#they just feel like such natural compliments to me...

[star2fishmeg]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʀᴀɴɢʟᴇʀ

Authors Note | Cowboy!Luke headcanons for my Homegrown AU. If they seem familiar, these were sent, by me, to @/wnderify.

▸ Cowboy!Luke who got the nickname ‘Wrangler’ due to his skill that neither of his brothers can match. Whenever they’re talking about Luke and his wrangling on the ranch, it’s always the same compliment: that he’s got a way with horses.

▸ Cowboy!Luke who brings you wildflowers whenever he’s out and about. Quinn’s always told him that flowers are a sweet gesture, and so Luke takes it seriously with you. His little bouquet’s aren’t as extravagant, they’re dainty but he takes time to carefully choose. 

▸ Cowboy!Luke who only dances with you, forever taking you by the waist when he greets you. He’s a goofy dancer, twirling and dipping you just to smother your face and neck with kisses, sometimes singing the lyrics without a care if he’s a good singer or not. If you’re at a bar, he’s a little shy at first, but the more he’s in your company, the more likely he’s to dance happily with you until you’re both stumbling into a corner and sharing long, passionate kisses.

▸ Cowboy!Luke who always says 'Yes ma'am'  affectionally, usually with his notorious smirk. At first, you think he’s being polite, but when he starts smirking as he says it, you know he’s enjoying it, especially if you’re taking charge of a situation or straight up bossing him around (which he also loves). He’s so smitten for you, eyes locked on the way your lips move, or even your own eyes. In those moments when you’re annoyed at him, the words rolling off his tongue make it impossible for you to hold the irritation. 

▸ Cowboy!Luke who has your photo and a love note you wrote tucked in the inside brim of his hat. A hat’s very important to a man and it only makes sense he keeps you tucked in there as well, he thinks of it as bringing you everywhere with him. While he hates other’s taking his hat or other’s wearing it, he only puts his hat on your head because he thinks it's cute, especially since it's slightly too big for you. He jokes about you being his hat stand (and arm rest) just to get a rise out of you.

▸ Cowboy!Luke who also enjoys watching rodeos with you and watching the light in your eyes when you cheer, feeling how you clutch his hand every now and then. One of his favourite parts is being able to walk around with his hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans, or to have his finger hooked around your belt loop, he’s just so proud and happy to have you, why wouldn't he want to be seen with you?

▸ Cowboy!Luke who takes you on rides around the trails with him, just to have some alone time to chat and ask about your life. He works with his brothers all day, most days with little time to himself so when he does get that time, he’s saddling up the horses and strolling through a trail side by side with you. It’s his favourite part of the day, getting to listen to you talk and tell him what you got up to, even if it wasn’t much at all, he’s all ears with the soppiest look in his eyes and his hand on your thigh.

▸ Cowboy!Luke who loves showing off how hardworking he is on the ranch, knowing that you'll kiss him at the end of his day. You’re leaning on the gates and watching him at work, every now and then he passes and leans in for a kiss before continuing with what he’s doing. He’s insistent that he shows you ‘his way with horses’, and by that he means how he tames them and how they naturally gravitate towards him like magic. You’re always impressed, which only encourages him.  

▸ Cowboy!Luke who manages to wiggle you into every conversation, especially if he's being flirted with, pulling out your photo and alternating between 'Ain't she a pretty thing?' and 'Ain't she an angel?'. He’s not the smoothest talker, but he knows how and when you bring you up, after all, he’s not interested in anyone else but you. 

▸ Cowboy!Luke who likes to take naps with you, laying on his chest, either across the front seat or back/cargo bed of his truck, hats over your eyes. Now and then he’ll lead you into his room or to a sofa, getting you to lie down so he can snuggle into your chest or neck, pouting if you’re not scratching his back or playing with his hair. 

▸ Cowboy!Luke washing his car during the summer and insists he needs you as his helper, purposely soaking you whenever he gets the chance for giggles. If you’re wearing a white top, then you’ve set yourself up. He’s spraying you the second he gets the chance until your top’s transparent, and all he’s doing is laughing until you’re ringing out a sponge over him. He’s one-hundred percent taking the opportunity to hoist you onto the hood to stand between your legs, hands taking your face to capture you into a kiss, and one with tongue because he’s a little shit. 

▸ Cowboy!Luke who takes his shirt off during the summer when working on his truck, especially if you're around. He does it partially because it’s hot, but mostly because he knows you’re a fiend for him when he does, and hey, if it means you’ll run your fingers over him more, he’ll do it. He’ll flex his muscles when he catches you staring, drawing giggles from you, coaxing you into padding over to wrap your arms around him. He hums feeling your palms run over his chest and stomach, and when you start doing that, he knows you’re purposely distracting him. He doesn’t mind.

nhl wags | @bunbunbl0gs @bewaryofpity (To be added to taglists, just comment or ask via ‘pass me the puck!’) [Masterlist] [Requests CLOSED]

2025 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

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[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ be my valentine? ♡ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Third Years x gn! reader

𓏵 1026 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcannons, no pronouns used, fluff, a bit ooc(?)

First Years are done! Second Years are done, too! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

I think Cater would act like Valentine’s Day is just another excuse to flood Magicam with cute posts and aesthetic gifts. He’d play it off like it’s all for the fun of it, saying things like “Gotta keep up with the trends, y’know?” But deep down, he actually cares a lot about making the moment special for you.

His gift would be trendy and well-presented, maybe something sweet with a cute aesthetic, but if you look closer, there’s an extra personal touch—something that shows he actually put thought into your tastes. If you bring it up, he’ll wave it off with a playful grin, but there’s a rare moment of sincerity in his eyes.

"Aww, you really think so? Heh, well, I guess I did put a little extra effort into this one. Don’t get used to it, though! You’re just lucky I’m such a generous guy—ahaha!"

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I think Trey wouldn’t make a big fuss about Valentine’s Day, but he’d definitely prepare something nice for you. He’s the type to keep things warm and genuine—no flashy gestures, just something that shows he cares.

His gift would probably be a homemade treat, something classic and comforting. He’d hand it to you with an easygoing smile, acting like it’s nothing special. But if you compliment his effort or say it means a lot to you, you might catch the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks before he clears his throat and chuckles.

"Glad you like it. Don’t go expecting fancy things from me, though—this is just how I show appreciation. Besides, sweets always taste better when they’re shared, right?"

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I think Leona would act like he couldn’t care less about Valentine’s Day. He’d scoff at the idea, calling it a “pointless holiday for lovesick herbivores.” But despite all his complaining, he still finds a way to acknowledge it—just in his own Leona way.

His version of a gift is low-effort on the surface, like tossing a small trinket or snack your way and mumbling, “Here. Don’t ask questions.” But it’s too perfect to be a coincidence—it’s exactly what you wanted or needed. And if you press him about it, he’ll groan, pretending to be annoyed, but his tail flicks behind him in amusement.

"Tch. You’re overthinking it. Just take it and don’t make a big deal out of it… Hah? Smirking at me like that—what, you want me to spell it out for you? Keep dreaming, herbivore."

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I think Vil would treat Valentine’s Day as a day of refined elegance. He’s not interested in cheap, over-commercialized romance, but he does believe in meaningful gestures done correctly. If he gives you a gift, it’s going to be high-quality, well-thought-out, and suited perfectly to your tastes.

He presents it to you with effortless grace, watching your reaction with quiet satisfaction. If you gush over it or tell him he’s being too generous, he’ll smirk and tilt his chin up, as if to say “Well, of course.” But there’s something softer in his gaze, something unspoken yet sincere.

"Naturally, only the best will do. Did you really think I’d give you anything less? Hmph. It would be embarrassing if my significant other had poor taste, after all."

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I think Rook would treat Valentine’s Day like a grand performance. He wouldn’t just give you a gift—he’d turn the entire experience into something poetic, dramatic, and entirely him. You’d probably receive a beautifully wrapped present along with a handwritten letter overflowing with romantic prose.

His excitement is impossible to contain, and if you get flustered, he only leans in closer, drinking in your reaction with an adoring smile. There’s no need to question how much he cares—he makes it very clear.

"Ah! The look of delight upon your face is a sight more dazzling than a thousand sunsets! Mon trésor, it brings me endless joy to bestow upon you this humble offering of my affections! Ahaha! Do not look away—your blush is exquisite!"

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I think Idia would panic at the thought of Valentine’s Day. He’d overthink it so much that he’d almost consider ghosting you until it was over. But after an entire night of agonizing over what to do, he’d finally settle on something—probably an item related to your interests, carefully selected after hours of research.

Of course, he’d struggle to actually give it to you. He’d probably send it through Ortho or leave it somewhere with an awkward note. And if you dare bring up how sweet it is, he’ll go into full meltdown mode.

"I-It’s not a big deal, okay?! It’s not like I stayed up all night picking it out or anything—ahaha—oh, Great Seven, this is so cringe, I wanna bury myself alive!"

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I think Malleus would find Valentine’s Day fascinating. It’s a human tradition he’s never properly experienced, but once he learns about it, he takes it very seriously. He approaches it like an ancient ritual—deeply thoughtful, highly ceremonial, and just a little too intense.

His gift is something extravagant—maybe a rare artifact, an ornate piece of jewelry, or something imbued with a hint of his magic. He presents it with all the solemnity of a king bestowing a royal favor. If you tell him he didn’t need to go all out, he looks genuinely puzzled.

"Why would I not? This is a day to express deep affection, is it not? A mere trinket would not suffice for one as precious to me as you."

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I think Lilia would be completely unpredictable about Valentine’s Day. One year, he might go all out with the most extravagant (and mildly terrifying) gestures—singing dramatic love ballads outside your window at 3 AM. The next, he might hand you something utterly chaotic, like homemade food of highly questionable origin.

But beneath all his mischief, there’s sincerity. If he gives you a genuine gift, it’s something deeply personal—maybe an old keepsake with sentimental value or a charm infused with protective magic. And if you call him out on how sweet he’s being, he only grins.

"Fufufu! Did I surprise you? Valentine’s Day is so much fun! Now, come, my dear—shall we dance under the moonlight, or shall I prepare another culinary experiment for you?"

[maryspenreturns]

A Dream Date

(Contains Force Feeding, Mobility Issues)

After our third date, you were pretty sure that I was a feeder. Between the massive meal, the extra dessert, and the sneaky little snacks I've been leaving you every chance I get, well, your jeans have gotten a bit more snug. Not that you mind the extra pampering, you're a greedy eater, and you wouldn't call yourself "fit", you're bordering on "fat", and it's only going to take a few more dates for you to be official, at this rate. You never thought much about your weight, you've always naturally been chubby, and a bit greedy with your food, but now with someone pushing you, you've begun to wonder what would happen.

You admit though, having someone dote on you has been nice, and you have enjoyed the food, even if right now you are feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortably full. Unbuttoning your jeans, you sit on the couch, not even fully noticing the bag of candy you've grabbed for yourself as you sit back to watch some TV. One hand lazily feeds yourself while the other caresses your swollen belly.

Groaning, you can feel it, rock hard under the layer of fat you've grown, it's almost a work out to be the full, or what you'd imagine a work out felt like, as you feel yourself drifting to sleep

***

You snap back to reality, finding yourself sitting in front on a large table. Looking around, it looks like a very nice restaurant, but how did you get here? And your dress...fits! Well that's one relief, everything had been feeling pretty tight on you lately.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your belly, gently squishing it as I kiss your cheek. I greet you warmly, making sure your comfortable, and more importantly hungry. A flurry of compliments follows, ranging from how gorgeous you look, to how lovely your dress is, and to how soft your stomach is. You blush at the last one. I've never outright complimented how fat you were before, but something about it made you tingle a bit.

I lean over you with a hand still on your belly as the first plate of food slides in from seemingly nowhere. Pasta, glistening with butter, cheese, and a delicious rich creamy sauce. Your eyes go wide at the size of the plate, you couldn't possible eat all of this, you insist to me, but wish a gentle squeeze of your belly again, and some choice encouraging words, you grab a fork and dig in, as if possessed.

It is delicious, so delicious in fact that you feel like you've never really eaten pasta before. You hardly notice how much and how fast you're eating, all you know is that you need more. You grab a slice of bread, so engrossed in the pasta that you don't realize that the plate wasn't there before, then another, then a slice of cheese, a piece of fish, all sorts of food, all while trying to eat as much pasta as you could as fast as your could, as though it might disappear if you stopped for even a moment.

But it did come to an end, and with the rush of the taste fading from your tongue, the reality of all you've eaten began to set in. You winced, your stomach painfully distended, pushing your dress to it's limits. You didn't know that your stomach could stretch that far as you gentle lay your hands on it. You whimper to yourself, you've gone too far this time. In fact, even looking down, the top of your dress looks tighter, and your hands a little pudgier. What was happening to you, you panic, how are you fatter.

You feel my hands wrap around your belly again as I whisper how since I met you, I've imagined you getting bigger and bigger. I cup my arms around you as though to show my idea of how fat I want you.

Your eyes widen at the idea of your belly being that round as you try to protest, but something about the idea sent shivers through you. But you're too full now to even think about that. You try to move, but you find yourself pinned down by your own bloated self, as I push another bite of pasta into your mouth.

(Let me know if you want more of this story!)

[makingspiritualityreal]

Mleccha natives fit everywhere and nowhere.

There is a certain universality to their controversy, as in that they are controversial everywhere they go and they will always stand out, regardless of their environments’ response to them. There is an international niche for those people, existing in thrift stores and ethnic shops.

I lived in several countries and travelled around the world and as a strong Mleccha native, even though I’m not a de facto public artist (yet) and I mostly kept my creativity hidden or didn’t have time or opportunity for it, I initially expected that when I “find my place” I will finally be received by like minded people in a certain way. Instead, I replaced one type of cliche present in one culture with another, picked up things that suit me here and there, and felt like an outcast pretty much anywhere.

I used myself as an example, but then I thought of a cliche very common in Poland (where my ancestry comes from). People there believe that as an artist, someone who stands out, you would have a better life, do better, make it better in the USA or Western countries because they are more accepting of people who are “original”. Having had more experience in the USA over time and being Canadian-born, I can tell this cliche is false. There is a mainstream stereotype in the music industry present in the USA that involves mostly rappers and over sexualised females that exist to please the so called male gaze. Any artistic expression is subjugated to that, and no matter how liberal people believe the West is, it is really just another box to squeeze yourself into. There are also many interesting quirks, as in seeing how few women here wear skirts or dresses. As someone who wears them most of the time, some people told me “wow you’re so elegant”because I didn’t wear sweatpants to walk my dog. So wearing pants outside of special occasions tends to be the cliche for females in the western world, and if you don’t, you’re already original.

The reality is, as an artistic soul you will be the odd one out wherever you go. You can only hope to find an outlet for who you really are, the place you feel like home, those few people who really love you, and those who are meant to receive your talent, and accept that you will have haters no matter what you do. There is no magical land, that will forever be unconditionally accepting of eccentricity. If you walk on the street like you just escaped a convention (which I love and I want to see people on the street do it too) and this is your natural self expression, you will get stared at everywhere. There may be slight cultural differences (I think I got more compliments in the USA but more stares in Europe), but at some point you just gotta be yourself, do what works for you wherever it works for you and not count on anyone’s approval as long as you feel honest about what you express.

For those who don’t know, Mleccha Nakshatra are Ashlesha, Vishakha, Shravana and Bharani.

[laurentidal]

Love and Sacrifice

Valentine's Day Special 2025

Tiffany Bennet always hated me growing up. She hated that I got better grades than her. She hated that I was president of more clubs than her. And she hated that I was somehow just as popular as she was. But she had something that I didn't have, and she loved to throw it in my face. She had the attention of the boys.

I was well-liked and anyone would have said I was pretty. But I didn't have the rack that Tiffany had. And no matter how friendly or flirty I was, the boys all just saw me as the nerdy girl at the top of the class. She used to tell me that the only way I'd get a man was witchcraft. Well… She was half right.

I'm not a witch. Of course. But I am an extremely accomplished psychologist. I grew up. I continued to study. I got my Ph.D. I started my own practice. And I'm sure my bank account is far deeper than that slag Tiffany's. But her taunts still haunted me a decade and a half later. So when Dave came into my practice for help smoking, I seized on an opportunity.

He was handsome. He was successful. He was charming. He was single. He was deep in a guided hypnotic trance. And I was lonely. So as his guide, I steered him toward me. And like the good submissive man I now know him to be, he followed marvelously.

I saw his eyes wander over the waitress that night. She looked a little like I used to, before he knew me. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. My heart ached slightly at the thought. I know it's natural and healthy for us to recognize beauty in people other than each other - even I could admit the girl was gorgeous - but he was mine. He should only have eyes for me. It wasn't my fault that we'd hit a rough patch just before Valentine's Day.

The girl's smile lit up the room and I haven't seen Dave so charming in a while. I don't think he even realized the change in his own posture and demeanor. But I did.

Maybe it was the stress of the last months. Maybe it was the never-ending cycle of hope and disappointment and blame and forgiveness. Maybe it was the third glass of wine she set down on the table, but I knew then what needed to be done. I knew that no gift I could give the man I'd chosen could compare with her.

After she took our dessert orders, I looked my husband in the eye and spoke his Words. Without a hint of resistance or a moment of hesitation, his eyes focused on me and his breathing slowed. I told him that he needed to excuse himself to the restroom and remain there until I sent him a text to return. He gave me his programmed response, stood, and walked robotically to the back of the restaurant.

And when she returned with our cake, I made sure that the gold necklace he'd given me an hour earlier was dangling lightly from my fingertips.

I asked her to sit for a moment. She hesitated, motioning to the full dining room, but I insisted. I told her that I was very impressed with her work tonight. I told her that she was obviously very comfortable with people. I repeated again and again about how good she must feel and tiring it must be to be on her feet. How exhausting it must be to remember all those orders. How much she needed to breath and relax. And all the while, the gold necklace spun and swung lazily in the air between us, glittering in the candlelight.

She didn't stand a chance.

I knew I didn't have much time. Despite my insistence, she did actually need to return to her job. But I was a professional. I took her deep quickly, speaking phrases and assurances and suggestions that I knew would take root at the center of her mind. And when I snapped my fingers, light came back to her eyes. She thanked me for the compliments and left with a smile. I texted Dave and he returned, still fully asleep.

I woke him. We ate our cake. We left a big tip. We saw a movie. And when the restaurant was closed, we returned. I told Dave that I'd left something there that I needed to retrieve. This is technically true, though it was a someone. I knocked on the locked door five times in a specific pattern, and the blonde waitress appeared behind the glass, eyes glazed and smiling.

She let us in and led us back to our table, where she promptly began to follow the rest of the routine I'd planted in her sleeping mind. I silenced Dave with his Words as she peeled off her uniform. Slowly. Enticingly. And as I watched, I explained to Dave what his real present was going to be.

Both of them woke with a snap, and Dave looked at me with tears in his eyes. He stood, pants obviously tented, and kissed me hard. He thanked me before turning to her. He asked her what she liked. She answered honestly and in great detail. Dave listened and nodded. Then she bent over the table, holding my stare, and letting herself fall into my eyes and he slid into her.

I sat there watching as Dave cheated on me for what I'm positive for the first time. My eyes had tears in them as well, but I knew that this was what had to be done. I tried not to look at him. Instead I looked at her. I held her gaze and whispered words to take her under again. We began to repeat mantras together, until I felt myself sliding under with her.

His two women, hypnotizing each other for him - for the future -only waking once he was finished. It would work. The problem was never with him. But in a marriage, you have to make sacrifices for the common good.

I was surprised that night at how wet I found myself staring into her beautiful eyes. Perhaps I still had things to learn about myself as well. At any rate, she was ours now. And a once given, a gift can be enjoyed by anyone.

Dave says now it's the best Valentine's Day he's ever had and the best gift he's ever received. Though I never would have thought it possible then, I'm inclined to agree.

Kendra has decided to continue to live with us even after the baby is born, though "was ordered" is probably a more apt description of the process. We've both gotten quite used to having her around. She's gotten very used to the sound of her Words. She's even more obedient than my husband.

Besides, we'll need a nanny very soon.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

[stxrsniolo]

⠀⠀ ⠀✦ ⠀ :⠀⠀somnium⠀ ⠀💭 ⠀ . . .

𝐀𝐄𝐆★𝐍'𝐒 notes : dear reader, this story will unfold over approximately 15 chapters, all of which have been meticulously outlined by yours truly (aka me, yes). it’s a slow burn between the characters, filled with a little bit of everything—from scenes not suitable for sensitive audiences to purely comedic moments, and even the classic teenage drama you’d expect from characters navigating this stage of life.

𝐀𝐄𝐆★𝐍'𝐒 pairing : dreambound!matt x lucid dream!reader

chapter 06: when the night changes

the morning light seemed to have a different quality to it, brighter, more inviting, as if the sun itself was celebrating matt's newfound happiness. the dreams with heist had become a source of joy rather than confusion, her presence in his subconscious like a beacon guiding him towards a better version of himself.

he was up early, the first one in the kitchen on the second floor, the aroma of coffee already filling the air as he prepared breakfast for himself and his brothers. there was an energy to him, a vibrancy that had been missing for too long.

chris was the first to join him, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "yo, you're up early. what's the occasion?"

matt, with a grin that was more infectious than usual, flipped pancakes with the ease of someone who'd found a new rhythm in life. "no occasion, just felt like starting the day right."

nick stumbled in next, drawn by the smell of food and the unusual sight of a cheerful matt. "is this the real matt, or did you get replaced by an alien?"

laughing, matt served them plates piled high with pancakes. "nah, just feeling good, man. can't a guy be in a good mood without it being weird?"

the breakfast was filled with laughter, the kind that comes from genuine happiness. matt was talkative, engaging in conversations about everything from their next video ideas to mundane things like what they should watch on movie night. his accent, always there, seemed to carry a lighter tone today.

"should we do another challenge video? or something more chill, like a Q&A?" matt suggested, his enthusiasm contagious.

chris nodded, his mouth full, "Q&A sounds good. let's give the fans what they want."

nick chimed in, "and maybe some behind-the-scenes stuff, they love that."

after breakfast, matt decided to take on lunch too, a rare occurrence in their household where takeout or simple meals were the norm. he hummed as he chopped vegetables, the melody something he'd heard in one of his dreams with heist.

"since when do you cook like this?" chris asked, watching matt move around the kitchen with confidence.

"since i felt like doing something nice for us," matt replied, the joy in his voice unmistakable.

the lunch turned out to be one of the best they'd had in a while, and the compliments from his brothers only added to matt's good mood.

the day continued with matt feeling this surge of life, this desire to reconnect with the world. he hadn't posted on his personal social media in ages, too caught up in his own head, but today felt different. after showering, shaving, and dressing in a cool hoodie, cargo pants, and his iconic silver horse pendant necklace, he decided to take a selfie.

he posed in front of his bathroom mirror, the natural light from the window softening his features, his smile genuine. he stopped, wondering what he could add to the caption, "nah," he shrugged it off and hit post.

the response was immediate, the comments flooding in:

randomuser: matt's back! and looking better than ever!

randomuser: whoever is making you smile like that, thank you!

randomuser: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

his brothers, seeing the post, gave him knowing looks. "so, who's the inspiration behind this glow-up?" nick teased, scrolling through the comments on his own phone.

matt just laughed, shrugging it off. "just me, trying to get my life back, you know?"

but in his mind, he knew; it was heist, her laughter, her presence, her way of seeing the world had influenced him, made him want to be the best version of himself, even if just to share that with her in his dreams.

later in the day, after the shared activities, matt felt an urge to do something he hadn't done in a while - record for his individual channel, which had been largely neglected. he set up his camera in his room, the same place where he had woken up from his dreams with heist, feeling a connection to her even in this act.

"hey, everyone, it's matt," he began, his voice warm, his accent a comforting sound. "i know i've been kinda MIA for a while, but i wanted to come back with something real, something from the heart."

he adjusted his hoodie, the camera catching the glint of his silver necklace. "lately, I've been thinking a lot about mental health, about how we all deal with our own shit, ya know? and i realized, dreams - not just the ones we have at night - but the ones we chase, the ones we hold onto, they can change everything."

he spoke candidly about how his perspective had shifted, how the night had become not just a time for rest but for discovery, even if he kept the specifics of heist to himself. "i used to think sleep was just sleep, but now, i see it as a reset, a chance to wake up with new ideas, new energy. it's like, if you can dream it, you can live it, right?"

matt shared small bits of wisdom he'd gleaned from his experiences, talking about the importance of listening to oneself, of acknowledging when you need a break, or when you need to push forward. "and mental health, it's not just about being sad or happy... it's about balance, it's about knowing when to reach out, when to take time for yourself, and when to just... dream."

he ended the video with a promise to be more present, not just in his dreams but in his life. "so, thanks for sticking with me... here's to dreaming bigger, living better, and maybe, just maybe, changing the world one dream at a time. peace out."

after stopping the recording, he felt a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of having shared a piece of his soul with his audience. he now could acknowledge totally how heist had influenced this new outlook, her presence, her warmth, even if only in dreams, had given him the courage to speak about these things.

as he prepared for bed, he reflected on the day, on the video, on the selfie that had sparked so much positive feedback. "she's changed me, hasn't she?" he mused to himself, looking at the selfie on his phone. "even if it's just in dreams, she's made me want to be better."

he felt a pang of longing, wishing he could share this day with her, tell her about the video, the comments, the joy she'd inadvertently brought into his life, but for now, he was content with the happiness he felt, the shadow of her influence very much part of his reality now.

ㅤ﹙ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ﹚ㅤּㅤㅤ˻ㅤaegan is typingㅤ˺ᅟ⠀ i appreciate the love shown through reposts, but let me be clear: my tales are not to be copied or adapted without a whisper to me first. my words are my treasure, and i guard them jealously.

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[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 70 ~ The Party

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 6.1k

In this chapter ~ Deanna’s home was flooded with guests, all drinking and laughing whilst Rose couldn’t seem to find a single ounce of joy in the event. The meaning totally pointless to her. After a blast from the past and many uncomfortable interactions, her patience slowly thins. Though at the end of the night, one final push causes her restraint to finally snap.

"Hello! Welcome!" Deanna's cheerful voice greeted us, "Thank you so much for coming. Oh, and I see you actually ventured out for the night, I'm glad you took my advice." she gestured to me.

I found myself mustering a fake, awkward laugh, trying to hold my tongue, "Yeah, yeah...where are the drinks?" I then asked bluntly.

Rick ducked his head down in an attempt to hide his smile while Deanna pointed around the corner toward the kitchen, "Oh, just right back there, please help yourself."

My smile faded instantly as I quickly brushed past her in attempt to avoid her for the rest of the night if I could. I had to turn and twist to get around the groups of bodies that were spread across the space, none of them which had a single clue what "keeping your eyes to yourself" meant. However, I tried not to let it bother me as the attention seemed constantly diverted toward us, considering we were the shiny new toys in the box.

To my surprise, there were a lot of different beverage choices, my eyes quickly spotting a new bottle of wine sitting out that hadn't been touched yet. I didn't hesitate much to reach for the glass to open before pouring a generous amount into one of the many plastic cups stocked in front of me. Helping myself just as Deanna commended.

"God bless." I muttered to myself, before taking a long swig of the liquid. At that point I didn't care if it was white or red, bitter or sweet. Just anything that would get me through this night even a fraction faster.

Though in the blink of an eye I felt someone already approaching me, looking up from my drink to see Tara coming over to stand beside me with a small smile on her face. "Hey, you made it."

I nodded, "Yeah," I hummed before taking a look at what she was wearing, "Wow, you look great."

"Thanks, so do you." she complimented, gesturing to my dress, before she slowly turned her attention back to the swarm of people in front of us. It was hard to ignore, considering the booming voices all around, making it all the more intimidating. "So, are you just as awkward to socialize as I am?" she muttered.

I took another drink before answering her, "Hm...no, I might be worse. I hate putting myself out there like that."

She held her fist out to me, "Pound it." she said with a nod, never taking her eyes off the crowd.

I wordlessly tapped our knuckles together as we continued to watch the people ahead talk and laugh hysterically with one another. As if this thing was perfectly natural for them, and it was clear our group stuck out like a sore thumb. I then began to wonder what their lives were like before all this, what their past said about them, how they occupied their time, or perhaps what their deepest darkest secret was. Leading to Tara and I taking that topic and running with it. The two of us had quite the imagination, bouncing ideas off each other back and forth as our drinks slowly dwindled down to nothing. And suddenly I felt the slightest bit lighter.

But we weren't alone for very long before Abraham and Rosita joined in, greeting us with the same weary expressions we wore before getting in on the conversation. Though I didn't fail to notice Abraham's wide eyed, almost fearful demeanor he had radiating off of him in waves, seeming to be in his own little world as he stared everything down. It almost made me laugh that this big, strong guy looked just about as scared as we did.

"You okay?" I asked while bumping my elbow with his.

He let out an unpleased noise, "I dunno about this." he murmured, still feeling a bit cautious and unsure.

My eyes followed his before panning down to the drink table not too far from where we stood, "You know, alcohol is always a good cure for tension. And there just so happens to be beer." I suggested.

Following my gaze, he was quick to nod his head, "Yeah. Imma try." he said before swiftly walking over to pick his poison.

The three of us laughed at his compliance, taking a moment to refill my own glass before looking at the girls left with me, "Now I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think I'm going to walk around. See who else I can find."

"Wow, look at you go." Rosita admired with a smile.

I raised my hands, "I know, it's a big step here. But I gotta prove Deanna wrong somehow, right?"

"You're braver than I am." Tara chimed in with a hand over her heart.

I laughed quietly, "Yeah, yeah I'm a huge inspiration." I spoke lightheartedly, "I'll see you guys later."

Parting from them seemed harder than I thought it would be, finding comfort in the people I knew well rather than trying to test the waters of the things I wasn't used to. My heart rate increased concerningly with the anxiety running through my veins, politely trying to excuse myself yet again to the people who were in my way. I didn't know if I was ready for this, to venture out to try to talk to someone new. But I also couldn't linger in the same corner for the entire night, no matter how much I desperately wanted to.

I looked around casually as I tried to spot any other recognizable face, curious to see who else had made it to the occasion. Though subconsciously, I think I was keeping an eye out for a certain man; a man who was currently out hunting instead of right here alongside me. I was starting to regret not pulling out the wife card when I had the chance, insisting he skip the outing just this once to save me from being alone. But now I had no other choice but to suck it up as I took another long drink of the wine I held, trying to ease whatever worries I still held.

But amongst all the things running through my mind, I managed to lock eyes with Maggie from across the cramped room, seeing her face practically light up at the sight of me. I smiled a little when I saw the look on her face, gesturing down to myself as if to silently say I had done what she asked. I had showed up for her to prove I was really trying. Her soft expression never faltered as she mouthed a small "thank you," to which I could read easily. My head ducked in a small nod in response, sending her a small wink before I slowly moved on from the full room, knowing we didn't need to exchange anything more for me to know she felt relieved upon seeing my face amongst the others.

Instead, I trailed off alone as I looked around at the paintings that were hung in the hallway I lingered in, my nails tapping absentmindedly against the cup in my hands, trying to distract myself for the time being. I noticed the artwork styles clashed almost, yet somehow went well together. Some were more abstract while the others remained plain and simple, the oil paint almost glimmering in the florescent light that flickered above my head. Though the more I looked, the more I recognized a certain piece that was nestled into a gold frame; "A Summer Afternoon" I believe it was called. It was beautiful, comforting...yet all too familiar.

My mother was a fan of Asher Brown Durand's work, the same man who originally created the pretty picture sitting before me. And now seeing this hung proudly in Deanna's home, it was almost like a sign. That, or the universe was having a time mocking me greatly. It amazed me how similar the two women were, disturbing almost if I allowed myself to think about it for too long. It was like a reflection of her was being paraded around me. The same taste in decor, the same fake and condescending personality, the same eyes that held something just a bit more when they glanced in my direction. Even parties like this, my mother craved to throw them whenever she got the chance.

She always wanted to show off; that was one of the things I hated most. As a true narcissist, she wanted others to see her perfect house and perfect car, right along with her perfect family. And if anything was even a sliver less than perfect, it was like terror rained from the sky. Every drop of anger she held would be released onto whoever was in her vicinity, though it was my dad who took most of the hits. But...he wasn't always home.

Suddenly, I shook myself from my thoughts, realizing I had been spacing out for much longer than I meant to. And I didn't really want to relive any fun childhood memories, not here anyway. If I could avoid it forever I would, but sometimes the past haunts and clings to you much more than you can predict. My eyes glanced down at the plastic cup I still held, noticing it was now somehow empty again. When the hell did that happen?

With a breath, I steeled myself to head back toward the kitchen, clearly in need of a refill as the liquor wasn't quite working fast enough. It felt like the house only grew louder with even more people crowding around, noticing some new arrivals that hadn't been there before. I almost couldn't believe that so many of them actually came for this party, some just showing up specifically to meet Rick. Although, I could see from across the room Judith was also very popular. I felt bad for the poor girl and could only imagine her having to deal with so many old people pinching her cheeks.

The heels I wore clicked against the tile of the kitchen while my gaze scanned for where I had left the bottle, but to my surprise, it was gone. I even brought myself to sneak a peek in their fridge just to make sure I wasn't losing my mind. Nowhere in sight. But after I took a quick scan of the other room, I spotted it across the way on a lone table, completely empty.

"Bastards." I muttered to myself with a shake of my head.

"Oh, there you are!"

I flinched in surprise at the well-known voice coming at me from my left, turning my head to see Deanna heading my way along with a white-haired man following close behind her. "Oh, excellent." I muttered under my breath.

"I was starting to wonder where you ran off to." she said as she gently tapped my arm.

Another fake smile stretched across my face almost painfully, subtly taking a step away from her. "Trust me, I've been here the whole time."

She nodded, "Well, I'm glad. Rose, I want you to meet my husband Reg, Reg this is Rose." she introduced as she gestured between us.

I reached out to shake the man's hand, noticing the warm expression he wore, "So, you're the girl who's still considering the job, huh? Well, let me tell you, I watched your tape from the interview, and I think you'll be just perfect for the role."

"Perfect, huh?" I asked.

"Oh, yes." he nodded, "You seem to carry yourself impressively well, very similar to Rick. I think you two along with Michonne will do just fine around here."

I nodded my head, genuinely appreciating his words of encouragement, "Well, thank you that's...that's really nice to hear." I said before shifting a little, gathering whatever dignity I had left for the words that were about to leave my mouth. "But actually, speaking of the...the position. I'm going to take it."

Her eyes widened slightly, and I watched a slow smile being brought to her face at my acceptance. "Really?" she asked, "Oh that's wonderful! I know you'll just do amazing out there, better than the other option I had lined up for you. This is what you were made to do."

My brow furrowed as her statement didn't sit well with me for a number of reasons, "Right...yeah. But what about the other option? What if I had said no?"

"But you said yes." she pointed out.

I blinked, "Yeah, I know. I'm just...curious, I guess."

"Well," she hummed, "Since we're a bit short on volunteers, I would've had you work with the kids"

My eyes widened, "Uh yeah, being a cop again is going to be a piece of cake." I said more confidently, watching as the both of them laughed at something I found completely serious.

"What's wrong with working with kids, you don't care for them?" he asked.

I shrugged, "I don't know. I've never...well, I've never wanted to work with them willingly let's say." I put a bit more kindly.

"Well, I see you get along with Carl..." Deanna trailed off, "And Judith as well."

"That's different." I assured.

"How?" she pressed.

I licked my lips in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll my eyes right in front of her as I tried desperately to remain civil. I could tell she was just trying to make conversation, but instead she was just prying for answers for something that was none of her business.

"Because they're family, they're very special to me."

"But they're still children." she said matter-of-factly, "And you take it upon yourself to go above and beyond for them, anyone can see that. So, why do you?"

My patience was thinning the more she questioned me, the longer her eyes studied me with that same look I couldn't seem to shake. "Because I made a promise to their mother." I answered bluntly.

The briefest of moments passed before her eyes grew with the realization that hit her, the expression so comical that I almost wished I had Glenn's camera to capture it. Reg was quick to give her a look in obvious disapproval, telling me this clearly wasn't the first time she had acted like this. And I took that as my cue to leave. "Excuse me." I said quietly as I walked past them and into the living room straight ahead.

In all honesty, my statement wasn't as deep as I made it seem. Yes, Lori's death took somewhat of a toll on all of us and it was very devastating, and I did vow to always keep her children safe. But I had moved past it enough to accept what had happened. I just wanted Deanna to stop pushing, to stop trying to squeeze every bit of information out of me that she could just because she was so damn nosy. But apparently with our track record, my bluntness only stuck for a moment before she was bouncing back yet again to get under my skin.

Amongst my escape away from the couple, I managed to spot Rick leaning against the wall across the room, a drink in his hand and a far-off look to his eyes. I slowly made my way over to join him, mirroring his movements as I too leaned back with a heavy exhale. He lifted his drink up to me as a silent offer and I took it gratefully without a second thought. The whiskey burned slightly as it made its way down my throat, but if I was being honest it was less painful than being here.

"Having fun?" he asked.

In response, I downed the rest of the drink that was in the glass and handed it back over to him, not needing to utter a single word. He chuckled and looked down at the empty cup, "That bad, huh?"

"I would rather be in hell. But then again this might be it, I don't know." I stated dryly as I glanced over at him as well, "How about you, you having fun?"

"No." he said simply, "Feel like the only thing keeping me here now is seeing Carl getting along just fine. But hell, maybe he doesn't even need me to stick around."

A small smile was brought to my face, "He does," I assured, "The extra support helps more than you think."

He hummed with a nod of his head, seeming to agree with me as a silence settled over us for a few lingering moments. Though it didn't last too long before I felt the need to tell someone what I had just agreed to. Maybe the liquor was working better than I thought. "I took the job."

His head snapped over to me, "Really?"

"Yep." I said, popping the p, "Looks like you're going to have to deal with me a whole lot more than you probably want to."

He scrunched up his face in faux annoyance, "God, help me." he muttered under his breath.

"Hey." I scoffed in slight offense, pushing his shoulder lightly.

He chuckled, "I'm kidding, and you know it. I'm actually real proud of you for putting yourself out there."

I nodded, "Yeah...me too." I admitted honestly, "And you know, I figure I have to do something around here to pass the time. Might as well be something I'm good at."

His eyes studied me as I spoke, before a feminine voice suddenly cut right through our conversation, both of our heads turning toward the noise. Though my heart dropped a little at what I saw, my luck always seeming to diminish right when I need it the most. 

"Hey, Rick!" Jessie called as she quickly made her way over to us, "This is my husband, Pete." she introduced, the man himself right by her side.

Oh, God help me.

Rick stepped forward to be polite, shaking the man's hand firmly whilst Pete muttered some friendly greeting that I couldn't quite make out. He looked cleaner and far more cheerful than the last time I saw him, but the smile he held couldn't have been more fake.

I lingered against the wall with my arms folded over my chest as I studied the couple subtly out of the corner of my eye, focusing more on Jessie's body language as she stood beside her husband. She seemed perfectly content, just watching the two men and their small interaction. But then I noticed something. Something small, something not everyone would be able to catch. Pete raised his hand ever so slightly to emphasize something, and in a blink of an eye, she very slightly flinched away from him. That was it.

"Rose." Rick's voice echoed through my thoughts. I blinked a few times as I noticed they all stared at me now, Rick motioning me over with his hand. I sighed quietly to myself as I slowly peeled myself from my spot to step over and dreadfully join the conversation.

"Hey, how's it going?" I greeted the both of them somewhat uncomfortably.

"Good." Jessie nodded with a smile, while Pete on the other hand seemed to be eyeing me up and down instead of answering. He wasn't checking me out by any means; but almost challenging me in a way.

"I was just thanking Rick here for being our constable, I heard around that you got offered the same job." the man suddenly spoke politely.

I raised an eyebrow. Really? We're playing this game?

Clearing my throat, I spoke just as fake, "Yeah, that's right. I actually just told Deanna I'm going to take it..."

"Well, I think that's great, I know you guys will fit in right along with the rest of us." Jessie said, smiling.

"Yeah...yeah, they will." Pete concluded.

I narrowed my eyes at him as my teeth clenched together involuntarily, noticing how his smile slowly started to disappear. The mask slipping from his face.

"So...you both met Rose already?" Rick questioned to break the tension.

The three of us all muttered somewhat of a quiet response with nods all around, the awkwardness making me want to squirm.

"But I would still love to get to know you a little better." Jessie kindly offered.

I nodded, "Yeah, for sure."

"Yeah, I think I would too." Pete immediately agreed, not taking his eyes off of me.

My gaze panned back over to him, seeing the way he suddenly became Mr. Yes Man in an instant like the flipping of a switch. It was starting to get on my nerves, the air growing thick because of his fakeness.

But I then forced a smile as I tilted my head at him, "Well, since I'll technically be a police officer again, I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you, Pete." I subtly warned.

His mask slipped again and his eye twitched ever so slightly. This time however, I could see the slightest bit of intimidation when he stared at me, and that only made my smile only grow.

Although he surprisingly shook my comment off quite quickly with a booming laugh, "Ah, she's a funny one." he said to Rick, slapping a hand on his shoulder, "Tell you what, let me get you a refill, and we'll talk about you coming into my office for a checkup, alright?" he suggested, taking the empty glass out of Rick's hand.

"Oh, I can get that." Jessie offered.

"I said I'll do it." he assured a little too defensively, causing her to flinch once more, a little more obvious than last time.

After she didn't dare to protest again, he stomped away with the same echoing footsteps, leaving the atmosphere somewhat uncomfortable again between the three of us. And it didn't surprise me she brushed it off with nothing more than a laugh, her shoulders falling now that he was completely out of sight. "Having fun?"

Rick glanced toward me before answering, "Yes, I am."

I turned my head away to roll my eyes. God, what a big fat liar.

"That was kind of a stupid question, right?" she cringed.

He chuckled a little before reassuring her, "No, not at all."

"Still," she continued, "This place has a pretty amazing view."

"Yeah?" Rick asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, take a look." she muttered, turning her head to look at the amount of people genuinely enjoying themselves. Having fun.

I followed her actions to see some of our family laughing together happily, definitely more carefree than when they first stepped inside. Some even seemed to be making conversation with the people from Alexandria. However, Abraham was still standing tall in the back drinking a beer, not talking to anyone as his eyes were still widely taking everything in. But he was an exception.

"Yeah...the view's pretty great." Rick stated quietly after a few beats.

Upon hearing his voice, I turned to follow his gaze, only to find he was staring directly at Jessie as she continued to obliviously look around the house. The married woman. No, no, the woman who was married to the guy with a receding hairline and a drinking problem. My eyes widened before I instantly smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow, " he muttered, his hand automatically raising to rub the sore spot, giving me a pointed look while Jessie's head turned back to see what had happened.

"Oh, yeah." I said quickly to distract her, "The view is great, I haven't really seen a lot of them enjoy themselves like that in a long time so...really, it's great." I then trailed off, "I'm sorry, will you just excuse us for one minute?" I apologized as I grasped Rick's collar harshly, dragging him away into a different corner of the room before the woman even had a chance to respond.

He kept trying to pry my hand off of him the whole way there, but I wasn't budging. How the hell did he think this was okay? I knew he was an idiot, but this to me was a whole new level.

The second we were out of earshot, I pushed him back into a secluded corner, beginning to whisper yell at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

His eyes narrowed, "Uh well, right now I have a sore head, that's what's wrong with me." he said matter-of-factly as he gestured to what I did.

I gave him a pointed look, "Be serious. What the hell was that? I saw you."

"Saw what?" he questioned.

"I saw you looking at her. The view's pretty great." I repeated, mocking his thick southern accent.

He scoffed, "Oh, come on."

"No Rick, this is serious. Not only are you looking at a married woman like that, you're looking at a woman who tied the knot with a sociopathic abuser. The idea of breaking up a marriage in the first place isn't all that great, but this-" I gestured before he interrupted me.

"Will you stop?" he said through gritted teeth, "I didn't even do anything."

I tilted my head, "Oh, so that was just something friendly?" I asked ironically, "You're telling me you'd look at me saying something like that?"

He stared at me blankly with his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought long and hard for what felt like forever, before finally muttering a small, "Yes..."

"Don't hurt yourself, tiger." I deadpanned.

He sighed heavily, ducking his head in defeat as clearly I saw right through him. "Rick, you can't do this."

"I'm not doing anything." he said defensively.

"You were trying to flirt with her."

"I was not trying to flirt with her."

I scoffed, "Oh please, goo goo eyes, honestly tell me what would've happened if I wasn't standing right there."

He stared at me for a moment before exhaling heavily, rubbing a hand across his forehead, "I don't know..." he admitted.

My expression softened as I saw how troubled he grew, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, "You need to be careful, okay? I'm saying this because I don't want you to get hurt, not because I don't...because I don't want you to have someone." I hesitated to say, knowing any kind of relationship after Lori had always been a sensitive subject in the past for him.

He could no longer meet my eyes, only muttering a small, "I know."

"Just please don't do anything stupid...please. For my sake, because...I'm going to go bald worrying about you."

His head slowly raised at my lighthearted comment, unable to stop the slight twitch of his lips, "Do you want me to go bald?" I asked semi-seriously.

A chuckle escaped him then, the mood a bit more lifted than it was before, "No...no, I don't want you to go bald. Not because of me at least."

"Thank you." I said sincerely, sending him a little wink.

He nodded before slowly bringing me into a hug, feeling the weight of his chin rest atop my head. He knew in the back of his mind that I only wanted the absolute best for him, and that's why I was doing this. Because I care too damn much. If anything happened to him that I could've prevented I would be devastated, and the bottom line was I wanted him to be happy. And we both knew that Jessie wasn't the answer. His pent up feelings for another certain someone weren't lost on me, but clearly that was a discussion for a different day

As we finally parted I felt myself sigh, "Well, I need another drink after that conversation."

He chuckled again, "Yeah, I think I'll join you."

"Nope," I stopped him as he tried to move forward, "You're still waiting on your beverage from Pete. Good luck with that."

"Oh yeah." he groaned, clearly already dreading that conversation. Then he raised a finger at me, "But we're talking later about how fucked up that whole interaction was between the two of you."

"Oh, we will don't worry. I'm already planning to kill him." I said sarcastically as I backed away from him, slowly turning to head toward the kitchen I was becoming a little too comfortable with.

The atmosphere was more peaceful there as I looked for another drink, though nothing seemed appealing with what was left sitting in front of me. As the night grew later, the pickings were slim, causing me to settle with a beer that was surely lukewarm at this point. I popped the top off easily and took a swig out of it, slightly cringing at the bitter taste it left in my mouth.

I never fully understood when Daryl said he missed beer from before the outbreak, the drink of choice just never sat right with me, yet he clearly loved it. But it was better than nothing. I just hoped he would arrive back from outside the gates and get his ass over here soon because I didn't know how much longer I could stand to be in here. It had already felt like the longest night of my life, yet I had barely been here for an hour and a half. Though it felt much longer than that.

But for now, I was just enjoying the somewhat silence in the kitchen alone, with my eyes shut and my head tilted back.

"Hey." a voice said from right beside me.

Goddamnit.

I peeked one eye open to see it was a man I didn't recognize standing a few inches from me, his own beer in hand and a small smile on his face. He seemed harmless enough except for the fact that he was wearing khakis.

"Hey." I greeted politely in return before closing my eyes once more. I was hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone, but then again men had a hard time reading social queues such as that. Or they just didn't care at all.

"I'm Spencer." he spoke again, causing me to open my eyes fully to see he was now holding his hand out for me to shake. So much for some quiet.

"Rose," I managed to say as I gently gave his hand a squeeze before pulling away, "You're Deanna's son."

He looked down to the ground bashfully and laughed a little to himself, "Ah yeah, yeah I am. How did you know?"

"Well, she's mentioned you once while I was around. And judging by the size of the community, I'm guessing there isn't more than one Spencer."

He nodded, "Yeah, fair enough." He took a swig of his drink, swallowing loudly. "So, are you enjoying the party?"

Okay, time for me to be the big fat liar.

"Uh, yeah it's great." I muttered, not meeting his gaze as I took a sip of my own.

He scoffed lightly, "Alright, that's a lie if I've ever heard one."

"Yeah, alright...this just isn't really my thing. I'm not much of a people person."

"Well, I think you're doing pretty well so far." he said with a different tone to his voice, shooting me a small smirk.

What the fuck was that?

I only nodded and offered him a thin-lipped smile before looking back ahead of me, trying to shut the conversation down. But he didn't get the hint...again.

"You settling in nicely?"

A hum of slight annoyance left me as I turned my attention to face him again, still trying to be as nice as I was able, "Mhm...yeah. It's still a big adjustment that none of us are really used to yet, but I think we'll get there."

He shook his head, "Man, I can't even imagine. Having to completely switch up what you're used to, I mean..." his voice trailed off.

I watched as a few seconds of silence passed, where his eyes were no longer locked with my own, but now traveling freely down my body. Although this was far different from Pete's gaze I was receiving earlier, I still hated it just the same. Maybe even more.

"My eyes are up here." I reminded, and he immediately looked back up with a sheepish smile and reddened cheeks.

"Sorry," he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck, "You just look really great in that dress and uh...I guess I was just nervous to come over and talk to you. Now I'm just making myself look like an idiot."

Well, it didn't take a whole lot of effort to do that, that's for sure. I hummed a response while subtly shifting a little further from his frame, looking anywhere in the room but him. As if I was planning my sudden escape so I wouldn't have to stand here and listen to him for another minute. Though running away in heels wouldn't work out too well as I would probably just end up falling on my ass in front of him. God, my feet were killing me in these shoes.

"So, I was thinking," he opened his mouth again, only inching closer to me, "Maybe we could have dinner sometime? I would really like to get to know you better. Maybe do a redo on this whole introduction thing."

My eyes widened in disbelief. This mother fucker couldn't take a hint to save his life. "No, I'm good." I said a bit bluntly,

He chuckled, "Aw, come on. Why not? I could be great company if you'd let me."

"Well, even if I pretended to believe you, I don't think my husband would like that very much. And...I don't think I would like it much either."

His whole charming demeanor suddenly faded at just the briefest mention of my commitment to someone else, "Wait, wait, you're married?" I wordlessly held up my left hand and showed the very obvious wedding ring on my finger. "No shit." he muttered with a huff, "Well, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

"Yeah, me too." I mumbled.

A beat of uncomfortable silence passed as he took another long sip of his drink, trying to find the words after his ego was clearly just bruised. "Well, who's the lucky guy?" he asked, a certain bitterness to his tone.

"Daryl Dixon."

He looked lost, shaking his head slightly as if he didn't know who the hell I was talking about, "Longer brown hair, blue eyes, leather vest, crossbow." I described.

"Ohhh," he drug out with a point of his finger, "Yeah, I've seen him around a few times, but...you're telling me you're married to that guy?"

I blinked, "...Yes?"

He chuckled as if he amused himself, "Wow."

"Hey, I didn't ask for your approval."

"No, no, I'm just saying out of everyone, you chose to marry that redneck?" he asked in disbelief.

"Watch it." I said lowly.

He raised his hands in surrender, "All I'm saying is you could do a lot better. Maybe raise your standards a bit sweetheart."

Oh, my standards were plenty high. He just couldn't seem to see them because of his five-foot seven ass. The last thing I wanted here was to get on Deanna's bad side for saying something I'd regret later to her own son. But I just couldn't help it. His smile was just too cocky and the pet name he called me sounded far too creepy for me to just walk away and let it go. So, instead of saying something. I let my actions speak instead.

Before my brain could even process what I was doing, his head and shirt were completely drenched in beer and my bottle was suddenly looking very empty. His mouth dropped at my actions, but my smile couldn't get any wider seeing I managed to tear down the last of his confidence.

"So, a little piece of advice," I said, setting the bottle down on the counter with a slam, "Next time you feel like being a prick, maybe choose your words a little more carefully and remember who the hell you're talking to."

He opened his mouth to reply, but I brushed past him without even giving him the chance, but not before turning around once more to say one last thing, "Oh, and uh..." I paused, eyeing him up and down, "You got a little something right here sweetheart." I gestured to my own head and smiled slightly at him standing there soaking wet.

Leaving him dumbfounded, I walked away and headed straight for the front door. At this point I couldn't even bring myself to care that Daryl hadn't shown up, I just wanted to be out of this damn house and away from all these people. I was starting to feel claustrophobic. My feet were moving so fast to get out of there that I kept accidentally bumping into strangers and muttering small apologies along the way, not being able to make it outside fast enough.

And right as I was about to reach the front door, I completely body slammed into someone who got in the way at the wrong time. "Shit, I am so sorry." I said as I looked up at the victim.

Abraham stood there with wide eyes, "You're alright." he reassured, steadying my wobbly figure as I fought to keep my balance, "You okay there, Missy?"

I shook my head, feeling a little relieved it was someone I knew, "Yeah, I'm fine I just gotta get out of here." I said as I reached for the door handle.

"Hey, woah, woah." he said, grabbing back onto my arm and looking at me for only a split second before his gaze hardened, "Who do I gotta punch?"

I laughed lightly, "No one. Seriously, I'm okay."

"You sure?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure. I just want to go home, get out of here...get these damn heels off."

He smiled in understanding, "Alright. But you let me know if you change your mind."

"I will," I promised, "Drink another beer for me." I said as I squeezed his arm lightly, before turning towards the door and walking into the darkness.

In the past two years now of the world being like this, full of walkers, heartbreak, and just plain shit, I have never wanted to just collapse and go to sleep like I do right now. Maybe it was the alcohol that made me this tired, maybe I was being dramatic but I felt like I had been through the wringer. My feet hurt, I got hit on by an asshole and was almost threatened by another, and I really wanted pizza for some reason. All because I went to a stupid party that I didn't even want to go to in the first place. Welcome to Alexandria ladies and gentlemen.

~ Thanks for reading! (This might be one of my favorite chapters I've written yet! I loved the party in Alexandria and I've been itching to put this chapter out:))

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[paper--moons]

so excited asks are open!!! idk if you remember but i sent an ask a while ago about overwatch, and was wondering if you could do regressor hanzo hcs, maybe with cg cassidy or even genji?? i can’t find any overwatch agere content and it’s so sad :( tysm i love your writing!!!!

I do indeed recall your original ask, yes!

This was definitely something of a special one for me to do, as the game holds some nostalgia for me—when the original Overwatch came out I was fresh out of high school and had a lot to figure out (I still do!) about what I wanted out of life. During this period I was able to make some friends through the game, and I think having a silly little competitive something to do was good for me as I've never been a very competitive person. So to have something relatively low stakes but engaging while I was figuring out some big things was nice, though I do understand some issues have arisen with the franchise in later years.

Having said that, you've given me one of my mains! If I wasn't playing D.Va then I was playing as Hanzo, and I like to think I did fairly well haha. So yes, big comfort character! While I wish there was more lore to the series and by extension its characters, there's enough there to work with imo (as things like character design, voice lines, and mechanics themselves provide a glimpse into said character). This one had me dusting off some old headcanons and putting a fresh spin on them, since I was already into agere even at that time! You're absolutely correct that there is very little agere fanworks for these characters because I was starving for it back then.

Anyhow! The headcanons can be read over here. Hope you enjoy them, and thanks so much for the request! 🌙

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of my favorite things about getting older is that I’m just more sure and more confident in taking control in social situations and making other people feel at ease. I really love it!

[grimmweepers]

so i’m both the most secure and insecure person in the world and i was chilling by the pool w no make up on when suddenly this lovely lady said i looked really pretty 😭

[gaytranszoro]

sorry okay im rewatching whole cake w a friend and got obsessed with the vinsmokes this time around okay. sorry. however i am a liker of themes and motifs and doomed characters. sorrey.

[harteofthehart-ayyy]

//okay while I’m at work, and this is a genuine question, what do you guys find unique about how I write characters? I can explain my writing process or why things are written how they are if you want—I’m just always very flattered (+spatk +confusion) and want to analyze my own writing, which is hard when it’s my own writing. Sad…! (Because I don’t know what I’m doing in terms of technique. I want to know terms and understand WHAT I’m doing the same way I like getting examined by doctors. I like knowing why things are how they are!)

also there’s more in the tags now oops. really really hope this doesn’t come off as annoying sorryyyy I’m apologizing preemptively and then keeping any explanations as screenshots to cherish forever

[age-of-moonknight]

Timeless (Vol. 3/2023), #1.

Writers: Jackson Lanzing and Collin Kelly; Penciler and Inker: Juann Cabal; Colorist: Edgar Delgado; Letterer: Travis Lantham

[digitaldiseas3]

re: my last tag on my last post

[a-concert-just-for-me]

People commenting stuff like “This was so disturbing I had to skip through some of it 😬😬😬 good job tho” on my fics crack me up. My dudes it’s labeled ‘dead dove’ and has a mile long trigger tag list for a reason 😅

[mochela]

the body i own feels is different from the body i am