Max was being blunt? Borderline petty? I knew how he normally text and this wasn’t right. The tears began to form around the same time my fingers started to tremble over my keypad. Max: I don’t know what there’s to talk about Leni

Leni: the fact you think I didn’t want to be serious with you because of my ex?? Max: I know that’s not the only reason

Leni: no its not a reason at all, me and my ex literally haven’t spoken a word to each other since we broke up, things didn’t work between us and I don’t want them to, I stopped things cos you’ve literally just broken up with Kelly, its way too soon

Max: it’s been months Leni, you know how I felt about that relationship and exactly why it ended, you know I would’ve waited for you, but it was all too immature for me, sleeping with each other and then nothing progresses? I don’t want that with you. Despite my attempts, there was no possible way I could even fathom a response. Anything I typed sounded pathetic or desperate- exactly how I felt. Max thought I was immature, maybe I was, but it still hurt to hear from him. I was torn between begging desperately for his forgiveness or succumbing to my internalised rage- thankfully I decided neither would work.

Instead, I kept myself to myself, using my I phone notes to rant out my dismay about the situation- about myself. I’d played Olivia Rodrigo on repeat, cried myself to sleep and during my showers, most mornings, if not all, I woke up with puffy eyes. I had officially hit rock bottom, and there was nothing I could do. I stared at myself back in the mirror. My eyes were red rimmed and despite my best efforts, the swelling around them hadn’t gone down. It didn’t help I couldn’t stop crying. I was so pathetic and immature, Max was right. I was being so dramatic, treating this like I’d broken up from my decade-long boyfriend. But I soon came to realise that’s exactly what it felt like. I’d been friends with Max for as long as I could remember, even during the awkward teenage days when I was too scared to be around boys. I remembered the prior few years before, when I was so happy to see him at the Grand Prix weekends, how close we’d been. Maybe getting together in the first place was a mistake? No. No that can’t be right.

How could it be when I’d just realised I loved him- and I think I always had.

My forehead dropped against the mirror with a groan, only picking it up when my phone screen lit up from the floor below me. At first my eyebrows knotted together, then they released in surprise.

Dad: I’ve bought your tickets to fly to AUH on Thursday. Geri’s told me you’ve been moping around, we’ll talk about it when you get here but I’m not having you missing the last Grand Prix. Fuck. Don’t get me wrong- anybody should and would be grateful for their dad doing this for them, and I was. But the thought of seeing Max was terrifying- I felt like an outsider, somebody who shouldn’t be there. It dawned on me that everybody’s friends and families would be there- including Max- I’d have to face his mum and sister knowing everything that had happened between us. I proceeded to drop my head against the mirror again. The anxiousness grew in my belly fast, all I wanted these past few days was to see Max, now all I could hope was for not to see him. As much as I hated to admit it, I absolutely dreaded the Grand Prix. Not only was I an angsty mess- I was an ungrateful one too…

————————————————————————

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24@larastark3107 @maxxiemoo @crashingwavesofeuphoria @18754389 @eviethetheatrefreak @rossylightwood @formula1mount @gulphulp @lou-bean28

[saintsenara]

Heyy, just came back from reading your analysis for remadora and snupin, and I just wanted to say THANK YOU for speaking the truth no one else seems to aknowledge.

First of all, Tonks is a queen and neither Remus or Sirius held a candle against her. I agree that their relationship wasn't at all perfect, that there were many topics to be discussed and explored there, and let's be honest, Remus isn't exactly healthy boyfriend material, regardless of his age.

Which takes me to my point. I love some fluffy snupin fic with a sweet and regretful Remus as much as the next person, mostly because it feeds my joy on seeing him actually beating himself for his mistakes and how he was as much of a bully to Severus as the rest of them. I want Severus's pain and the role Remus played in it to be acknowledged in their relationship.

However, I also want to see some good canon compliant snupin fic where Remus Lupin is presented as the low-key cruel and dark asshole we know he is. I don't buy that he only remained with the marauders because he didn't want to be alone, hell nah, that was Peter. Remus enjoyed their shenanigans and the pranks just as much, and I bet he was the mastermind behind a lot of them. I believe he was the only one who had some guilty conscience afterwards, but it wasn't nearly enough to make him re-consider.

I want some snupin fic where their dynamic follows the one we see in canon. Severus being terrified of Lupin and traumatized after what happened in the Shack, I want Lupin to low-key get off his fear because it makes him feel superior to the usually composed and indiferent Snape. I want Lupin to have been weirdly fixated with Severus since their school years and that's why he never stopped the pranks, because he enjoyed seeing the other boy under their mercy. I want Lupin to "hunt" him as both a teenager and as they're both professors in Hogwarts. Back when i read the books, I always thought his behaviour with Severus, both when they interacted and when Lupin talked about him with others, was kinda fruity. Like, what's up with than enthusiasm to see him wearing woman's clothes? How come he's the only one who refers to him "Severus" when everyone else, except for Dumbledore, calls him Snape? Yeah, it always felt weird to me.

In short, I simply think their canon compliant dynamic would be much more interesting if taken in consideration for fanfics. I love the whole "prey/predator" dynamic they could have.

ahh, thank you so much, anon! i'm delighted that you enjoyed my thoughts on both snupin and remadora - there are dozens of us!

[and i'd like to also draw your attention to this excellent addendum to the remadora point by @evesaintyves - i think it's really important for all of us remadora fans to be vigilant about challenging a tone which is far too prevalent in our conversations that to think about tonks - and lupin - as queer devalues them and their relationship within a canon-coherent setting.]

and yes - absolutely - i love seeing the messiness and thorniness of lupin explored - in snupin or otherwise - by stories which engage with the ruthlessness which lurks beneath his mask of benign affability. bring me the story which really gets into lupin describing his midnight jaunts with the lads in full werewolf form as "the best times of my life" - and clearly never being anywhere near as sorry about the risk he was running as he makes out in prisoner of azkaban...

[and also the fact that it doesn't seem quite as clear to me as i once thought it did that he didn't know anything about the werewolf prank...]

and i think there's an enormous amount of potential in using the longstanding cruelty which is tangible in snape and lupin's dynamic as a vehicle to bring down the mask behind which he lives - and that his relationship with his own sexuality is a really interesting example of that.

there's a homophobic undercurrent to a lot of the marauders' bullying of snape - the nickname "snivellus", for example, is based in the idea of snape being improperly masculine - which endures into the adult lupin and sirius' relationship with him [sirius' comment about snape being lucius malfoy's "lapdog" is him insinuating a sexual relationship between them in which snape is implied to be the receptive partner; lupin obviously thinks that snape would regard being made to cross-dress as humiliating and emasculating].

and while i love the portrayal of the wizarding world in fics as some sort of queer utopia - because i love the escapism of it - the evidence we have from canon is that this is... a pretty far-fetched thing to say about a society which is so obsessed with blood and lineage and the continuation of both of these things.

someone like lupin, who already depends so much on maintaining a mask of "civility" and conformity because of the precarious status his lycanthropy confers upon him in the eyes of the state strikes me as someone who would really struggle to acknowledge himself as queer in any way without thinking of that queerness as deviant and as dangerous to him.

[which is such an underrated remadora premise - tonks is clearly much more comfortable with being experimental and explorative in how she engages with the world. you could have so much fun with the impact tonks' relationship to her own queerness would have on lupin's relationship to his.]

lupin discovering snape is queer - and the combined fear and desire this might inspire in him, and how this would be received by snape, who is still so hung up on being afraid of and humiliated by him - could be a really complex and tangled premise for a story.

which i think you may have just offered to write...

[misguidedasgardian]

Desire & Duty (Prologue)

Prologue

Summary: In the midst of family feud Aemond discovers yours and Helaena’s little secret 

Pairings: Helaena x Targaryen!sister reader, Aegon II x Helaena, future Aemond x Targaryen!reader x Helaena

Warnings: Medieval ASOIF Customs, canon incest, cursing, polyamorous, incestous polygamy, Aemond is oblivious to girl on girl love 😂, a visit to a pleasure house, skin trade, girl on girl action 🔥, oral sex (m receiving), use of the word whore, this chapter is to set a tone.  

Wordcount: 1.7 k

Notes: Ufff welcome to another one of my cray cray. ANYWAYS, this is going to be short, I’m thinking 3 more chapter besides this one, I just want to make it short and sweet and kinky 

Aemond was summoned by his brother and King, late at night, to his private chambers, he found him disheveled, perhaps disturbed  

“What is the matter, brother?”, for Aemond it wasn’t unusual to find his brother drinking and made a mess out of himself, but today, tonight, something did seemed truly off with him, something was bothering him

“I discovered my beautiful sister wife has a lover”, he said with a cynical smile, as he emptied his cup in a last big gulp

“Helaena? that is not possible”, he said, chuckling darkly

“Yes it is, and you won’t believe who it is”, he continued his teasing

“Who?”, he asked, truly concerned

“Our baby sister”, he offered with a sick smile.

Aemond felt like his cheeks were on fire, he retrieved the looks out of Aegon’s face to look into the hearth. Looking for an explanation of why suddenly he felt like he could burst into flames.

“That is not possible”, he muttered, “they are both girls… and… they are innocent”, Aegon laughed cruelly, serving himself another cup

“You don’t think two girls can be lovers? didn’t I teach you anything?”

“Those were mere whores”, he said dismissively, “these are our sisters…”

“Who enjoy fondling each other too much”, he said bitterly, and Aemond couldn’t believe his audacity

“You cheat on Helaena and commit adultery almost every night”, he threw on his face, “you have fucked every whore in the street of silk!, and you are angry because Helaena spends too much time with our baby sister?”

“Yes, “too much time”, he mocked. Aegon seemed resigned, but Aemond was not, he was curious and flushed

“Have you… seen them?”, he asked sheepishly, and Aemond cursed when he felt his pants too tight from imagining his sweet sisters together. Aegon looked at him, and reading him like a book, he draw a sick smile

“I haven’t had the pleasure”, he mocked, “but something tells me you do want to see them together”, Aemond cleared his throat that it was suddenly too dry

“No, I'm just concerned, (Y/N) es but a young girl, she is to be betrothed soon, and she shouldn’t be…”

“Finger-fucking my wife?”, he asked, amused

“Aegon!”, he chided, “they are our sisters! they deserve respect!”

“Well, for what I’ve heard, they are not so different from the whores I like to fuck”

“Why are you taking this so harshly?”, he asked then, “it is preferable they share each other's company than the company of men”, Aegon laughed cruelly

“I’m just sad they don’t invite me to join them”, he mocked, but Aemond didn’t believe that is all it was to his brother’s nuisance. He finished his tenth cup of wine from the evening and ten turned to his brother, grabbing his shoulder harshly

“We might not get to see them, but we can see others…”

Aemond admitted it to himself, thinking of his two sisters together did make his cock stiff inside his leather trousers, them both being so sweet, he imagines their soft warm hands on each other, and their sweet kisses 

Maybe that is why his desire made him follow Aegon, in disguise, to lose themselves into the streets of silk.

He followed his brother to the most exclusive pleasure house they could find. Were Aegon was a regular 

The madam was thrilled when she saw Aegon had brought his younger brother. Since his introduction into the world of pleasure, when he was thirteen, he had never returned to any of the brothels of the street of silk, they would know, the madams all talked amongst themselves. 

And he just had walked into her establishment, she needed to show him the best she had. 

“My princes”, she greeted, “welcome to my fine establishment”, for once, Aemond let Aegon do the talking for him, as he dealt with the madame, he looked around with his hands tightly grasped behind his back. He followed the pair when she led them towards one of their most beautiful rooms

Aegon whispered something to the madame, and she only smiled knowingly, she then turned to Aemond

“We have someone very special for you, we brought her all the way from Lys”, purred the madame, clapping her hands, through the doors appeared a beautiful woman, and Aemond’s air got caught in his throat 

The young woman had silver hair, and deep purple eyes just like his sisters, her skin was pale and unblemished, from behind she could clearly pass as one of you. 

Aegon chose another, a dornish girl with beautiful features, both girls led them towards the sitting area, filled with exquisite fabrics and cushions for the most confort. Aemond, normally, would be sickened by the touch of a woman of the skin-trade, but tonight was different, this young woman was different. 

While he let this woman push him towards the sofa, two more girls entered the room.

“Aegon”, Aemond called, but his brother was deep in his cups and in his desire, the dornish woman already kneeling between his thighs

But the two that just entered the room paid no mind to both men, as they started kissing and caressing each other right in front of them, over a huge bed placed in the middle of the room 

Aemond hadn't visited a pleasure house since that time Aegon took him on his thirteen name day, but tonight he let the Lys woman pleasure him, kneeled between his thighs and his cock in her mouth, while he and Aegon watched two women love each other in front of them. 

You and Helaena… at the very same time, far away… 

It was strange to refer to you both, together.

You never meant to fall for your own sister, it all started so innocently. You would seek each other for company, to soothe your worries in the uncomfortable family climate. Helaena was a sweet and kind soul, gentle and caring, and Aegon always treated her horribly, you had always been good friends, you had vivid memories of her caring for you since you were a little girl, she would braid your hair, and help you dress, you were his baby sister, and she loved you and you loved her back. She was your loving big sister

But in the comfort of Helaena’s chambers… 

“Everything is going to be alright”, you whispered sweetly, as you cradled her face in the palm of your hand, Helaena leaned into your touch, and you caressed the apple of her cheek with your thumb 

‘

“I have horrible nightmares every day”, she whimpered

“They are just nightmares”, you whispered, but she only shook her head

“You know they are not”, it was true, your sister had dragon dreams, she was a dreamer

“What have you seen?”, you asked then

“War, blood spilled”, she whispered. “someone taking you away”

“Someone awful?”, you asked, she shook her head

“Since we are in the midst of war, they will want to sell you out for an alliance”, she said with her eyes filled with tears, “they will betroth you soon…”

“I won’t let them”, you said, “I won’t leave your side”

“You would go against mom?”, she asked, hope in her beautiful eyes

“Maybe she would betrothe me to Aemond”, you said, she shook her head

“He would like that, he won’t let you go either”, she smiled gently, “I can see it in his eye, he loves you, he is going to ask mom to marry you both”

“We both know we need to make alliances, and Aemond and I are the only ones that can make them through marriage”, you said bitterly

“You were always the smartest one”, she whispered, you smiled warmly at her, and she smiled back at you

“If mother and grandfather want to marry me off for an alliance to make us stronger, I will say yes”, you warned, but your eyes filled with tears as did Helaena’s, “but it will break my heart to leave you”, she nodded, understanding, “that is what I will do to keep us safe”

“I know”, she said, she leaned in and kissed your lips sweetly

“Is it wrong?”, you asked against her lips, “what we do in the night?”, you didn’t know any better, your mother had refused, with strong determination, to never let you hear anything regarding men, pleasure, not even bedding or “baby making”, so who better person to ask than your married sister?

You were a curious, and very… driven… young girl 

“What does your heart tell you?”, she asked then, and you shook your head

“That it isn't”, you admitted with rosy cheeks, and she smiled back, “but I still… want to feel a man between my thighs”, she giggled

“So do I”, she said back and you laughed 

“Maybe Aegon can take me as a second wife”, you suggested, but she frowned

“No..”, she whispered, “I do not wish for that, but… indeed, the dragon has three heads”, she said, and you looked at how her pupils enlarged like those of a kitten, she leaned in, kissing you, but this time, it was hungrier, more passionate

Her sweet hands managed to lower your night dress, releasing your breasts, and she was on them in a second leaving your mouth dropping wet kisses down your neck, his soft hand touching your breasts, with care, and devotion. You moaned softly.

“Helaena”, you called, like a prayer, and she only hummed against your skin, her thumbs playing with one of your nipples while she kissed and sucked on the other. 

You moaned more louder, not caring if the guard posted outside your doors listened, they were probably used to it by now

“Where is Aegon?”, you asked in the middle of your bliss, Helaena abandoned your body, only to undress, you did the same, ridding yourself of your light night dress. She straddled you and you could help but place your hands on her hips, you then caressed her skin until you reached her breasts

“i don’t care”, she answered, looking down at you with adoration, you smiled right back at her

“What if he found out?”, you asked innocently

“Oh, I bet he’d like to join”, she giggled, leaning in and kissing you again.

taglist, (for those who showed interest when I pitched it! ❤️❤️🔥🔥

@sloppy0bitch @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsdelight @floofdeloop 

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Wow, I missed posting last week. I'm a loser. Sorry. Truthfully I was not fully in it last week, or this week for that matter. But I wanted something posted and it's freaking confession time so I persevered and did it! Whoo! This chapter is a tad bit shorter and I have never, ever written a scene like this before so it was an experience. Hopefully my reading experience didn't make it suck as bad. I'm trying. I really am lmao. Enjoy!

Chapter 18:

The next morning, you said your goodbyes to Jill as she had to leave to finish her mission while you had to make your way back to the hotel you and Ada were sharing. You were sad to leave your friend once again, and you could only hope that life will be kinder to her. Maybe you will run into each other again at some point in the future.

Maybe once Umbrella was gone for good.

You were nervous to walk through the door of the room you shared with Ada. You wanted to tell her how you felt, but your doubt and insecurities were going to make it ten times harder to do.

You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the negative thoughts, before doing the secret knock you and Ada came up with early on, as she has the only key to the room.

You listened for movement from inside as the door abruptly opened and Ada stood in front of you with a deadpan look on her face.

“Y/n. How was your little sleepover?” She asked, tone nonchalant as she walked away, back facing you. You could tell from the way her shoulders have tensed that she was bothered by something.

“Uh, it was good. It was nice catching up with her after so long.” You said as you walked into the room, keeping your eyes on her as you shut and re-locked the door behind you.

Ada huffed as she sorted and packed her things in her duffle bag. “I'm glad you had fun. Start packing your things. We're heading out soon.” She aggressively shoved a dress into her bag.

You hesitated. “Are- are you okay?” 

“Fine.” Ada dismissed.

You hummed, watching her as she was still turned away from you. “You know, we talked about you last night.”

“Did you now?” Ada drawled, uninterested in whatever you and Jill talked about.

You took a slow, hesitant step forward. “Yeah. She brought something to my attention. Something about you.”

Ada paused before slowly turning to face you, arms crossed, hip jutted to her right. “What about me?” She asked, ready to defend herself as she assumed the worst.

You took a deep breath and another hesitant step forward. “She told me you were jealous.”

She raised a brow. “Jealous?”

“Mhmm. Jealous.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Of her. Jealous of the way we interacted with each other.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Right.”

You walked closer to her, now only a few feet apart. “You shouldn't be jealous of her. She's only a friend.” You said before she could speak.

“I'm your friend.” She snapped, arms still crossed as her frustration rose.

You can't help but smile, her feelings for you becoming more clear now that Jill had helped you open your eyes. “You are. And you know I can have more than one friend, right?”

Ada scoffed with an eye roll. “Uh huh.”

You decide to just tell her right now before she becomes more upset. “But… maybe me and you can be something more than just friends.”

Ada's face fell in shock, completely taken aback from the sudden turn in the conversation. “Y-you… I'm sorry. What?” 

Huh, she stuttered. It wasn’t often that you got Ada Wong to stutter.

You take a deep breath. “Look. I've never done this before so there is a good chance that I might embarass myself by saying this but, I like you, Ada. I really like you. And I think I have for a while now. I have always admired you. Even when we first met. The entire time we were in Raccoon City together I was trying to convince myself that I hated you, but I didn't. I don’t. I've always found it very hard to hate you.” You paused, looking down and away from Ada who just stared at you with a look you couldn't quite decipher. You quickly lost what courage you had started with when you couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. “But, um, if you don't feel the same way as I do then that's fine. Just figured I should let you��� know.” You finished awkwardly.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ada take a slow step forward, as if she was afraid she would frighten you, before taking another more confident step. Then another, and another.

Once she was close enough, she reached her right hand down to take your chin in a gentle grasp with her pointer finger and thumb, carefully moving your head up to make eye contact with her.

She gave you a moment to allow you to pull away from her if you so choose, before her straight, unreadable, face broke into a warm, gentle smile that she has only ever shown to you.

“Can I kiss you, Y/n?” She asked, her warm smile and gentle grasp on your face still there as she patiently waited for your response.

You were dumbfounded, completely caught off guard, having not at all expected this outcome. Fully expecting to be denied. Not embraced.

Your cheeks flushed as you worked through the brain fuzz her touch caused, quickly nodding your consent. “Yes.”

Her smile widened before she slowly closed the space between the two of you. Her warm, glossed lips, connected with yours almost hesitantly in a slow, but affectionate kiss. Giving you time to get used to it. Used to her. She kept you in a weak hold in case you decided to pull away.

You responded to the hesitation by moving your arms around her to hug her waist, bringing her closer to you in encouragement. Wanting to show her you truly meant every word of your confession. 

You wanted to be more. You wanted to be with her.

She responded to the encouragement with eager, yet gentle, enthusiasm. The hand on your chin moved to be placed on the back of your head as her other hand came up to cup your cheek in her palm, urging you to be closer to her.

The kiss was pure bliss and felt like it lasted for hours, but in actuality it only lasted a few short minutes before you had to pull away. You both gasped for the air that you neglected during the moment you had both waited years for and thought would never happen. Ada looked at you with pure joy and admiration in her eyes that you returned, before she pulled you forward once more for a quick peck on the lips.

“So, that's what you and Jill talked about? Us?” Ada asked after a few moments, your face still held in her hands.

You nodded. “She helped me realize that you might feel the same way I do.”

Ada hummed as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours. “I might have to thank her whenever I see her again. She was right. I do like you. In fact, I might even go as far as to say that I love you, Y/n.”

You smiled wide as you laughed, face flushed with pure joy as you pulled your head back slightly to face her properly. “You just had to one up my confession, didn't you.” You teased her.

Ada shrugged with a grin. “I mean, you get full points for admitting it first and getting the ball rolling. But I didn't think you would admit your full feelings for me if I didn't do it first.”

Leave it to Ada to notice that you avoided the L-word for the word like. She was right. You didn't say it first because you didn't want to scare her off for good.

“You're right.” You admitted.

“As usual.” Ada teased, still hugging you close.

“Shut up and let me confess.” You playfully shoved her shoulder, before taking another breath. “I love you too, Ada.”

Her teasing smile softened as she pulled you in for another slow kiss, before pulling away and placing a short peck to your head.

“I’m glad you admitted it first. I had convinced myself you didn’t feel the same way and that it would never happen. Was just going to continue living in the friend zone for the rest of my life.” Ada said as you two separated, her dragging you to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.

“Funny. I was the same way. When Jill first brought it to my attention, I didn’t believe her.” You said as you grabbed her hand in yours.

Ada seemed surprised by your statement. “Why not? You’re smart, hilarious, and kind. Not to mention gorgeous. But I see you for more than just your looks. You’re the first person I’ve met in a while to accept me for me. You don’t try to change every part of who I am. You understand that not everything in this life is simply just black and white. You actually take the time to understand my thoughts and opinions in situations where we disagree.”

“You do the same. Like what happened with the files and Jill.” You pointed out.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “The point is, you taking the time to have those conversations just proves that you care. That I’m not just a pretty face to you. That I actually mean something to someone. Something to you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that. So, I love you, Y/n. I mean it.”

You nearly wanted to tear up from her words. The honesty and vulnerability she was showing you right now was something you never thought either of you would have with one another. The fact that she was comfortable enough with you to tell you this made your heart hurt in the best way. 

Instead of crying, you smiled, pulling her into an embrace that made you want to hold on tight and never let go. Ada immediately returned your embrace and held you with the same amount of strength that you held her in. Usually you could only stand hugs with people for a short amount of time. But with her, you would happily stay in her arms forever if she wanted you to. 

“And I love you, Ada.”