#this isn't me saying that loving yourself is bad either. just that i don't agree that that is the WHOLE of therapy...

[d3vilcvntz]

local slutboy taken a liking to you ?!?

top male reader x bottom character

you hated yourself for even agreeing with your friends to go into a random town just to get drunk. it will be fun they said, but now you're just dying to go home and lay down on your comfy soft bed. unfortunately for you, you can't just ditch your friends and go home because you came here with their car,no taxi around here either so you're just stuck here, bored as hell. maybe a smoke break will clear your mind a little

so here you are, standing in a random dark alleyway to smoke. well, that's your plan until a random person approached you. he's wearing a hoodie that's definitely too big for him with a face mask "mind giving me some?" he suddenly asked, walking closer to you

you stared at him for a sec before turning away "nah, this shit expensive man. rather not give it to random guy" you replied, looking at him again. he just chuckled at your response "i've never seen your face here before. you're not from here im guessing?" he asked, which you answered with a simple nod, "it's dangerous to wonder around here all alone you know. these people aren't really friendly" he said, smiling at you

"...what do you want from me ?" you responded to him quite harshly, clearly annoyed that someone disturb your peace. "nothing, i just want you" he replied almost instantly. you just looked at him like he's crazy and awkwardly laughed, brushing it off as a joke before he spoke again, "im a sex worker, im quite popular around here. you're lucky that im offering my service to you" he said, getting uncomfortably closer to you

"I'll pass, don't carry cash with me" you responded, turning around to walk away until he grabbed your arm and push you against the wall

"don't worry. i won't charge you much. how about.... you give me the pack of cigarettes and i let you hit? a good deal isn't it ?" you looked at him once again, "tempting isn't it? don't be scared now, i promise that im better than any women you've ever slept with" he whispered to your ear

slowly pulling your pants and underwear down, revealing your half-hard cock. "oh, look! someone's already excited even though he was acting all tough before" he teased you,slightly pushing his mask up so he can kiss the tip of your cock before swallowing it whole. getting head from a stranger in a dark alleyway is not your plan but you are not complaining at this point. i mean, he's not that bad looking now that you can kinda see half of his face, he's quite pretty actually.

you'll definitely regret this later but oh well, you've been pent up after all, being single and shit for so long. before you can even say anything, "I'll give you a tease" he said with a smile, before kneeling down and tugged on your pants "i can tell that you're big even from far" rubbing your clothed cock while looking up at you

he looks up to you before pushing your cock all the way to his throat. he's practically sucking your cock like it's the best meal he ever had "you're getting close?" he asked, stroking your cock

he grabbed your hand to feel his body "do you like it? I've never show my body to anyone else you know" he said, giving you a little smile "anyways, lets get into the good part" he continued, turning around, spreading his cheeks apart, showing you his twitching pink hole

you came all over his mouth and mask after a few minutes of throatfucking him "woah.... it's so thick, you must been pent up this whole time" he said, putting his mask back on properly before standing up again "wanna try my hole next ? all of my customers love it" he teased, pulling his own pants down, revealing that he's wearing nothing under it with his own cock leaking precum "hoodie stays on though, but I'll give you a little teaser" he said, giving you a smile before lifting up his hoodie revealing his nipples piercings

you pushed your cock inside him "you're so big" he moaned. slowly moving your hips to let him adjust to your cock before picking up the pace. you thrust into so eagerly "looks like you like it too" he teased, which made you pick up the pace

he's slowly losing his grip on the wall, knees shaking from your hard thrusts "shit, i can't hold myself up anymore" he said, trying to keep himself up. you pulled out your cock "huh? why did you-" you turned him around to face you before lifting him up "oh, missionary huh? i like it" he whispered to your ear seductively

you pushed your cock all the way in him which caught him off guard, his moans became high pitched and louder than before. his hands grips tightly on your shirt, "shit..the way your cum smells on my mask is so...intoxicating. and your cock too.. fuck, it's so deep"

you know that you're close when you can feel your lower abdomen grows hot, wanting to release all of your cum into him. he's getting close too, with the way he can't even speak any coherent sentences and his eyes are rolled back "please cum inside me, shit.. i need you to cum deep inside of me" you slammed your cock inside him one last time, releasing your cum as he came right after

you let him down and clean yourself up and so does he "i really wish that you'd become my regular now. nobody ever fucks me that good" he said, pulling his pants up "hey, put your number in my phone. maybe we can meet up and fuck in my dorm later on" he continued, handing his phone to you.

you gave him your number and passed it back to him "thanks sweetheart" he replied, giving you a wink. you looked at your watch and realise it's quite late, your friends might be looking for you at this point. don't want to make them suspect anything, "i need to go now, it's great meeting you..." you told him, which he replied with a smile. as he turned around to walk away, you suddenly remembered something and grabbed his arm. surprised, he looks at you and smiled "oh! are you not satisfied with one round?" he teased you before you quickly shoved the cigarettes pack into his hand "here, as we promise" you told him before walking away, leaving him standing there

he watched as you walked away, wanting to pull on your arm and tell you to stay. but he can't, he shouldn't do it. maybe he'll contact you again soon, he's taken a liking to you now ♡

[uncanny-tranny]

I just heard this ad that says therapy is just "learning how to love yourself," and quite honestly, I disagree with that sentiment. I think it puts uneeded pressure on people to "love themselves."

I don't think you need to love yourself to benefit from therapy, and therapy shouldn't just be "learning to love yourself." It certainly is beneficial for some people to learn skills that we call self-love, like setting boundaries, hygiene that works for you, eating full and balanced meals that you enjoy, for instance, but that doesn't need to include this air of being in love with yourself.

I think therapy is about learning how to live with yourself. You don't have to love your flatmates (for example), but you often respect them as people. So, you'll clean up after yourself, and you'll communicate with them, and you'll even make small talk with them. That's kind of how I see therapy. You don't have to love yourself, but you often need to learn how to respect yourself, and I think those are slightly different things.

[hellofears]

having issues with men, the associations the instant distrust, which i dont like i dont want it i want things to be different, just all of it so much just the dynamic i have the relationship all of it the way the world is atleast online and having a younger brother. I wouldn't trade him for the world, I try and talk to him where I can and will continue to do so i adore him but i fear. i believe in him i want joy for him. I fear that his peers will feed him fckn brainrot and it scares me. not even just that he'll fall into that thinking that his fuckn upstanding that his unwillingness to follow ppl will hurt him. crazy shit at schools, like why tf r ppl dying kids young teens killing eaachother with knives? ??I don't want to loose him i don't want to see him loose who he is and the heart that he has i don't and i hope he rises above it all and will continue to. i feel like im stating what he has to be or smth but all i could ask for is his wellbeing, respect, humanity, that he treats himself well know what he deserves and has some sense of self, some gravity. I feel like shit sometimes for this aspect that i'm concerned that i just idk, i dont like the whole 'dont disappoint me' thing he owes nothing to me other than basic human decency and respect, hes a reason why i live but to i just that intrusive thought of there is no different the hell u think of is real about men to someone i hold so fckn dear to in a way show me their fckn fuckery its idk, like another? it'd hurt me, it'd hurt me bad.

i've never understood men or boys, amab, who go on about their connection or like protectiveness of their sisters of their mother but treat other women like shit like their familiars aren't women? you don't want to fuck them so its different? what is it like just whats the difference why does it have to pertain to you for you to care? do you care or do you see them as an extension? is it a personality trait for you? a 'lover boy' thing? a signal to women, women u imagine u want and is going to be 'ur woman' but u cant even like visualize them in a way that doesnt pertain to your sexual interests? a signal so people can say oh he loves his mother so hes good to go and prime? a 'mummys boy' ? are they not real women just because u dont feel that sort of way? talking about women that way with your friends? do i have to bring up the fact those same people could date your sister etc for you to care? those people could make the kids that surround your kids, your daughter. idk.

its like okay u want sex so u respect them less? did no one hear dont bite the hand that feeds you? what the fuck is going on. you cant fuck them so its all good? the demeaning-ness? lack of gravity, venom is just rapid, vapid

[thegnomelord]

Demon simon who gets so damn angry when he finds out hunter had lover/crush

Why he so damn mad??? He can't stand him! And it bothers him so much

Then you have hunter who connect dots later and is howling from how funny situation is his *husband* is lil jelouse from his ex / celebrity crush that he kept clinging into him in almost painful grip for weeks

Oooh I love this idea! Lol jealous Simon is such a fun concept but I changed it a bit lol

CW NSFW: jealous demon ghost, groping at the end.

Imagine you, good hunter, in the search of a solution for your. . . problem. . . end up having to meet your Ex. Darek isn't a bad man, he's merely a merchant for all things dark and demented, or so he likes to say whenever the inquisitors come knocking on his door for devil worship. And Darek isn't a bad looking man either, he's got pretty light brown eyes and blonde hair down to his shoulders. He's a charmer who's fooled many a fey into giving their hearts with just his looks and honeyed words.

How you got together is a story echoed by many hunters; He needed some monster parts. You needed some weapons. The sex was just a nice way to soothe over any hiccups in your business relationship and give you both a way to release stress. There was never any feelings, no strings tying you together, just mindless bliss and mind-blowing sex.

Ghost hates him.

If you didn't need Darek, Ghost would already be using his skull as a cup. It wouldn't even take much to take him to the depths bellow, the man reeks of so much sin that the only question on the event of his death would be: which circle would want him the least?

Even when he's invisible, you can still feel Ghost glare at you with the intensity of the nine hells from the moment Darek leans in to brush his lips against yours. It doesn't lessen even a degree when you push Darek away, your mind too wrapped up with thoughts and the possibility of being killed like a common cultist to even think about dealing with Darek's fuck boy behavior.

"Since when did you become such a bore like the other hunters?" Darek huffs, but he's not too hung up about your rejection. The man has a revolving door of lovers, most of them definitely prettier and softer than you.

"Got a slight problem." You say as you take off your glove. An inch of space around your ring finger is burned, the flesh scarred over and blackened so it looks like a wedding ring.

You have to admit, as far as devil worshippers go, Ghost's particular cult was dumb as shit. Why they thought that burning a ring on your finger would somehow make this 'marriage' more satanic is beyond you.

Darek takes your hand, thumb brushing against the scarred flesh. Ghost has never wanted to murder some human more. "Ah, the joys of matrimony." Darek grins, "Don't tell me you already want to leave the poor bride?"

"Groom." You say quickly, tone flat, and you're unsure why you feel the need to correct him when you're talking about a demon. "And yes. I need a way to dissolve this union before some other hunter takes my head."

"Tisk tish, and here I thought you would be more considerate for others." Darek chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and nibbling on your knuckle, a lustful look in his eyes. He does that on purpose, both of you are able to smell the sharp scent of brimstone as Ghost looms behind you, invisible but not unnoticed.

Darek lets go of your hand, starting to go over some old books that he has. They're little help in the grand scheme of things, but you're not in a position to be a chooser, so you agree to buy them.

"Now then, how will you pay?" Darek asks, resting his head in his hand. "You know, it's been so long since we both saw each other. I would be willing to give you a discount if you gave me an hour of your time." He purrs.

You consider it for a moment. It would be nice to let off some steam, especially as you haven't exactly had time to relieve yourself with Ghost always by your side.

And all Ghost can think is: the fucking audacity. He doesn't care if you and Darek have history you are his human, his 'bride', his to touch.

You feel Ghost growl. The 'ring' on your finger vibrates, heat flaring up your entire arm and it feels like a lightning jin is stuck inside your chest. It feels nice- no, it must just be the binding making you think that you're wanted just because a demon is throwing a hissy fit.

"Maybe next time." You still say despite yourself, paying in cash and leaving with Darek telling you to call him if you get bored of the married life.

No sooner are you on the street does an unseen force pull you into a dark alley. Claws, good for rending flesh from bone and not much else, gently scrape down your front before they curl around your belt and pull you close against a body bigger and hotter than yours. Ghost's tail curls around your thigh and on instinct you clench your thighs to trap it, but the crushing force behind it is lessened by the damned curse around your finger (The fact you don't try to punch him is one you will worry about later).

You look up, expecting to snarl at the same skull faced demon you've unfortunately been married to. Only for your mouth to fall to the floor when you look at. . . a man. A handsome man, in the rugged way other hunters are handsome; Blond cropped hair, short like a soldier's and your fingers twitch to scratch his scalp. Firm and strong muscles, hard won just like yours. Five o'clock shadow that many hunters sport when you forget to shave. Dark brown eyes that look very nice when mixed with Darek's hardened feature — wait a moment. . .

He looks like Darek! More precisely a hunter version of him, the version you aways thought about whenever you two would fuck. The only way you can tell it's Ghost is by the Hell reflected in the blacks of his eyes.

"Ghost what the fuck?" Is the only thing you can come up with, your eyes the size of dinner plates.

Ghost just grunts, pushing his weight until you're stuck against the wall. "What do you see in it?" He demands.

"What?" You ask, pressing your hands to his chest and trying to push him away, but your strength evaporates and all your wayward hands do is slide along his muscular abdomen.

His tail moves despite the tensing of your thighs, pressing against your groin. Mild panic builds in your brain as the spines along his tail are sharp enough to tear flesh, but all that violent potential is dampened by the marriage. Instead of tearing your balls off, those spines flatten down, creating a strange sensation against your groin that, unfortunately, has your cock chubbing up.

"What. Do. You. See. In. It?" Ghost repeats himself, each word hissed through semi-human teeth, fangs bared at you.

"Fuck Ghost!" You growl, and the best you can do is grope him in retaliation. Some part of you wants to blame the binding for your passiveness, another knows that the binding would not stop you if you didn't want this.

"Why debase yourself with that mortal?" He asks, his tone changing. He may be a demon of wrath, but he's no stranger to lust. His clawed fingers slide down, not even needing the binding to curb his strength as he cups your groin gently but firmly. "What do you get from it that you can't get from m- from someone else?"

Neither of you mention his slip up, you especially as the firm sensation against your clothed cock has you panting like a dog.

"Wh- what? Je-jealous ar-hm! you?" You manage to say, biting your lip to keep yourself from making a sound a hunter should Not make. (A hunter also shouldn't be groped by a demon but here you are.)

Ghost laughs, sharp and dark. "Absolutely not." His tail curls more around your leg, the size of it making you unconsciously spread them so you're not crushing it. "I am Not jealous of a meager mortal." He growls, his hand continuing to gently grope you, the other hand fiddling with your belt. . .

[ackermai07]

hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^

i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ

you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰

girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader

𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!

Don't repost!

The one thing we all agree on.

He'll cook for you.

No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.

He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.

This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.

You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:

"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"

"Shut up, I already know."

And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.

He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.

Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.

Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.

He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.

He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.

"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."

Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.

He always brings snacks for you at school.

At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.

(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)

When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.

He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.

His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.

(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)

Did I mention he's your guard dog?

Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.

He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.

He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.

Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).

This boy is the epitome of sweetness.

He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.

One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.

Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.

He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.

If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:

"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."

He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.

Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.

Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.

(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)

Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.

He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.

He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.

He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.

He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.

He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.

No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.

"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."

He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.

Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.

This guy is literally like a character from books.

He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.

He buys you anything you want, no matter what.

Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.

He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.

For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.

Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.

He loves seeing you shy and flustered.

He also buys you books, a lot of them.

The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.

Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.

"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"

"If my girl desires something, she gets it."

(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)

He lets you do anything to him literally.

Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.

Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"

(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)

This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.

And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.

He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.

(He's as pale as hell.)

He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.

Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.

So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.

He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.

(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)

He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.

You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.

"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."

(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)

One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.

He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.

Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.

(I think this is an Asian thing...)

This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.

He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.

He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his

(he has a special scent so..)

(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)

I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[itsgrimeytime]

he's such a pretty liar || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz @deadgirlrin

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: 8 + 2

Inspiration: my boy by Billie Eilish

Summary: You and Rick had gotten along at some point, at the farm and prison. You were friends even. Until the Governor killed Hershel, which you believed to be perfectly preventable. Because of his inaction then, you'd gotten a bitter taste in your mouth at the thought of him and eventually, he started to reciprocate the behavior. But as time passes, and you experience more and more with him, is it really hate that you feel?

TWs: enemies to lovers (like fr though), yelling, mentions of death (Shane, Lori, Beth, and Hershel), mention of the Claimers scene, cursing, anger, nosebleed, bruising, love confessions, injuries, blood, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: This is based on Carl being mad at Rick after the prison. Rick do be stressed out, and he do be saying some terrible stuff, but like so are you. This gif is so 🫣💞🤭💞🤪. Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

You weren't a bad person, and in that regard, you wouldn't say Rick was either. Honestly, you respected him as a leader -you just didn't agree with all his choices. That's where it all started, after all, isn't it?

You'd seen what a wrong choice could do, you'd watched Hershel die right in front of your eyes. You'd seen it all.

And, sure, maybe you were grieving a little but you still largely disagreed with Rick's actions on the matter. It was preventable.

It started there, and only really got worse. It was like once you identified one flaw, suddenly you were second-guessing his every move. The two of you couldn't be in a room without arguing, couldn't be put on shifts together, nothing. Daryl, for one, wouldn't let you be alone together at all. And if it wasn't him, it was someone else.

"Rick, seriously," you spoke once, almost sternly, "-that can't be your decision."

"Why?" he responded -pointed and short, "-Ya got a better idea? Go right fuckin' ahead."

You knew that since the prison, Rick had been strung thin. You knew that he had been harder on himself than you could ever be about Hershel. But, you still were angry. Sometimes, sometimes it felt like maybe he was just a target for everything that you'd been through. And you were trying to change your behavior, change your ways.

You'd known him for so long, and you were going to be stuck with him. The group, even though the two of you weren't on the best terms, was like family to you.

And then, it started getting personal.

This argument stemmed from something small, trivial, you can't even remember it now. Maybe a decision on a run? You can't-

"Ya act like ya ain't made mistakes of your own," he added, "-all high and damn mighty-"

"When did I say that?" You interrupted, more cold than anything, "-You're putting words in my mouth, Grimes."

"-Because I seem to remember ya tellin' me about your family," he continued, not even pausing to listen to you.

You stilled in place.

"Rick," you warned (voice slightly shaking), "-don't... don't go there."

Your family. At the beginning of all this, you'd froze -scared. Watched one of them get bitten, and then everyone just followed after -not willing to grieve. You regretted not being quicker, not being more aware, but you weren't used to it. You weren't-

"Ya fucked up," Rick continued, as if he wasn't bringing up what he was, "-We all do, why do you-"

"No, no," you shook your head, voice shaking, "-Rick, that is not fair. You can't bring up my family-"

You had hated yourself for that, hated yourself. Still did. You would never forgive yourself for not saving them, even though you really didn't have an idea how to then, you should have-

God, he was bringing this up? Really?

"-over a goddamn run strategy."

"Well, you pick apart every damn thing I do," he retorted, "-'Thought I'd do the same for once."

"Oh, fuck you, Rick," you seethed, tears burning the backs of your eyes, "-you want me to poke at your wounds? Talk about who you could've saved?"

He pursed his lips, and you saw something flash through his eyes (they were trailing the now shake of your hands) that looked a little like regret. Like maybe he was understanding what he said. You felt like your skin was on fire.

"Do you want me to start from the beginning?" You tsked, a fire burning in your chest, "-Shane? Or maybe Lori? Beth? Hershel-"

"Stop," he stated, quieter than before.

"-Why, Rick?" you hissed, and you felt the tears now, "-Is this not what we're talking about? Oh, do you not want me to bring that up? Over a run?"

"I get it," he spoke, softer, and something in you sharpened, "-I get it, Y/N."

"Do you?" you responded, frustrated and just... angry, "-Do you, Rick?"

"I shouldn't 'ave-"

"Can it," you interrupted -short, "-Let's just get the fucking supplies and go."

Rick frowned, blue eyes far more emotive (all you could see was regret and pity), "Y/N, I didn't-"

"You didn't what?" You countered, and your voice was cracking, "-You didn't mean to bring up the fact that I watched my family die, right in front of me? Do you think that I don't hate myself every day for not doing anything then?"

Rick didn't say a word.

"-Hate to break it to you, sheriff, but I fucking do."

"Y/N..." he trailed off, blue eyes much calmer, the rage from before dissipating out of his voice.

"No, just-" you cleared your throat, wiping mindlessly at your frustratingly red eyes, "-Let's get this shit done and leave."

From then on, it had been much deeper.

You couldn't stand him, you hadn't been alone with him since. He made your skin crawl and your mind flare up in anger, and sometimes, just sometimes, it would shake your respect for him. Because you did have some, you probably wouldn't even be here, if you didn't.

The funny thing about it all was that you were close to Carl, very close to him. At the prison, after Lori's death, you'd nearly been inseparable. It was kind of like a parent relationship, but at the same time a little like a friend. It made you want to reconcile sometimes, but all you and Rick did was clash.

So much that you started to wonder what a normal conversation was like with him.

And then, you had the run-in with the Claimers.

God, what they'd threatened to do to Carl? You personally would've snapped their spine yourself if you had the chance. But what Rick had done? You couldn't imagine it yourself.

But you knew that he did what he had to. And some part of you wanted to tell him that, despite... despite all of your problems, you knew he needed it.

It was late that night when you decided to talk to him. It was just the two of you awake. You, on purpose, and you just knew Rick would be. Doing that was probably still rattling through his skull, he probably couldn't even close his eyes without-

Your steps were slow and careful, trying not to startle him -he just seemed to be staring. Endlessly staring, and just pacing. Despite it all, you felt something in your chest swirl with worry.

"Rick?" you spoke, gently. Even still, you saw his whole body tense up.

"Please," he muttered, voice low and gravelly -blue eyes heavy on you, "-I don't need your shit right now. I kno' 'at I did somethin' bad, really damn bad. But I just can't deal wit' ya-"

"No, Rick," you interrupted, "-that's not why I'm... That's not what I want to say."

"What do ya want to say, then?"

"You made the right decision," you responded, tone sturdy and unmoving, "-you... you did what you had to."

Rick stilled, something flickering through his face -a flutter of emotions.

"I know, we aren't on the best terms, but-" you rolled your lip around your teeth, "-you're not a monster, Rick."

The silence was loud then, as his blue eyes skimmed over you -carefully. Maybe like he was seeing a new you, or maybe an old one he'd forgotten about. One you'd forgotten about.

"Trust me, I know it feels like it," you added (mind flashing with what you'd done over the years), "-but you did what you had to. You saved your son, and that's all that matters."

He didn't say anything for a moment, trying to process your words. And if you really looked, you might've seen his eyes fogging up a little and the slight drop of tension in his shoulders. A little like he was waiting for someone to tell him that.

And then, he replied, "Thank ya."

You pursed your lips a moment, fidgeting with your hands. You weren't sure what else to say. This was all so new. With a succinct nod, you moved to spin on your heel and lay down for the night.

"Wait," he called, and you turned back to him -eyes inquisitive.

There was a beat.

"-'At day, on the run," he continued, slow and regretful, "-I'm... I'm sorry. I never should 'ave said somethin' like 'at. I never should 'ave brought it up at all. 'Wasn't right of me to."

"Thanks, Rick," you responded, brief but genuine, grateful. You could tell he understood.

Before you could fully turn around though, he added -softer, with something you couldn't quite name, "Goodnight, Y/N."

There was a pleasant hum in your mind at the way he said your name, but you shoved it away. You'd locked all of that far away, a long time ago.

"Night, Grimes," you chimed back, lighter in tone.

He smiled at you then, and something in you gleamed a little from it. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

There was something different after that, a sort of trust or respect. Or maybe something else, you didn't really know. It was there, though.

When you found Alexandria, things shifted a little. Mostly because it was your group against another one, you and Rick were profoundly on the same side. That being said, you still clashed. You weren't sure if it was just the authority of it all, or what? (It might've had a little to do with a blonde wife that he was spending some time with, but you'd never say that out loud.)

"You're seriously not going to let me lead the run?"

"I got Daryl on it," he responded, eyes solely sat on you.

"He's been on all the runs lately," you continued, trying to explain your case, "-Shouldn't this shit be evenly distributed? Have you even talked to Daryl about what he wants? Or are you just assigning us like it's some dictatorship-"

"'Course I damn talked to 'im," he snapped back, and you could see something tired in his eyes, "-everybody gets a say in what 'ey're doin', ya know 'at."

"Except for me," you contradicted, "-you keep giving me the same fucking chores, when I'm useful in other places-"

And he was, he kept you in Alexandria -washing clothes, making dinner, keeping an eye on the people. He made you some kind of mediator between Deanna's people and your own. But you were useful, you shouldn't be locked inside like you couldn't handle yourself. Because you could, and you had before.

"-You know, I scavenged for months before I met you, right? I was alone, and I figured it out."

"I know 'at," he confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could nearly see the stress radiating off him, but you couldn't stop, not then.

"So, so what-" you asked, "-you don't trust me? You don't think I can do it?"

Rick sighed, big and loud -fully facing you, "It ain't 'at, Y/N. I know ya can handle yourself, I've seen it."

"Then, what is the problem, Grimes? I don't get it-"

"Just take the goddamn next run," he groaned, something in his tone broken (and something a little like guilt curled up in your stomach), "-I'll tell Daryl he's switchin'."

You stopped in place, words faltering off your lips. Your will and the fire in your gut extinguished, you suddenly felt very out of place, and a little like the bad guy. You knew you weren't though, but he just looked so tired-

"Okay," you finally responded, a little dumbfounded, "-thanks."

He nodded in your direction and didn't say a word. You took it as a motion to move along, so you did.

Apparently, he might've had a good reason to worry.

It wasn't that first run, or even the second or third, it was the fourth after that conversation that you were stupid. Well, it really wasn't your fault. You thought someone had your back, and they didn't; so, one of the walkers had clawed pretty deep into your arm.

It was bleeding a lot (maybe too much) and probably needed stitches, but you didn't worry about it. Denise could handle it, and you, as a community, were pretty good on medical supplies at this point.

What you didn't expect, was after Denise patched you up for one Rick Grimes to be on your ass.

You were still sitting in her doctor's space (you had no idea what to call it) then, silently trailing your fingers over the bandaging. You could already see some of the blood through the white of it. It made you a little nervous, you won't lie.

And then, the door swung open.

At first, you nearly grabbed for the knife you hid on you -alarmed, assuming it was someone coming to hurt you. Instead, you were met with one Rick Grimes -his face was all scrunched up in that way he always got when he was frustrated.

If there was one thing you could recognize, it was that.

"Rick?" you questioned -carefully, a little shocked by him bursting into the room. Did you do something to him recently?

"'At's why ya can't go on fuckin' runs," he grumbled out -suddenly so angry, it made your head spin.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What?"

"You're always makin' damn bad decisions," he continued, and something in you bristled. Your defenses were up in an instant.

"What the fuck, Rick?" you countered, "-You don't even know what happened, how the hell do you know it's on me?"

"You're injured," he clarified, a little like he was talking to himself, "-ya made a stupid mistake-"

"How the hell do you know that?" you hissed, "-Do you just think everything that goes wrong has to be my fucking fault, Grimes?"

"-and you're damn hurt."

There was something there in his tone, something different. Your frustration twisted into a little bit of curiosity. What was that?

"I can’t leave ya alone for one second without ya hurting yourself, can I?" He started up again, and it was there again, angry but also... but also-

Your eyes swam over him, and you recognized it then, worry. He was worried about you, you felt something in you stall. It was so different from what you knew from him-

"I mean," you responded, a little awkwardly -unsure (since when did he care so much?), "-I’m fine so it’s okay-"

"No, it’s not okay," he suddenly shot his eyes to you, blue eyes heavy with worry (so much, it shot to your core), "-Not when I feel like I’m goin' to go batshit fuckin' crazy, thinkin' you’ve hurt yourself."

It was silent for a moment, as your mind processed the words. Skimming along his face, as he seemed to do the same -frustration dissipating along his features.

That... That was new.

"It's just some scratches," you spoke -a little lost, you weren't sure exactly what to say. He cared about you that much? Thought about you that much?

Rick's eyes darted to the bandages, which were just about as dark as before -which was just a little, the stitches seemed to stop it mostly. Something in him relaxed, you could tell in his shoulders -the drop of the tension. You couldn't believe that was because of you. When-

"Ya had to get stitches, yeah?" He spoke, suddenly and a bit awkwardly too (like he wasn't sure what to do).

"I did," you confirmed, just looking and something in you felt like you needed to tell him more, so you did, "-Uh, five in one, and three in the other."

He pursed his lips (like he was debating something), before shattering out a breath, "Can I see it?"

"It's already wrapped up," you responded, blankly -you were running a little on autopilot, "-She already-"

"Denise can rewrap it," he offered, stepping closer. Something in your stomach stirred.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You want to waste medical supplies, just so you can see my wound?"

Rick's lips pressed into a thin line, something in him firing back up, "I'll replace the supplies my damn self, if I 'ave to, just let me see."

You couldn't really say anything, it felt like all the words had washed from your head. Like you couldn't speak if your life was on the line.

He faltered a second, sighing, and his eyes shifted to something softer (a little like pleading), "I... I need to see if ya are alright."

You felt like you were stone -frozen.

"Please."

Your heart lept into your throat (and you let your mind drift somewhere you'd never let it before), "Yeah, okay."

That started the shift.

And he started checking over you after every run, you thought it would've been annoying but... you got used to it. And something in you liked helping him calm down, although you'd never say it out loud.

Things were a little different. You clashed but it wasn't as fiery anymore. Because you knew he cared about you, and somewhere you could acknowledge you cared about him. (More than you'd ever admit.)

This time it wasn't even Rick you were arguing with. It was someone originally from Alexandria. You couldn't even remember their name, but they'd said something about you and you let it slide. But then, they kept going.

"You made a shit call," the guy remarked, sauntering up to your side.

You were a little startled, but you stayed composed, "What are you talking about?"

"We could've gotten more supplies," he continued, "-that gun store was right there, and you called the whole fucking thing off."

You soured -something steeling in your gut, "You mean the one that was swarmed? Hate to break it to you, but we were outnumbered."

"We could've done it," he added -persistent, something frustrated in his tone, "-we had the manpower."

"Are you serious?" you laughed a little incredulously, "-There were three of us, and about 30, 40 maybe, walkers. That is-"

"Maybe you couldn't have done it," he tsked, lips falling in a flat line.

You flexed your jaw, trying to stay composed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a sorry fucking excuse for a lead," he gritted through his teeth, "-You don't know shit about-"

"Next time, just go right ahead and do it yourself then," you shot back but stayed still in your space (composed, composed, composed), "-and I don't know about you, but I value life more than something we already fucking have-"

"It's ammunition," he seethed, stepping much closer to you -something sparking behind his eyes, "-Don't know if you fucking know this, but it's pretty damn important to survival-"

"No," you disagreed, voice calm and collected, "-it's not. You don't need to walk into a situation that you can't handle-"

Without warning, a fist flew at your face -right at the nose.

"Shit," you hissed, and you felt the thrum of pain under your skin and could almost immediately taste the coppery taste of blood, "-What the fuck? Why did you-"

"What the hell is goin' on 'ere?"

It was Rick, and his tone was something you'd only heard a few times -blue eyes flickering over you. They held onto your, now bleeding, nose which you were now trying to soothe, and something in his jaw tightened.

The guy was the first one to speak, mostly because you were trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily, Maggie rushed up to your side with paper towels -doing her best to help too.

"They made a mistake on the run-"

Rick didn't let him get far, "So, you punched 'em in the damn face?"

"Well," the guy fell quieter, "-we were arguing-"

Maggie snapped back, shifting her focus for a moment, "You were arguin'."

"No-"

"They were just trying to talk some sense into ya," she continued, tone cold, "-You were the one who took it personally-"

Rick put a hand on her shoulder, eyes flickering toward you -something swimming through them that you recognized from a different day, and Maggie took the notion to stop talking. She turned back to you, and gently guided you to tilt your head forward. On instinct, you pinched your nostrils shut -breathing out of your mouth.

"Even if it was a fuckin' argument," Rick tsked, something cold in his tone, "-there's no damn reason to do 'at. They weren't gettin' violent with ya-"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I kno' 'em," he retorted, "-an' if 'ey got their hands on ya, you wouldn't be standin' in front of me."

You laughed a little and could feel his eyes shoot to you for a second. It made something in your chest flutter, something you were trying desperately to ignore.

"We need to get ya some ice," Maggie spoke, mostly to herself, "-It's already bruisin' up pretty bad."

"'S leave 'is for another day," Rick seemed to exit the conversation with the man, tone unshakable, "-but if I 'ear anythin' else from ya, 'ere's gonna be a problem. Ya got 'at?"

You could almost visually see the way Rick shifted as he made his way over to you. Composure slipping into something more worried, eyebrows furrowing and eyes shining in an entirely different way. Like he couldn't help it, his hands frantically found themselves along your shoulders. It made your skin buzz a little, and made you feel a little woozy. Well, you guessed there could be more than one reason for that.

On that note, you stumbled in place a little, and Rick's hands immediately slid to your sides -stabilizing you. Your heart skipped a beat, stupid fucking handsome men with big fucking hands.

"'Ey, can ya bring a chair over 'ere, please?"

Before you could so much as blink, he was pushing you into it -gently, mind you. Ever-so-gently. And almost on instinct, he fell onto one knee in front of you, trying to hold your eye contact with your head slightly forward, you guessed. His eyes were the same as that day, but there was something else there too, something fuzzier.

"Maggie, ya go get the ice," he turned to her, "-I'll stay with 'em."

She seemed to scamper off because you could tell it was just the two of you. Maybe he'd warded off everyone else, Rick had this... aura to him when he wanted to -a dangerous one. Sometimes you thought it was to balance out his natural nature as a leader.

Quietly, you heard Rick tear off another paper towel and gently wipe at your mouth (where you imagined blood was staining at this point). It was strangely intimate, as you just skimmed over his face.

He was entirely focused on the task, so your eyes roamed along the creases along his face, the blue of his eyes, the sharp line of his nose, the little curls that peeked behind his ears-

You blinked, clearing your thoughts. He was always handsome, you knew that.

"What even is that dick's name?" you questioned, testing to see if your nose had stopped bleeding as much. It had.

Rick smiled a little, looking up at your eyes from where he was focused before (he seemed to be done), "I 'ave no fuckin' clue."

You laughed at that, and if you were honest with yourself thought you saw something shoot through his eyes. Something warm. You ignored it.

"'S hurt?" he spoke, softer.

You responded, simply, "I've had worse."

Rick smiled a little at that, but fell into something more serious, "So, yeah?"

"Like a bitch," you admitted, and he let out a low sort of chuckle.

It made something in you relax, something warm lighting up in your chest. You let yourself feel it this time, just once.

"Just so ya know," he interrupted your thought process, "-'at ain't happenin' again."

You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows -warmth dissipating, "Are you- Are you chastising me right now?"

"No," he quickly responded, but didn't explain further, "-'M just tellin' ya I ain't lettin' it happen again."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Rick paused a second, ripping another paper towel off and dabbing at your nose. It was probably still bleeding a little bit.

You just watched him, waiting for an explanation. Even though, you weren't entirely sure he was going to give you one.

"Anyone touches ya, says anythin' to ya, so much as looks at ya the wrong way-" he listed, tone deadly serious (it shook through your skull), "-ya come get me, and I’ll set 'em straight. Understand?"

Your mouth moved before you could stop it, "What?"

"I'll handle it," he repeated, pulling away the paper towel and locking eyes with yours, "-It ain't happenin' again."

"Rick," you laughed -incredulously, and maybe a little defensive, "-I don't need a fucking guard dog. I can handle myself."

"'Didn’t say 'at," he hummed, carefully, eyes skimming along your face -a little like he was in wonder (it made your head spin a second), "-'S for me, not ya."

"How does that-"

"If 'ey're fuckin' with ya, 'ey're fuckin' with me," he interrupted, eyes so solid that you couldn't really look away, "-you can handle it how ya want, but Imma 'ave some choice words of my own. So, send 'em my way too."

The words faltered in your throat, something swirling around your heart. He was just so-

The coppery taste again.

You shriveled up your nose in disgust, and Rick laughed at it (something gleaming in his eye), as you reacted -spitting the taste out into the dirt.

"Yeah, keep laughing, Grimes," you tsked, but there was no bite, not really. Not like there used to be, "-I'll beat the shit out of you."

"'Ere's no doubt in my mind," he retorted back, smiling in a way that crinkled at the eyes. You thought for a spare second it was a beautiful one, that maybe he was beautiful.

After that day, you'd say that everything was a little confusing.

These feelings towards Rick were far from new, very far. They'd always kind of been in the very back of your mind. Part of you was actually pretty sure that hating him had in some way distanced you from what you felt otherwise. Now, that is to say, you had definitely hated him at one point. That just didn't mean that it erased the... other thing.

You and Rick were off-kilter. Or at least you were. You guessed you couldn't say anything about him, he was very much a mystery to you at this point.

He just kept doing things. Like the scratch and nosebleed. And every time he'd smile at you a bit warmer, say something you couldn't really avoid. Not anymore. (And you weren't sure you wanted to avoid, honestly.)

And he'd looked at you a lot more, searched you out (when before you used to shun each other, avoid each other), and just smiled at you sometimes for no reason. The thing was you didn't mind it. You wanted him to. Because you... because it was all different.

You were confused, but you weren't going to be the one to encroach on it. It all felt so surreal, that one day something would happen and you'd just snap right back into place -just like before. To be fair, you still argued. But, it was moreso bickering now. And even if it wasn't, before you could get as heated as you used to, you compromised -easily.

You slotted together perfectly and bounced off each other with ease. Hell, he started coming to you about running Alexandria, about problems he couldn't quite get. And the two of you would talk until you worked out a solution. Because you always did.

It made no sense why you'd even clashed in the first place.

You were confused, beyond confused. And you wanted things, wanted to ask things, but they seemed dangerous. Far away-

That brought you here, on a night when you couldn't sleep. Which were more frequent nowadays, if you were completely honest. This whole situation made your mind run for a lot of different reasons, and when it wasn't that, it was nightmares. Alexandria was safe, you knew that, but it didn't necessarily stop your fight or flight -the urge to constantly be on edge, protect.

So, sometimes you sat here on the steps of your porch in the night -the chill and silence of it soothed you. It wouldn't always get you back to sleep, but it would make you feel better. Remind yourself that you're breathing. That you're alive.

You exhaled, trailing your finger along the wood of the railing beside you -absorbing the low buzz of bugs in the air and the strangely familiar groans of walkers outside the walls. It was kinda fucked up that it calmed you down, but you gave yourself a pass.

"Funny seein' ya 'ere."

Your eyes shot up and latched onto his.

The Grimes house was just a couple of houses down, diagonal to yours. So, you could see him, but not entirely clearly.

He was leaning on the porch railing, you could see the sleeves of his jacket against the starch white, and his hair seemed a little messy -your eyes trailed over a particular curl. It was hanging slightly down in front of his face. (You got the urge to fix it, comb it back into place.)

"'Could say the same to you, Grimes," you replied.

You saw him smile, dropping his head to look at the ground. It made something in your chest flutter. But, before you could say anything else, he was stepping down from his porch and making his way to you.

As he got closer you recognized that he was in pajamas with just a jacket thrown over.

He stood just at the bottom of the stairs, leaning onto the railing slightly and just looking at you. Like he always did these days. With worry and... something else.

"Nightmare?" he questioned, genuinely.

You rolled your lip around your teeth, deciding to say, "Kind of."

Rick's lips pressed into a frown, eyes glazing along your face (you didn't look back at him), "Can I sit?"

You were wordless, but moved slightly to the left (despite not really needing to) as unspoken acceptance. He stared at you for a second longer, before slowly but surely making his way to the steps. He sat closer to you than you thought he would've, but it was almost in character of him to do something that surprises you so.

"Ya cold?"

On cue, you shivered slightly, "I've had worse."

Rick let out a low sigh (he knew you well now), nudging off his jacket and hanging it squarely on your shoulders without hesitation. His eyes trailed over you wearing it for a moment, a small look in his eyes that you couldn't name. All shiny as his lips quirked up just a smidgen.

"You don't have to do that," you objected, but it was quiet and weak.

"I want to," he replied, simply.

You couldn't argue with that. Hell, you didn't think you could argue with him anymore-

Rick interrupted the thought, eyebrows furrowed in that kind of way you knew to be worried, "What do ya mean 'kinda'?"

You took a second, staring out into the night -listening to the silence.

"My mind won't stop," you clarified, "-sometimes it's... things I've done, and other times it's... things that I just can't seem to figure out."

"What's it today?"

You pursed your lips a minute, before answering, "Something I can't figure out."

He stared at you, blue eyes flickering along your face in a hazy sort of way. It made something unfurl in your chest that you'd tried to keep shoved down, "Is 'ere anythin' I can do to help?"

You ran the idea through your head a few times, and let your eyes match him a few more. You aren't entirely sure why, but talking to Rick fel a little like he'd never judge you. Even though he had before, it was... it was now. Things were very different.

"Can I ask you a question?" you spoke, then, deflecting a little.

"Shoot," he responded, almost instantly. ( A little like he'd do anything you'd ask.)

"What happened to us?"

Rick's eyebrows furrowed, and you took it as a motion to keep talking, to explain. So, you did.

"We used to-" you dropped your hands on your lap, and stared out into the Alexandrian streets, "-We used to scream at each other until our faces turned red. We couldn't stand each other, and now..."

"'At ain't a good thing?" he questioned, something in his tone a little disappointed (it made your head swirl a little), "-'At it changed, I mean."

"It is," you reassured, facing him a second, "-but I just... Isn't it confusing?"

Rick stayed silent a second, eyes smoothing along your face. Just looking, like maybe he thought you were beautiful (just like you did on that day), or maybe like he never wanted to forget what you looked like.

"No."

You pressed your lips together.

"Don't get me wrong," he clarified with a smile, "-I hated ya once, a long time ago. But 'is? Now? It makes sense."

You asked before you could think about it, "What is 'this'?"

He just stared at you a second, something flickering through his eyes, careful and considerate. Something warm. The warmth you kept seeing now, the one you tried to avoid.

"You," he answered, vaguely, "-Us."

"What does that mean?" you asked, your confusion was ever-so-clear. This was all things you didn't understand.

He didn't say anything, as you stared out into the streets -watching some of the porch lights flicker. The night sky was still dark, so you weren't really worried about the hour.

And then, you felt calloused fingers on your chin -guiding you back to his eyes. The thoughts cleared out of your head.

"Y/N, you drive me fuckin' crazy," he laughed a little, and you felt your eyebrows furrow, "-not just in a frustratin' sorta way. You... I worry about ya like crazy, I think of ya like crazy... I care 'bout ya like crazy-"

Your heart skipped a beat.

"-an' I... I love ya like crazy."

Your lips felt stitched shut, as he just smiled at you -something in his eyes that you could see now. You could identify.

"Ya poke and prod at me until I'm reelin', yeah, but-" he pressed his lips together, eyes shimmering across your face, "-I wouldn't 'ave it any other fuckin' way. An' I mean 'at. I just... I'm not me without ya annoyin' the shit out of me. Without ya callin' me out on my shit."

You laughed, something burning the backs of your eyes, "I am the only one who would do that, huh?"

"Ya are," he grinned at you, and you felt something in your chest squeeze tight.

It felt clear then, abundantly clear.

"I love you too, Grimes."

He grinned, the big kind that crinkled at the eyes, "Thought so."

You rolled your eyes, with no bite, "Oh shut up, sheriff. I could still kick your ass, and you would deserve it."

He laughed, the genuine kind -hand coming to cradle your cheek, "Still, don't doubt it, sweetheart."

You smiled, and noticed just how close the two of you were. He only seemed to be roaming closer, and it made your heartbeat pick up in your chest a little. Before you could stop it, your eyes dipped down to his lips.

He grinned again, the kind that rattle down to your core, all handsome and shiny white teeth. And then, he started moving closer, his own eyes dipping to your lips.

"Ya kno', I can think of a way to get me to shut up."

"Can you?" you teased, quiet between the two of you.

He just hummed, distracted. It made something in your stomach stir.

"I am pretty desperate for you to," you remarked -playfully.

Rick busted into laughter, a loud kind that you barely ever heard from him. It made something in your chest shimmer, proud. You kind of wanted to hear that forever. And now, maybe you could.

The thought made you grin, as you leaned forward, impatiently, and connected your lips to his. It was just a press of lips, but you did feel him lean into it. Before you could get far, he laughed even more, breaking off the kiss, and it made you laugh.

"'Course ya can't wait for one second," he chuckled -playfully, "-You've always been so damn impatient."

"Oh, fuck you, Grimes," you laughed into the night, "-You're lucky I don't-"

And this time, he shut you up.

[weirdmorefics]

benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day

A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

TW- Sexism

Word Count- 1,653

Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.

Unhonorable Intentions

I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.

"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.

I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"

She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."

Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.

Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"

I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"

This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"

I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.

"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.

Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.

I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."

Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"

I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."

She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.

"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.

I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.

She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"

All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.

"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.

Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.

I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."

Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"

I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."

"Not helping!' She shouts back.

"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."

Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."

"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.

She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"

I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."

She smiles, "You're proud of me."

"I am not saying it again," I state.

she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.

"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."

She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"

"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.

She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."

"That's the point Y/n," I smile.

She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."

"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.

"Thank you, I guess," she responds.

I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.

[certifiedwhore4slashers]

final girl | coriolanus snow

pairing: ghostface!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you've become a target, the final girl of a killer's movie.

warnings: dark content, possessive!coryo, dark!coryo, obsession/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes(if you squint), stalking, murder, blood and gore, coryo being delusional, threats of violence, violence, sort of modern!au, no use of y/n, naive!reader, r is too kind.

It was october, not only that but there was a killer on the loose. You were by yourself, much to your parent’s annoyance. You told them,”I’m 18 Mom. I technically could be on my own. Please, let me be on my own. I’ll be fine. I’ve got friends who can help me. And 911 on the phone.”

Your mother sighed. "The capitol’s safe enough. Fine. But if anything happens-” “Protocol, I know, I know all the rules, You replied. You did. Normally, your parents weren't like this. But there was a killer. A fucking killer. Of course they'd be worried for their only child.

You were also the heir to wealthy parents and known in the capitol. Your parents were. If there would be a target, you might be on that list. Either way, you were going to be as safe as you could be.

. You place yourself on the couch. The staff, which included the maids, were on their day-offs today, which was unfortunate for you. Tonight, would be different, though, you had no idea.

Clemensia, your best friend, texted you.

Home alone?

You replied almost right away.

Yeah. It took convincing, though. My parents are kind of protective.

You knew she was sighing and rolling her eyes at your comment. Clemensia was logical, so were you. The both of you were, but sometimes you could be reckless. Her, too, but not tonight apparently.

For good reason. I mean, there's a killer out there.

You wanted to just watch a movie, something that was a form of entertainment in the Capitol, obviously. You decide a horror movie was too gruesome for a time like this, and were planning to watch a rom-com. A surprise, considering you loved horror movies.

Yeah. I feel too... scared to watch a scary movie. That's how bad this is getting.

That was the truth, you were utterly terrified. Terrified to even watch scary movies, as if it'd become true. You check your phone. Updates in the group chat continue.

Your friend, Coriolanus, was discussing the killer. But also said that everyone should be careful. It was a known fact he liked you, but you were oblivious.

You were always so naïve.

They say he calls his victims before he kills them. I hope that's not true. I mean, what if he gets one of us?

The latest kills were students at the school, Gaius Breen and Androcles Anderson. This was tragic, and they didn't deserve it. They really didn't. And it made you wonder, why?

Why?

Clemensia was texting you and then calls. “Hey Clemmie, You say. “Hey! She replied. She sounded a little better but still, she was probably terrified just like you. "You okay, Clemmie, why did you call? You ask her, naturally. "Clemmie" was a nickname given in your childhood. You had a friend group that all had your own nicknames, including you. "I don't know, I don't think I'd like to be by myself, She admitted.

"That's fair, You agreed."I don't think... Hold on. I'm getting another call. Can I be right back on that?" "Mhm, it's not your fault, Clemensia said.

You end that call, and while the number was not one you'd recognize, sometimes you don't put in numbers on accident, or change the name. It happens. "Hello? You say, kindly. No matter who called, you tried to be as polite as you could be. 

"Hello."

Already, you know this is a stranger. For one thing, the voice isn't one yo recognize, secondly, the number wasn't in your contacts. So it wasn't one you accidentally kept the number on. Unless this was a prank. 

"Sorry I have to ask, who is this?"

"Who is this?"

"I already asked that. What number are you trying to reach?"

"I don't know, what number is this?"

You chuckle. "You called me, shouldn't you know?"

"I guess not."

In your mind, you conclude that this must be a wrong number. It wasn't his fault, so you weren't going to be annoyed by it. They seemed to be confused. "Wrong number, it's not your fault, it happens." You hang it up, and it was eerily similar to the beginning of Scream. You brushed it off, and planned to call Clemensia back, when the number called again.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number."  

"Oh, then why did you call again?"

"To apologize."

"Well, I forgive you, so-"

"Wait, can we talk?"

You sigh. "I'd love to. But i've got a phone call to do, bye, buddy." You hang up again. You innocently think of this as some joke. So, entertaining the prankster wouldn't be too bad for you. 

However, you needed to call Clemensia back, ASAP. As you were about to tap her name to call, the prankster called again. However, you weren't going to be mad or annoyed, you were that good of a person.

Maybe naïve for your own good, but kind nonetheless. 

"Hello?"

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" 

"Oh, hi, um... I just don't know you at all. Sorry."

"You seem very sweet and understanding."

"I try to be. You never know. What's your name?"

"You tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."

You place a piece of popcorn in my mouth, my soda beside me by the movie." As much as it'd be nice to make another friend, you'd have to earn that." A while ago, you texted your boyfriend to come over. Where was he? Your parents were gone. This was your chance to finally get intimate tonight. Still, no response. You texted him a couple of times. You frown. Is he cheating on me? You thought.

"What are you eating?"

"Popcorn, You immediately reply. "I'm watching a movie."

"What movie?"

"A rom-com, I can't bring myself to watch a horror movie."

"Rom-coms are cheesy, I think horror movies are incredible."

"Ah, a horror nerd, You joke. "Well, I normally think so, too. But, it's just... whatever."

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

You smile. "I guess I'd say, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It's interesting."

"A good choice. It's brutal."

You check your phone a couple of times, still on the call, your boyfriend messaged once. He was on his way, and apologized for not being there. You accepted it, he was a good boyfriend, and was normally on time or responded, he was perfect. So, you forgave him immediately. 

"So, you've got a boyfriend?"

His voice was flirty, and suggestive, even. But you weren't flattered or anything. You loved your boyfriend. "Mhm, You say."So, I'm not interested. We're happy together."

"Ah, lovebirds. How cute."

His voice was sarcastic. However, you still tried to remain kind. You didn't say anything as a response though. 

"You never said your name."

"Why do you want my name?"

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at."

You freeze. "What did you say?"

"I want to know who I'm talking to.""

You shake your head."No. That's not what I heard." Panicked, you text your boyfriend and Clemensia. Someone was watching you."I'm hanging up."

"Why would you do that, Doll?"

"I... I just have to go."

"Don't hang up."

You text your boyfriend once more, hoping he'd come quick. Instead, however, you got a disturbing response.

Don't hang up on me. It won't end well for you.

You lock every door in your house, this creep wouldn't come in your house. But you also weren't ignoring his calls anymore certainly. He calls again, and you pick up. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk, doll."

"No, clearly not. Otherwise-"

"You've caught me. I want to play a game. Like I played with your boyfriend."

"What did you do with him?"

"Go check for yourself."

You whimper, stepping towards the back of your large home. You had a feeling it'd be in your backyard, the answer you were looking for. When you turn on the lights, You scream. Your phone drops, but thankfully doesn't break. Your boyfriend, was hung and gutted in your tree, bloody and all. You began to sob, shakily picking your phone up. "Please, why did you kill him?"

"You belong to me, doll. You're mine. I won't let anyone take you from me."

In that moment, a figure with a ghostly mask bursts in, grabbing you from behind, hands on your waist as you begin to fight, what was he going to do? Take you? You kick, your elbow kicking his rips, and a groan came out from him. You run. You held your phone, call ended. You take this chance and call 911. 

Ghostface gets up, and mid call, is fast and you dropped your phone. You yelp, trying everything in your power.You’re thrown onto the floor and now he’s on top of you, knife in hand was clean but probably washed off the blood after murdering your boyfriend.

what was he going to do with you?

He must be contemplating what he was planning to do. Your legs were stuck, so you couldn’t kick him. He tilts his head. His knife trails down your body, suggestively but also mocking you, it's between your breasts, and then you grab his wrist, trying to pry him off of you. But he's stronger. He says,"Be a good girl and I won't hurt you." He must mean death, so you nod, still crying. The police would come. 

You must've hit the floor hard, because your vision was foggy, and you were close to passing out. If this was death, you were ready. But you had no injuries. You clearly were just going unconscious. You use your free arm to take his mask off.

Your eyes widen."Coryo?" You barely see the grin on his face before you black out.

[sgiandubh]

The Ascent of Lying

Why, Mordor people? Why do you lie?

Is it stupidity? Hunger Greed for clicks? That #silly, #silly itch to be FIRST? And RIGHT?

The Ascent of Lying started in this fandom with *urv. Her Google sources, her undying obsession for S (and the mandatory hypocrisy that comes along with it), her paltry stories fit for people who never took a flight overseas in their entire life (not something bad at all, but in this context, this makes you incredibly fragile), her remake of the Twilight fandom hullaballoo and her chutzpah.

It continued with Jess, on this side of the fandom: her OTT girlish enthusiasm, her elusiveness IRL and finally, her capitulation and resurrection, under the same name, but with a totally opposed POV. For perhaps you don't know it, but Jess 2.0 has been back since quite a while ago, now making amends about her former strong beliefs. Even taking full responsibility for some 'receipts' (remember the S lemon pin/wedding ring one? she confirmed it was her and it probably was a #silly, horrible lie). How convenient and how depressing, isn't it? Reading her new, sparse blog brought along two firm thoughts: why this need to robotically inform us about her happiness and her change of heart? Also, how many Anons did Jess 2.0 send, since her comeback, to this side of the fandom?

Let this disappointment be my sin, then and let the link to her new hole in the wall remain undisclosed by this page. I have no wish to either start a flaming war, nor give this woman more space than she deserves:

You'll have to deal with the very childish LMAO and this completely irresponsible explanation: 'it was fun to fantasize at the time'. No, lady: you LIED. You lied through your teeth and because you had the privilege of having a thirsty audience, you thoroughly enjoyed this strange avatar of fame, as you say it publicly yourself, now. You even were, most probably, heavily used by ***'s PR and even S (that is a very firm belief), just like another very fragile individual, who switched sides in a far more vocal and pathetic way. That makes for a mixed bag of truths and lies, something I think we all are way too familiar with, by now. But that does not preclude, nor excuse in any shape or form, your eagerness to ahem, 'embellish" a very real love story and twist it according to your naivete and parochial life experience. Morally, you are 0, to me: a sentimental troll, completely on par with *urv.

I could blather on and on about Jess's main competitor, Puffy, too. I think I already wrote enough about her, if only because many believed me to be her latest avatar, which is completely ridiculous, but ridiculous with an agenda. So, did Puffy lie, too? Probably, especially while creating Stella and Deep Throat out of thin air. Let's agree she heavily extrapolated, which is a shame, because some of her analysis is really spot on.

The Ascent of Lying then morphed, along with an US busy social and political agenda being more and more sensitive to the 'fake news" issue, towards the Factchecker Anti blogs, who mimicked neutrality and promoted online stalking to unprecedented levels. Along came people like Meowkabob, who even manufactured their own facts/evidence and released them online. That was perfectly premeditated and done for increased credibility (I have debunked her shite last fall, if you remember), being fully aware that her libel could not be justified only by a prior, questionable, 'London experience', of which we conveniently have no concrete details. The other blog, you all know and sometimes visit: whether she is a PR plant or lonely rider doesn't really matter, yet a stalker and a hypocrite in her own right, too. The fact that both these persons suddenly felt an urge to express themselves during the heavily conspiratorial climate of the first COVID pandemic wave is not innocent at all, I think.

Lying is the real Uncharted Territory of this fandom and one of the main reasons we seldom have nice things to talk about, anymore. I barely scratched its surface and merely stated the obvious. If anything, it only comforted and strengthened my own beliefs, which I always strived to base on personal findings and facts, along with other likeminded people's experience. And I'd rather take the general brunt and simply say 'I don't know", than embellish. Also, when I am wrong, I am wrong: it happens to the best of us and it's always either immediately edited and explained or taken full responsibility for.

What I do know with a reasonable degree of certainty is that These Two are together. And this is all that matters to me, justifying my presence here.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. There's more, but here is just an overview of the sentiments that prompted my next investigation.

[matan4il]

To the lovely American Nonnie, who told me that all antisemitism is bad, but leftist antisemitism is the worst because "they are being protected and celebrated. By media, pop culture, and academia. With no middle ground," I agree. The anti-Israel type of antisemitism is, without a doubt, the most socially accepted kind. It's the only kind that someone can spew, and get publicly applauded. The only kind where someone can celebrate the massacre of Jews, and either there are no consequences to that, or there finally are, and then that person and their supporters can pretend they're a martyr, being "persecuted" for being "critical of Israel," when in reality legit criticism of Israel is a very different thing to bias against the only Jewish state, and that person is just another Jew hater.

But I don't think it's just that.

I think it's also the fact that most antisemites are at least honest about hating Jews. The anti-Israel type of antisemitism tries to pretend it's not Jew hatred. So you'll get the hypocrisy of wishing Jews a Happy Hanukkah, a Zionist holiday, while attacking Zionism, and claiming it's incompatible with Judaism. Or you'll have people telling you how important it is to them to combat antisemitism, then they'll turn around and spit out leftist antisemitic conspiracy theories, that instead of saying Jews use the blood of non-Jewish kids to bake matzos, claim the Jewish state only sent a field hospital to Haiti after the earthquake, to harvest human organs. Or they'll proudly announce they're not antisemitic, and to "prove" it, they'll tokenize Jews, which is an antisemitic act in itself. And the worst is when they won't even listen to Jews who tell them that they're being antisemitic, or worse, they'll claim Zionism is antisemitic, which would make 90% of Jews, as well as the Bible itself, antisemitic. It's gaslighting Jews and non-Jews on what is Judaism and what is antisemitic. Other types of antisemites don't do that.

I also think this kind of antisemitism is particularly infuriating, because of the deep discrepancy between the values the left is supposed to stand for, and how they abandon those values when it comes to Jews. "Believe all women!" suddenly isn't applied when Israeli Jewish women are mass raped. "Violence is never the answer! Taking a human life is always wrong!" Then suddenly when Israeli Jews are massacred, and we get explanations on why violence is legit if people are occupied, even when it's translated into mass murder.

And lastly, there's the discrimination, because the left would never treat any other marginalized group the way it does Jews. "Don't speak over a minority group! Listen to their lived experiences!" Then a Jew tries to explain why anti-Zionism is antisemitic, and suddenly all the non-Jew leftists are bigger experts than us on Jewish history and and hatred of Jews, and we're not listened to when we talk about our persecution in the Middle East pre-modern Zionism (meaning the persecution and repeated massacres of Jews in the Middle East is being denied, in a way no one on the left would dare deny, for example, that the transatlantic slave trade happened), or how much anti-Zionism threatens non-Israeli Jews. "Educate yourself" is a common call, but no one feels the need to properly educate themselves on Jewish history, identity and native rights, or worse, they read propaganda from anti-Israel sources only, and think that's the same as educating themselves, as if when they're about to write about any other marginalized group, they would only take in the "education" of those that the group says hate it. "Ethnic cleansing is the worst!" the left says, while chanting slogans that, at the very least, call for the ethnic cleansing of Jews from the Jewish ancestral homeland, and no one gives a damn about us when we point this out. "None of us is free until all of us are free!" goes the intersectionalist call of the left, but Jews are excluded from that. No one cares about modern Zionism being our liberation movement, and we are sometimes physically removed from spaces that are supposed to be dedicated to marginalized groups, as was done to my friend at the Chicago Dyke March, when she wanted to hold a Jewish pride flag, under the claim that the Jewish pride flag makes Palestinians at the march feel unsafe... How safe did queer Jews feel in that moment, or when learning about that incident? But no one cares.

Sending lots of hugs from Jerusalem to you, in the US! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 5:

Absdoughlutely

Series masterlist

Previous part: Captain-what’s-his-butt Next Part: Sunflower

Word Count: 5,675

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

Three knocks on a door got you nothing but silence.

Four more knocks got you more silence.

But a ring on the doorbell and about twenty more knocks got you the sound of locks clicking and a door swooshing open with urgency.

On the other side was a disgruntled Georgia, out of breath because she ran to the door. "Child, if this isn't an emergency-"

"Why haven't you spoken to me in a week?" You questioned with a vocal drawl and a feigned playful yet sullen expression.

She stared blankly at you as the hot summer breeze mingled with the cold air from the AC in her house. "You've been busy with that boy."

"You know his name" You raised an eyebrow. "Just because I'm friends with him doesn't mean I'm not friends with you. Are we back in middle school, Peach?"

"You aren't just friends with him." She shook her head and leaned against the doorframe. "The two of you are getting really cozy."

"Even if we were, would that be such a bad thing?" You asked feeling confused. "Weren't you the one saying I should be dating?"

"Of course i'd love to see you happy, but not with him." She wagged her finger back and forth.

Your playful energy deflated, this was no longer a ploy to spend time with the friend you missed, it became personal.

"Why?" You crossed your arms. The sun directly over head stung your skin as you furrowed your brows.

"I don't like him." She said in a tone you've never heard her use before, completely taking you back. "He's the kind've boy that's going to take your heart and stomp all over it. You've said it yourself, there's something about him that's a little odd."

"And you're the one who said that he just needs time to warm up." You threw her words right back at her. "I gave him the time, he's nice and warm now. You've given him nothing but judgement and momentary uncomfortable interactions, of course you'd think he's a little cold."

"I also said he could be a murderer or a stalker, didn't I?" She crossed her arms too, both of you feeling defensive over yourselves. "And why do you feel such a strong need to defend him, baby doll?"

"Because you're being rude to a very sweet man who's done nothing but try to be nice to everyone in Greenwood." You scoffed. "He's expressed to me that he really wanted to be your friend but backed away because you were being cold and short."

"Well then he's very good at reading body language, now isn't he?" Georgia offered a fake smile, batting her eyelashes.

"This is ridiculous." You scoffed at her behavior, completely taken aback. "You really aren't going to speak to me because you don't like Steven?"

"No. I just want to stress that I don't like him, and I can see your heartbreak coming from three miles away." She explained. "I care about you and your precious little heart, I can't stick around to watch someone play with it before stomping all over it."

You audibly chuckled at the hypocrisy of her words. "If you really cared about someone messing with my heart, you wouldn't be dangling it over the edge of a cliff by being a shitty friend over your opinion of a man that's been nothing but kind to me"

"Watch your language, young lady." Georgia scolded.

"No. I'm not a child. I'm not your child either." You refused to let her walk all over you like that.

"Even Michael agrees, you need to stay away from that boy." Georgia let slip.

"Is that what this is about?" You questioned. "Your husband forms an opinion so you have to go along with it for the sake of keeping the peace?"

"This has nothing to do with him."

"Well I think it does" You insisted. "Because the Georgia I know is a loving, kindhearted lady that would take anyone under her wing if they needed it. You used to love everyone, but ever since the sokovia accords you've been letting Michael get in your head, and now you're both turning into judgmental know-it-all's"

"It also has nothing to do with the civil war" Her voice was dripping with warning.

You sighed and shook your head. "I'm over this, if you want to keep trying to work it out you know where I live." as you started to unfold your arms and walk away, one last thought came to mind. "And by the way, Steven has been way more careful with my heart recently than you have."

As you walked down her porch steps and out into the street, the only response to that statement was the sound of a door slamming.

You hadn't seen Steve since you told him you knew he was Captain America. It had been a few days, but they were days you usually wouldn't see him anyways. But ever since you pieced the puzzle together, you couldn't help but to start feeling anxious for him.

Through just a tiny window of his eyes, you could understand why trying to settle down for a little while was risky. Anyone could find out who he is at any given moment, and people like Georgia were a constant threat to his well-being.

Although you were upset that she was being so harsh and critical towards Steve at the moment, a tiny part of you felt relief that she didn't already know what you knew. She still felt far from the truth, and in the long run, limiting the interactions between Steve and Georgia will be better for the both of them.

It gave her less of a chance to stare into his big blue eyes and charming toothy smile to recognize him the same way you did. Because if Georgia or Michael found out Steve's true identity, both you and him would be toast.

You could barely come to terms with how fast and often he had been running around in your mind. All you wanted to do was go check in on him, wanting to wrap him up in a big squishy hug, confess that you genuinely starting missing him in your short few day breaks apart during the week.

What you didn't know was that in those few days, Steve felt the same way. He'd stopped himself a few times from going over to your place and knocking on the door just to see your smile and thank you once more for everything you've done for him. But he didn't want to overwhelm you, and he also knew it wasn't your responsibility to carry the weight of being his constant safe space.

However, he did feel like he owed you a grander gesture of gratitude beyond what he could ever say with words. So in his time away from you, he painted you a picture of the grassy field in the pretty park the two of you had gone to together the first time you'd ever really hung out.

After finishing off some very important details, he popped it in a frame he thought would match your house. Since he knew he would be seeing you tomorrow, he ventured outside of his house to find you the prettiest flowers he could from anyone who would sell a bouquet to him.

When he settled on the perfect ones, he brought them home to cut down the stems and put them in a vase. It almost made him a little sad. In any other situation, he would be courting you. As he arranged them perfectly in the vase, he had a silent moral debate in his head.

These flowers are to say thank you and that was it. You wouldn't take them as a romantic gesture, because they weren't. All friends get each other flowers for all different occasions, and this was totally normal. They would do nothing to hurt you in the long run.

Considering he was devoted to keeping to himself, he unfortunately had a whole day to overthink his choices.

Maybe it was too much, he should just jump ship and keep the painting and flowers to himself. It would spare him a lot of embarrassment if you took it the wrong way, and maybe you were only nice to him because you felt bad. Maybe you didn't want them in the first place.

He eventually snapped out of it, because the version of him he once knew was more confident than this. Old him would never second guess the thought of giving a gift, so maybe this version of him shouldn't either.

Besides, if it went terribly wrong, he already had a lot of reasons to leave Greenwood. There was always an exit plan.

His decision to go through with his original plans were set in stone when he got a text from you at around noon.

'Hey, I know you usually come hang out on Tuesday's but I stayed home today. Just really needed a break, but i'd still love to spend time with you today. Want to come over?'

He let you know that he'd be there soon before quickly taking a shower and getting dressed. It was only after he had tied his shoes and grabbed his keys that you texted him a very strict dress code of only the coziest clothes he owned.

So just for you, he changed his outfit, and fixed his hair one more time before heading over to your door with flowers and the painting in his hands. He settled on some cozy running shorts and a t shirt hoping it would meet your standards for the comfort you had in mind.

As he made the very short walk over to your front door, he could feel Georgia's eyes on him from her living room window. Then as he knocked, she found it a very convenient time to walk outside to get the mail from her mailbox. He gave his best attempt at a wave, but he was met with a glare.

Yikes.

When the door swung open, your eyes immediately landed on Georgia sticking her nose into your business, then right to Steve who was standing there obviously uncomfortable with flowers in his hands.

Annoyed at Georgia and keen on protecting your sweet Steve from her wrath, you quite literally pulled him in your house by his arm before closing the door in an absolute whirlwind.

"Woah!" He stumbled on his feet, quick to balance himself.

"Sorry!" You let go of his arm and smoothed the sleeve of his shirt down. "Georgia was staring, I don't want her anywhere near any of your business"

It took him a second to process all that had happened in such a short amount of time, then he realized he was just awkwardly standing there. "Oh! Uh, these are for you. I just- you've done a lot for me since I've been here and I wanted to say thank you."

"Stop it, you are so sweet!" A puppy dog expression smeared across your face, pouting at the thoughtful man in front of you. "You didn't have to do that."

He set the painting down on the table next to him, and before he even got a chance to put the flowers next to it, you had jumped up on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck.

You could hear his giggle in your ear before one arm wrapped around you and held you close, the other held the bouquet behind your back.

"But I wanted to." He insisted. "I really appreciate you, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"I think I'm the lucky one here, honey." You gave him a good squeeze before letting him go. "Did you paint this?!"

"... depends on what you think of it." Steve's lopsided smile poked through.

"It's so beautiful! I love it so much" You picked it up to inspect it further. Immediately recognizing the setting, you were highly impressed with the detail.

"Okay, then yes I painted it" He claimed his work.

"You're so talented, this is going to be worth like... a billion dollars."

"Keep dreaming, sweetheart." Steve laughed

"Well it's worth a billion dollars to me! I'll cherish it forever. "And the flowers are so pretty!"

"I grew those myself" Steve joked.

"Oh did you?" You laughed. "You must have a really impressive garden in your backyard."

"Yep, I've been working on it for years."

"You're stupid!" You laughed. "It's a good thing you're so pretty."

"You think I'm pretty?!" Steve enthused.

"Honey, you're just about the prettiest thing Greenwood has to offer."

"Second to you" He playfully winked.

You smiled and shook your head at him as he mentally beat himself up. He shouldn't be pulling you along like this. Playing around with you like a toy until he had to leave you high and dry, it was wrong.

"You are just too much" You grinned with a blush stippling over your cheeks.

He knew you were playing around, but you were right. He was being too much.

"Thank you, Steve." You said sincerely, completely shutting off all his brain noise.

"You're welcome." His heart skipped a beat as you called him Steve for the first time. But then he saw it, the tiniest deflate in your mood, and a tiny twinge of sadness in your eye.

He started following you through your house to the living room, then he watched you plop down in the couch with a subtle sigh.

"What's wrong?" He questioned sadly.

"Oh... it's nothing," You shrugged it off as he slowly sat next to you. But as he examined your body language with his big concerned eyes, you knew there was no use in pretending. "It's just- Georgia."

"Is that what the whole door thing was all about?" He questioned softly.

"Yeah" You tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded, trying to find a way to tell him the situation without making him feel bad. "I think we need to find better ways to hang out without her knowing."

"Is she onto me?" He asked nervously.

"No, I don't think so. But she's smart, Honey. She doesn't like that we're hanging out and for some reason she wants you far, far away from me." You explained. "I think the more she sees, the more curious she will get and the more digging she will do. That's not good for either of us, is it?"

"No, it's not." He shook his head with a sigh. "I can't be around you if it's going to put your safe-"

"Shut it" You cut him off, and smiled when he pouted once more. "Nothing on this earth can convince me you're bad to be around. All I'm saying is we need to get more creative than the front door."

"But what if-"

"I don't care."

"I'll hop the fence?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Can you do that?" You giggled.

"I free dived off a plane with no parachute" Steve shrugged. "How difficult could one fence be?"

"You know what? We can figure out the logistics later." You nodded. "My point is, just be careful around her. That's all."

"Okay, and my point is that I really care about you. If this starts putting you in danger, I'll never be able to forgive myself."

"I care about you too, which is why we're going to find a way to keep us both safe and happy? Okay?"

He sunk into himself at the thought of everything you're putting on the line. "...okay."

"Cool, now that we got that out of the way, I was thinking we could order some food and watch a movie?"

"Sounds fun to me!" Steve enthused. "I'm starving"

"You're always hungry" You giggled. "Probably because you run a marathon a day."

"It's not my fault" He pouted, slumping onto the couch. "Stupid serum. My metabolism is really fast. And if I don't move, I start to get restless and anxious."

"Don't worry, pretty baby, I'll feed you." You laughed at his grumbly explanation, ignoring the way his cheeks turned pink. "What do you want?"

"...Can't even get drunk" he mumbled again.

"Okay, so we're not drinking vodka for dinner..." You spoke to yourself, scrolling through all the options on your phone.

The two of you eventually settled on an ungodly amount of Chinese food that you'd eat on the couch. The boxes littered the coffee table well after both of you had finished eating, and you sprawled out on the couch, hand resting on your happily bloated stomach. You found yourself in a blissful food coma after trying to out eat Steve. He warned you it was a bad idea, but you took on the challenge anyway. He beat you by two crab Rangoons, but you claimed it didn't count because you definitely ate more fried rice than him.

His evidence that he won was that he felt perfectly fine, while you were one wrong move away from tasting your dinner all over again.

That comment resulted in you flipping him off, and tossing the TV remote at him. "Put something on, I can't even think." You complained.

He laughed at you and caught it effortlessly. "What do you want to watch? Action? Romcom? Oh! I know! A musical"

"If you put it on a musical, I might actually throw up. I'm already too nauseous for that." You joked.

"Okay, how about a Disney movie? Ratatouille? Tarzan?" He questioned, scrolling through all the options.

"Ratatouille is Pixar." You poked.

All he did was glare at you with narrowed eyes in response to that statement.

"Monsters Inc." He continued.

"Also Pixar" You smile. "I want to watch a Captain America movie"

"Okay that's it" He shook his head. "I'm putting on Cars, and you have no choice but to watch it"

"Another Pixar movie" You laughed.

"I miss the bakery" He sighed.

"Wow. You only like me for my cookies." You feigned an upset expression.

"Your sourdough is phenomenal as well." He nodded.

"Jerk..." You smiled.

"Feeling squisher..."

You gasped and clutched your chest, then the fake tears started to fall.

"Noooooooo!" Steve sprang up and made his way over to you, leaning over and wrapping his arms around your upper body to reverse the damage. "Don't cry don't cry don't cry" His face shoved into the crook of your neck made you giggle with every word as his soft beard tickled your skin. "Soooooorrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyy I won't call you that ever again. I love it here, I love spending time with you, don't cry! Please don't cry!"

"If you squeeze me any harder I'm going to throw up all over you" You laughed as he quickly let you go and took a big step back.

"I can handle blood, gore, violence even, but if you throw up I promise I'll be throwing up too." He defensively put his hands up as if you were pointing a weapon at him.

"Somehow, that makes you even more human, Stevie." You giggled as he grabbed a blanked off the couch and wrapped it around himself and the top of his head so just his face was poking through. It was as if he was now trying to hide from the threat.

As he got cozy on the couch once more in his blanket cocoon and your legs thrown across his lap as he payed attention to the beginning of Cars playing on the TV, the warnings from every news broadcast played in your head. It took everything in you to not physically laugh out loud at the words 'if you see any of these individuals, do not approach. They are dangerous.'

You fell into more than comfortable silence as the movie played. It was hard not to let your mind wander around, thinking about how nice it was to take a step back from work for even just the day, and how nice it was to have someone like Steve to enjoy it with.

The silence was broken every once and a while when the two of you would laugh at a joke that not even an 8 year old would find funny, and sometimes he had a question and you had some pretty general commentary on the movie. He also kept letting out quiet little yawns.

You'd catch him out of the corner of your eye, his eyes would fall heavy then he'd blink them open super fast and shake his head to try and keep himself awake. Eventually the blanket slipped off the top of his head, and he'd kick his legs over the arm of the couch and scoot backwards to get a little more comfortable.

Taking into consideration all the information he provided you about his lack of sleep, it warmed your heart to see he felt comfortable enough around you to even feel this sleepy in the first place. You knew most nights he could barely even get himself to try closing his eyes before the sun rose. Now here he was, struggling to stay awake at 9pm on your couch.

He made it another fifteen minutes before his arm relaxed to his side and his head slouched to rest on the couch back, completely knocked out. You couldn't help the smile on your face every time he subconsciously made himself more comfortable. It didn't take long before he was sprawled out across the couch, his head landing on a pillow you placed right next to your lap as you already knew that's where he would inevitably wind up.

You kicked your feet up on the coffee table as you admired the way his hair had flopped over onto his face when he curled up on his side. Your mind and all its racing thoughts were far gone from the animated film on the screen in front of you as you wondered if he would have ever grown out his hair this long had it not been for the circumstances he was under.

You wanted to pull it back off of his face just to feel the soft strands running through your fingers and to admire his facial features a little better, but that was not a step you were willing to take while he was asleep. Besides, if you accidentally woke him up you'd never forgive yourself.

Regardless of the golden strands of hair obstructing your view, you did get to notice all the different colors that lived in his beard. Mostly brown with a twinge of blonde, a bit of red along the side of his cheek and a just a few grays that decided to make a guest appearance. Just as you noticed how long and beautiful his eyelashes were, he sucked in a big breath as if he was waking up.

Suddenly, a movie about silly little cars became the most interesting attention grabber in the whole world. But that big breath was accompanied by a stretch of his arm that so happened to land right on your lap.

Just as you looked down at it, he had stirred into some sort of half conscious state. He looked around and blinked a few times.

"Oh shit" he mumbled, barely being able to form words. "I should go home."

Yet he didn't move his arm away, nor did you think he even had the capacity to make it to his own bed at this point. If he did go home, you knew he wouldn't sleep.

"It's okay" You told him quietly, with a reassuring grin. "You're safe here."

His hand in your lap caught your eye again, but this time it was because it was moving, navigating the area trying to find yours. Your heart skipped a beat once it did, and you interlocked your fingers with his.

There was a small smile on his face as his eyes closed again. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You're okay." You reminded him once more, gently squeezing his hand. "I'll keep you safe"

He used it free hand to remove the pillow from underneath his head, and in one swift movement he rested his head in your lap. Your stomach filled with butterflies and your heart was now beaming with golden rays.

You took that as permission to pull the blanket up over his shoulders to assure he'd stay warm in the air conditioning, but after that you still weren't sure what to do with your free hand.

"Honey?" You whispered just in case he was already back in dreamland. He responded with a little grumble you could tell was his attempt at acknowledging your call for him. "Can I play with your hair?"

A smile immediately stretched across his lips as he lazily nodded. You're pretty sure he fell asleep again after just a few swipe throughs of your fingers in the growing length.

Somewhere between the warm weight of the soldier in your lap and the comfort of a Pixar film on the television, you had fallen asleep too. That wasn't something you even realized until you had woken up to the sound of your phone ringing.

You peeled your eyes open to see the sun had risen to its full potential, and somehow, some way, you were now laying down and pinned between the couch cushions and Steve's body.

His face was shoved into the crook of your neck and one of his strong arms was holding onto you nice and tight as if you would run away if he loosened his grip.

Unfortunately you had no time to bask in the glory of being cuddled by a big strong man before you had both been woken up by the sound of your obnoxiously loud ringing phone. The second he popped his head up and squinted his beautiful blue eyes to adjust to the sunlight, you were internally cursing whoever was trying to contact you with a eternal damnation. Surly if they knew just how long it had been since you felt a man's touch, nobody would've contacted you ever again.

Steve reached over behind him to grab you your phone as he mentally cursed himself for putting you in this position after he told himself to not act on his romantic feelings for you. He was walking you both down a dark and dangerous path of pain and heartbreak but he just couldn't get himself to stop.

You thanked him as you grabbed it from his hand, and immediately picked up as it was one of your bakers.

Steve sat up and sung his legs over the side of the couch by your hips. He slumped over and his face fell into his hands while he listened to half a conversation about how to troubleshoot the rack oven and what to do with all 13 trays of destroyed snickerdoodles for that one really important order.

He had to take big deep breaths to calm himself down as the sound of waking up to a phone ringing caused him an astronomical amount of anxiety. For just a few moments he was positive he was getting a call that would get him back in the suit to shut down an alien wormhole or delay the end of the world.

Somehow your supportive and calming words to your employees calmed him down too.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Things happen, I understand." You cooed over the phone. "I don't want you to stress about it. I can stay all night to bake whatever is left for that order, okay? It'll get done, I promise. There's nothing that we can't fix."

He could hear your employee stress-babbling something on the other end of the phone call, but none of that mattered. Not when you sat up and got right next to him when you noticed his body language.

You made sure there was no empty space between the sides of your bodies. Leg to leg, side to side, and your arm traveled up the plane of his back and gently squeezed the nape of his neck to try and comfort him while you sorted out whatever was happening at Nice To Be Kneaded.

Steve appreciated your efforts, but he also couldn't help but to feel like his lack of self control around you was also a source of his pounding heart and racing thoughts. Knowing he should probably provide an explanation for the cuddle fest last night led him to believe it might be time to set some boundaries with you.

His little slice of heaven would have to be put at arm's length away, on the highest shelf he couldn't reach even if he was on his tippy toes. If he had you out on the counter, he knew he would come back for a little more of you every time he passed by because just one more bite wouldn't hurt. But one kept turning to two, two to four, and before he knows it the both of you will be on complete opposite sides of the world as you harbored pure resentment for him.

Right now he might've looked like a bucket of sugar to you, but sugar and salt looked exactly the same the only difference being sugar doesn't sting when it's rubbed into wounds.

His mind ran away fast, the only rope he grabbed onto to pull him back into reality was your calming voice.

"Hey, Sweet Stevie." You squeezed his shoulder, trying to catch his attention.

He finally snapped out of his trance and his big eyes met yours. "Huh?"

"Are you okay?" You questioned although you already knew the answer.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine." He faked a smile.

"Really? I said your name three times before you responded." You raised an eyebrow.

This time Steve's lips pressed together in a straight line before a real grin spread across them. "I keep a burner phone in my pocket with some of the Avengers being the only ones with the number to it in case they need me." He explained. "Every day feels like a waiting game for the phone to ring- it's like sitting in a room with a bomb that's about to explode but you don't know when it'll be detonated."

"Ah-" You understood, your hand continued to rub circles on his back. "You thought there was an explosion?"

He nodded in confirmation as he thought about what to say next- how to let you down gently.

"False alarm" You stated, earning a hum in response.

All he wanted to do was let his head fall back onto your shoulder, pull you down onto his body and cover the both of you up so that you could get a few more hours of sleep. He wanted to avoid this gaping hole he always felt in his heart, he wanted to enjoy your company without guilt.

"Are you okay?" Steve reciprocated the questioned.

"Yeah" You giggled. "Sometimes the oven at the bakery likes to shoot up in temperature for no reason and bake cookies at 600 degrees Fahrenheit. That led to a snickerdoodle disaster and now we're about 320 cookies and six hours of work down from a huge order that's picking up tomorrow."

"How are you not stressed?" Steve questioned.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I'll get it done. I might be there until the sun rises but I'll get it done. I'd go in earlier but we only have so much space for so many people to be working at the same time, it would be more useful to just get there later and work in an empty kitchen."

"You're going to need more butter" Steve thought out-loud. "And eggs."

"And flour. And sugar. And cinnamon. But hey, at least I slept well last night!" You giggled and nudged his shoulder with yours.

It earned you a pretty smile and a shy blush on his cheeks. "If I had any intention of falling asleep I would've warned you that I'm a chronic cuddler." Steve defended himself. "All of the Avengers learned that the hard way, they all knew to avoid the general area I was sleeping in."

"Awwww. I'd like to imagine a time in which you and Bucky Barnes were spooning to keep nice and warm on a cold, cold night." You smiled as you teased.

"Oh, no, Bucky would not hesitate to push me onto the floor." Steve laughed.

"That's so mean! I could never!" You screeched. "Did you at least sleep well?"

"Scary good" The blush on his cheeks burned brighter. "Sorry for holding you hostage all night."

"More than fine by me." You smiled, still enjoying the lack of space between his body and yours. "I'm sorry you had to wake up like that. What a shitty way for you to have to start the day."

This time you let your head fall onto his shoulder, and your arm squeezed him into a delightful side hug. He reciprocated by wrapping his arm around you too and letting his head rest on yours.

Okay, just one more bite.

"I think this is the best way for me to start my day." Steve said. Now you were the one blushing, and that extra bite was worth all the sugary sweetness that made the endorphins bounce around in his brain. But could you blame him? You were just so damn scrumptious, maybe even addictive.

You so wished you could stay and enjoy the temptation snuggling you on the couch, but then a really depressing thought was at the forefront of your brain. "I have to source ingredients and make hundreds of snickerdoodles" You sighed.

"And teach your apprentice how to master the art of a snickerdoodle" He offered his help.

"Really?" You questioned, almost in disbelief. Not a day went by without you being so very appreciative of his ability to walk alongside you exactly when you needed him.

"Abs-dough-lutely" Steve joked.

"Oh you're a loser" You held back your smile.

Next part: Sunflower

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

Have any asks, or headcannons you want to see come to life about Nomad Steve and Baker Reader? Drop them in my inbox and I’ll write it! Check out extra Nice to be Kneaded more fun stuff bonus chapters here!

[bubble-popping]

okay this is kinda embarrassing bc i meant to post this a long time ago and just... Didn't.

More dnb gods au bc them <3

Truthfully, Techno didn't know why he stood here, hand hovering above the wood of a door. Even less did he understand why he felt so nervous about going in. The words 'Dream's Study' felt like a permanent 'do not disturb' sign. He knew how much he hated to be interrupted when he worked, especially for trivial matters such as a minor headache. Techno hadn't seen Dream for a while, and it was showing with how Chat nagged and clawed at his brain. He wasn't quite at the stage of attacking his dearest friends and causing major property damage because of their volume and relentlessness, but Dream had asked--pleaded, to be more precise--for him to visit before it got to that point. So, here he stood, trying to think of how to phrase his current predicament without sounding like a total loser. And Chat was not helping.

just knock?

man's forgot how to knock

bro forgor

E

E

average dork in love behavior

no u guys don't get it he's so normal about dream i promise

social anxiety L

L

LOL

L

L

"How do you nerds even know half those phrases? I don't say anythin' like that-" Before he knew it, the sound of squeaks and chirps emitted from behind the door. The Blobs' heightened senses never ceased to amaze him.

"What? Techno's outside? How-OW!"

Techno startled upon hearing the exclamation accompanied by a thud and finally kicked himself into gear, opening the door and peeking inside to see Dream standing up from behind his desk, cradling his horns and uttering more hisses of pain. "Dream? You alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine! Jus' bumped my head is all. I'm alright." The blond waved off his concern as he sank into his chair. "Is something up? Chat being loud again?"

The piglin god decided to step further into the room. He'd gone this far, might as well go the full mile. "Well, not at the moment now that you're, ya know, talkin'."

"Aw, they just missed me, huh?" Dream rested his head in his hand, smile smug and eyes scrunched.

YES

DREAM

DREAM POG

simps. every single one of you. me too.

GUYS SHUT UP I CAN'T FOCUS ON HIS PRETTY

pretty dreamie :)

WE AGREED ON DAYDREAM FOR THE NICKNAME IDOIT

**idiot lol

lol

LOL

Lol

LOL

"I didn't say all that. Don't get ahead of yourself, teletubby." As if Techno's absolutely scathing remark wasn't enough of a blow to the man's ego, several Blobs then decided it was their special moment to shine as they dropped down on Techno chirping and cooing not too unlike Phil's crows. He glanced up to see many more piled on a hammock above his head. The majority still soundly slept. Techno could only imagine what it'd look like if they were all awake.

"Hey! What have I told you guys about personal space?" Dream promptly stood from his chair and came over to brush the little Blobs off, a bright gold strong as sunshine glowing on his cheeks. It really didn't match the stern expression he was trying to show. "I'm so sorry about them. We're still working on that..." He didn't meet Techno's eyes as his hands swiped across his shoulders. Not even when he reached further up, lifting on the tips of his toes to pluck away the ones that had settled in his hair.

"They're not so bad. At least they're cute. Chat is just plain annoyin'," Techno grumbled.

WE'RE RIGHT HERE YA KNOW

techno hates us y'all

we're literally fixing your love life?

so ungrateful

Dream giggled softly, shaking his head. Only then did he meet Techno's gaze. "Chat isn't bad either. It's just like the Blobs, they're excitable. I think Chat's cool."

dream gets us y'all

omg he's looking at us guys

HE'S THINKS WE'RE COOL

i hope he wins the custody battle in the divorce

they aren't even married yet

praying on their downfall already is crazy

SHUT UP HE'S STILL TALKIMG

he stopped tho?

**talking

LOL

LOL

L

L

L

Techno pressed a hand to his temple, face twisting in discomfort. "You don't have to hear 'em all the time..."

Dream offered a sympathetic smile before he seemed to get an idea. "Would you like to rest with me while I fulfill some dream requests?"

"I don't wanna bother ya if you're workin'-"

"You wouldn't be a bother, ya big idiot. C'mon, I could use the company." He smiled sweetly, taking Techno by the arm with pretty green eyes begging from under long blond lashes. Naturally, Techno let himself be dragged away--but he still wasn't a simp, Chat, shut up--to a different corner of the office: an area that closely resembled a pillow fort.

Techno really had to duck down to enter it, clearly not built for a god his size. Inside was more spacious than it initially appeared. Made of many different colors and shapes of cushions, all draped with soft blankets, and partially bordered by the lower shelves of a bookcase. Dream easily found a spot to lay down, propped up and facing the curtain canopy. Techno squeezed against the nearest wall out of consideration for Dream's space, but regardless only managed a gap of mere inches. He too looked up, and when he did, he swore that nothing was above them at all. Tiny lights were strategically placed to emulate the night sky. Techno could even see certain constellations in the pattern.

"How did...?"

"Oh, some Blobs got into my glowstone dust by accident and they reminded me of stars, so I got this idea." And Techno believed him because when he squinted he saw, as his eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, many tiny Blobs hanging by thin threads with the proudest grins on their faces.

"Of course..." He huffed, smirking and shaking his head.

A comfortable silence succeeded his words, covering the pair in a particular kind of blanket. The kind that had Techno curiously glancing over to see Dream concentrating on a cloud held aloft by the green strings connected to his fingers.

"What's that one? If ya don't mind me askin'."

"Hm? Oh, well, usually I don't share other people's dreams. They're personal things, meant for your mind alone. But..." Dream got a small, almost mischievous smile on his face. "This one here is for one of my regulars."

"Regulars?"

"Mhm. I think she prays almost every night, always for the same thing. She's an old woman and recently her wife of almost 60 years passed away from an unfortunate accident. Do you know what she asks to dream of?"

Techno couldn't imagine knowing that much about a mortal. But then again, all those that prayed to him usually didn't live very long, so he supposed he just never got the chance to.

"What?"

"She just wants to speak with her again. Nothing else matters, except that she's there. They talk about so many things. Sometimes, they don't speak at all. Just sit there next to each other, enjoying the company. I've put them in all sorts of places. Relaxing on a beach, watching a fireworks display from afar, sitting on their rocking chairs in their living room..." He'd finished crafting the dream by then, offering it to one of the Blobs who devoured the cloud whole and promptly wiggled into the crevice of two pillows. Afterwards, he folded his hands atop his stomach and closed his eyes, smiling wistfully. "Such a sweet, pure love... I only hope someone will love me like that."

A heat unlike any other instantly filled Techno's cheeks.

ASDFGHJKL HE'S LITERALLY ASKING FOR IT

LET'S GOOO

KISS HIM YOU IDIOT

how did that guy make that sound

KISS

KISS

KISS

L matchmakers fr

wdym we're such W matchmakers

yeah he boutta get that sheep pus-

Techno quickly sat up from the comfortable pile onto his elbow, resolutely pushing that thought out of his head.

"Techno?" Dream looked to him, gaze wide and inquisitive. The piglin god turned to stare down at him, and though he knew he had to say something that might finally shut Chat up about this, the words got caught in his throat. Green eyes were simply too pretty, surrounded by freckles and waves of golden blond. A hand surprised him out of his admiring. Gentle fingers pushed the hair that had fallen into Techno's face behind his pointed ear then came to a rest at his cheek. "Something wrong?"

"No," he answered with a shake of his head, placing his hand upon Dream's and leaning into the touch. It still didn't make a lot of sense to him, why Dream was so tender towards him despite his reputation and prowess... Or, perhaps, because of it? Techno cherished it all the same. "Nothin's wrong. 'm just... 'm not sure how to, how to word-"

"Tech," the sheep god murmured, now cupping both of Techno's cheeks and wearing a bittersweet smile, "you don't have to force yourself. I was just thinking out loud. I wasn't trying to-"

"It's not that, I mean, well, it is, but-" He sighed, closing his eyes to collect himself before opening them with a renewed determination. "I get what you're sayin' and I feel the same way."

"You do?"

"Ya think I'd come just to make Chat shut up? That's just a sweet bonus, dude."

Dream giggled, a similar blush rising on his face. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means I... would really like to kiss ya, if you'll let me."

The blush immediately brightened to a shimmering gold. He pushed himself to a sit as well, closing the gap between them to barely a few inches. "I think I'd like that."

They both leaned in, heads tilting to accommodate the other, but when Techno connected with something, he knew it was not Dream's lips. A Blob had managed to slip in at the last second, squeaking happily. The two pulled back in equal astonishment, allowing the Blob to drop on Dream's lap.

Dream's expression rapidly soured. "You little-!" He snatched the Blob up, gripping its little body in a tight grasp. "That's it. You're all going in timeout now." With a snap of his fingers, all the Blobs including the ones that hung from the ceiling exploded into puffs of clouds, leaving the two in near total darkness aside from Dream's glowing eyes. "Much better. Now..." Hands suddenly grabbed Techno by the shoulders and twisted them so he was flat on his back and Dream was straddling his waist. His voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned in once again, bright green illuminating both their faces. "Where were we?"

[mister-eames]

how do you think arthur and eames would take in other slowly growing old.. I don’t see either of them as characters being insecure about themselves but how the other person would see it is kinda a mystery and exciting.. so how do you think it would go? hugs xx

Oh my goodness I love this question. I agree on them not being overly insecure in themselves - not much, or too seriously, at least. They may lament a thing here or there but nothing that would take up too much mental space.

I know it sounds a bit cliche, but overall I think they'd fall more in love with each other, tbh. Growing older is a sign of survival against an often unkind world. Of experience. It's the sexiest fucking thing in the world to see your SO earn those signs of age alongside you, to say you made it, you keep making it, despite everything life has thrown at you, you are strong enough to survive.

Though, at first, I can see Arthur having a sort of existential crisis about it.

Not because he finds Eames any less attractive. On the contrary, he loves Eames extra padding, the changes in him; the very real markers that signify that they both have survived and they are experiencing this very real privilege to get older and to do it together; that they get to share a life, full of good and bad memories - to trust someone with who you were, who you are, and who you are going to be.

But in that same regard, I can see it finally hitting Arthur in a very real way (kind of the way it hits all of us); oh... our time here is actually limited... isn't it.

Perhaps it's when they're no longer in dreamshare, risking their lives, but it occurs to Arthur in a strange, sudden sense that some day the world will go on without them. That they are in fact, mortal, despite cheating death so often in their dreams and in real life too.

Arthur might be having this crisis at 35 or 45 (probably has it every ten years after his mid-thirties tbh) and he has literal decades ahead of him, but their own own mortality really hits him. He knew, intellectually, and with Mal and Dom, and with others in his life, that nothing is guaranteed. It's just... he feels like he has earned this life with Eames, after all they've been through together and personally, and it's not even that they're geriatric or "old" by any means, but the signs are there - they are not getting younger. They are visibly growing older. There's the greys, and the aches, and the weight gain here, the fat loss there.

The fact is plain and simple with life: there is no turning this car around.

Time is a real thing. One day it starts tick-tick-ticking away very loudly in Arthur's brain, like a bomb about to go off, setting off the same kind of panic in Arthur that says do something about it -- but there is nothing to be done about it. That's the worst part. It's just life, and not even Arthur, point man extraordinaire can mitigate it or stop it.

So Eames unearths the source of Arthur's panic after Arthur takes up three new languages, asks Eames for the fiftieth time if he's sure he won't regret not having kids, dyes his hair to get rid of the greys, takes up trumpet lessons and books them a cruise or seven - and then Eames is utterly bewildered by Arthur's heightened state of existential panic because he's not even fucking old, they've never been better or happier.

At first, Eames is like, "Calm down, dear. Complain to me when we have liver spots and we're both using walkers to get around. Old is just a state of mind."

Arthur, in the midst of frantically planning a new diet for them both sans-alcohol, is not amused.

So Eames asks him, "What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know... losing time, I guess." Arthur replies. "Or... not making the most of it."

To which Eames asks plainly, fondly, "Aside from spending your days panicking, what are you gonna do about that? What do you need to do, at the end of it all, on your final day, to look back and say 'I regret nothing'?"

"I..."

"Ask yourself: what does your life without regrets look like?"

Arthur thinks, and after a long pause says:

"I... need us to live... exactly as we are now."

"That's good."

"Maybe tell you I love you more."

"And I will do the same."

Arthur takes the deepest breath he's had in days.

Then Eames adds, "By the by, I hear that not being on your husbands back about folding laundry is the key to a long, happy life."

"Nice try," Arthur rolls his eyes, taking his beloveds face in his hand and kissing that cheeky smile. "Speaking of which. I hear helping your husband fold the laundry does wonders for longevity."

--

The press of his lips against Eames and the quiet laughter between them in that moment, is one he never forgets.

--

Later, once all the laundry is folded and they're enjoying a glass of wine, Eames will Arthur that he is wrong. They are not losing time - that every day is more time they gain together.

Arthur will concede that Eames is right, sometimes.

--

As for Eames, well. He has all the pride, heart growing with love, etc etc, but you best believe he has several canvases and sketches and papers with a timeline of every iteration of Arthur, a visual chronicle of a beautiful man, drawn by Eames, over time, in varying mediums.

Not to say Eames has never felt strange about growing older, or Arthur growing older. But he's very much at peace with it, and earned the ability to be at peace with life - and himself. He's not afraid, not when there is so much to look forward to, and so much to learn.

And so many more versions of Arthur to appreciate and adore; on paper, and in person.

--

They both take the other ageing as something wonderful, something to be cherished. We only get one chance to get old, after all, but we get near endless chances to grow older. They don't get it right every day -- that is to say that sometimes life is an alarm clock that you get up and get on with on first ring, and sometimes in life you just press snooze and both is okay -- but they get it right often enough that they can call theirs 'a life, lived'.

So, yeah, they fall deeper and deeper in love with all the signs of age on each other -- it's all the time they've had, and all the incredible time they still have to gain.

[bleeding-star-heart]

These tags on a reblog of my Anders analysis are another problem I have with DA:2's writing

#god i have so many feelings about this#cuz i romanced anders my first playthrough#and i hated that our relationship did a 180 as soon as I was like#“im not gonna let you gaslight me into doing war crimes”#was it OOC?#i don't know#I can't say#I haven't studied anders as a character or taken the time to contemplate him enough to speak on it#but i just know it was such a turn off that i started a new game entirely EDIT: I have removed the word "gaslighting" from this meta owing to the fact that technically, Anders isn't gaslighting, because gaslighting is something different. Gaslighting being trying to make someone doubt their perception of reality, among other things. What Anders ACTUALLY does falls under emotional manipulation. I would say to the OP that yes, indeed, this is VERY "out of character", so to speak. Most definitely for JUSTICE, the spirit inhabiting Anders's body. But also for Anders as well. Think about it: emotionally manipulating one's romantic partner is an inherently unjust thing to do. It is not something two people who respect and love each other do. Yet the spirit of Justice is completely silent when it happens. A being that supposedly embodies nothing but Justice simply...allows his host to guilt his lover into doing something they disagree with. He does not protest or try to stop Anders from engaging in a truly toxic form of emotional manipulation. If written properly, Justice should immediately have called Anders out on this. Which should prompt either an apology from Anders or a long, seemingly one-man argument between the two. But that doesn't happen. In fact, Justice only shows up if you, as Anders's rival, manage to turn him AGAINST blowing up the Chantry. And then, only to railroad Anders back into the role of terrorist. This, combined with Justice's general lack of reaction to any injustice or violation of rights that DOESN'T have to do with mages, causes him to become little more than a cheap plot device. Now as to why I don't believe a properly written Anders would do it, either. Anders at this point in the story is a revolutionary, yes. He is passionate about his cause. But he is also MORE than that. And part of that 'more'-and also WHY he's a revolutionary-is that he was a victim of a controlling, emotionally manipulative institution. One that bombards people like him with all kinds of unhealthy messaging. Messages like: the outside world is guaranteed to hate you, your (unchangeable) nature is inherently wrong and sinful. As well as: you can't trust yourself at all, you are one bad day from being a monster, you need to let us control you for your own good. Anders probably saw more than one person like Keili-that girl in the Mage Origin who actively believes she's evil and prays to 'not be a mage'. He probably encountered a lot of mages with varying degrees of religiously based self-loathing. He probably had some himself. And he lived in the Ferelden Circle. He's also a person who not only left a toxic institution, but actively sees and complains about how toxic the institution is. People who've suffered from toxic environments/relationships and RECOGNIZE how toxic those environments/relationships were, tend to value healthy relationships/environments. They try and work on themselves to remove any lingering psychological effects of that toxicity. It is highly likely that Anders would NOT want to repeat the kind of emotional manipulation he and others were subjected to. While he might not agree with Hawke about methods, Anders would not believe guilt to be a good tactic because guilt is one of the very tactics the Chantry used on him! Guilt about being a target for demonic possession, guilt about what the magisters did, guilt about being a mage in general.

Guilting his partner into agreeing with him, is, essentially, him doing what the Chantry did to him. And if the writers had put any thought into his character, they would have realized that too. And thus, if they were smart, or and simply give the player the option to permanently decline the quest with no negative consequences. The other option is to lean into that, and purposefully make it a character flaw, that he's too blinded by trauma to see that. But the writers did NOT have the time to be able to successfully pull that off. Thus, yeah. They make Anders, who suffered from religious based emotional manipulation...into someone who emotionally manipulates his partners. Which is yet another thing done in the name of a less-than-stellar ending and plot beat. EDIT: I have removed the word "gaslighting" from my part of this meta owing to the fact that technically, Anders isn't gaslighting Hawke, because gaslighting is something different. Gaslighting being trying to make someone doubt their perception of reality, among other things. What Anders ACTUALLY does falls under emotional manipulation. Which I still don't believe a properly written Anders OR Justice would do, for the reasons stated above.

[abyssleaves]

Why I'll Be Remaining in the Lurking For Love Community

Ok.

Honestly, I really don't want to make this.

I'm way too old for fandom drama, and I don't need to be making myself a target. My gut is telling me that it's a bad idea to get involved, and I'm inviting trouble for myself by posting this.

But the most recent post against Tom is just ridiculous and I can't not speak my piece.

I'm not linking to it or reblogging it because I don't want to send hate anyone's way, and honestly because I'm going to block them as soon as this is posted. You can read mine and theirs for yourself and decide what you think.

As far as the “anti-Latino” posts that Tom liked, I can't speak to whether they do damage, or what Tom’s views actually are. I am not Latino, and I'm not Tom. It's not my place. But I will say I was aware of those posts long before I saw that “callout” post, and it's because multiple Latino artists I follow liked and retweeted them. At the time, I was given to understand that they were satirizing the fact that both were styles of stereotypes, but one was acceptable while the other was not, despite both being bad. I can't say, based on just those tweets, that I see any anti-Latino sentiment in Tom. I'm willing to admit that my knowledge on that front isn't bomb-proof.

The second point, well... I'm sorry to the friend that feels used. They're entitled to be hurt. And I will readily admit that I'm only able to respond to the info within that post. Maybe there IS more to it.

But I don't think that Tom ceasing contact over the hormones is surprising at all, from a mental health standpoint. Put yourself in his shoes: you're a trans person in US, which is its own struggle, and you've reached your mid/early 20s without being able to attain gender-affirming care. Now someone years younger than you just got the thing you want more than anything else. Sure, you might be happy for them. But that is also going to hurt, horribly. You really have three options:

1) stay friends and smother the bitterness/possible resentment. That will either end up ruining your mental health, or coming out and ruining the friendship anyway.

2) Ask your friend not to tell you/post about their transition. That makes it about you and also ruins something that should make them happy.

3) Distance yourself.

Maybe he should have spoken more directly with you about his feelings, granted. But, Tom has not been shy about the fact that he struggles with his mental health. None of us handle every situation well. As far as his occasional venting, I would think, if you WERE his friend, you might have some compassion, and either cease contact if the friendship is not fulfilling, or accept his sincere, well-written apology (Which are the ONLY words straight from Tom’s mouth on the entire fucking post).

Instead, you got the apology from him, and then shared a bunch of gossip between you and another friend, and outed your interpretations of his vent sessions to the world. That's not exactly classy, posting about how he sought people he felt safe with during a time when a big chunk of the community he built is telling him to do horrible things to himself.

I want to make it clear that I don't agree with all of Tom’s views as expressed on his initial explanation post. Again, many of them are issues that I don't feel are my place to get involved in, and therefore I stayed quiet at the time.

I'm aware that the justified and intense hurt felt by people in those communities can mean that even differing opinions feel like a slap in the face. You have every right to see Tom’s views as hurtful and choose to leave, and/or make a separate community for support. I don't blame people who are in those communities for doing so. This post is aimed at the obsessed minority that won't leave the tag/remaining fans/Tom alone.

All of the above being said, the reaction to Tom’s post is the most “touch grass” thing I have ever seen.

Tom liking one or two comics from a dark-humor comic artist so widespread on the internet that I didn't even know he had an actual page, or anything about him as a person (something Tom also stated) = Tom is a Nazi sympathizer.

Tom saying “I don't care for neopronouns, but I won't attack you for using them and will respect what everyone wants to be called” = Tom is a monstrous bigot.

The racism accusation has me especially 💀. All because he liked a post about help from an unexpected source and that we should be kinder to each other.

How on earth are you going to tell a POC that he doesn't know what racism is because he’s NOT THE RIGHT KIND OF POC? Do you hear yourself?

(FWIW, I also don't agree with kink at pride. Sorry. LGBTQ+ people are not "narsty little freaks"--yeah I SAW that post--they're people. They can be kinky, they can be vanilla, whatever. Kink has nothing to do with your orientation, and therefore it isn't part of Pride. Also, my guys, if you're having public sex/being nude at pride for kink reasons, then you're not part of the healthy kink community: safe, sane, and CONSENSUAL. Nobody around you consented to that. Similarly, while I feel that sex education for minors should be normalized in order to give them better tools to tell when they're being groomed, seeing strangers with no pants on is NOT education, that's involving minors in your fetish. And that's fucking gross. )

The LGBTQ+ community in the US is in a lot of trouble right now, and we have a very bad habit of eating our own. We divide and subdivide and allow ourselves to be carved up by a united conservative front.

We do not allow for differing levels of leftist beliefs, and we constantly accuse each other of being not POC/leftists/queer enough, or being the wrong kind, or using a term for ourselves that some other individuals don't like. A great deal of the bullying leveled against him is justified by others saying that he's choosing to support a party that will turn on him and cause him and others like him harm.

Well, to be honest, the only community I see doing that right now is this one.

The amount of disingenuous “OMG, just FYI everyone to everyone hurt by [situation], I’M not transphobic/a bigot, you're all welcome here 😌” posts from people, who did not read his post, did not link to or quote his post. Disgusting. You know very well that nothing in his explanation or in his actions throughout his time in the community pointed to any abuse ON HIS PART towards trans people, non-binary people, people of the Jewish faith, or POC. You're virtue signaling, you're putting lambs blood above your door to keep the baying mob away.

This is insane. When did differing opinions turn into this? You don't have to agree with Tom’s views on anything. You're welcome to not follow his accounts, not like his art, not buy his game. If you feel that his opinions are too severely different from yours, you should be allowed to leave the fandom without people telling you that you should do bad things to yourself because your opinions don't match theirs (sound familiar?).

But…please. Can we stop with this awful parasocial obsession with his personal page? You can't lie to yourself and call it anything other than literal stalking. It's creepy as hell, and it reflects more on you than on him, in the long run. People might agree with your outrage, but deep down, they're afraid of being the next target, and they stay quiet out of fear that you'll stalk them next and send a mob hurling abuse their way.

To Tom, I'm sorry that this happened to you. You didn't deserve anything even close to this level of vitriol and abuse. You started from scratch and created a character and story that I feel was something truly unique. You reached an incredible number of people's hearts with Lurking for Love and Jacob, and no matter what happens from here with both of them, you deserve to feel proud of that. I hope that you are ok. Being a public figure on the internet doesn't mean you don't have a right to private opinions or even just general privacy.

I'm not tagging any characters in this. I'm only tagging the game because I hope other fans get to see that they're not alone. I don't believe the tags should be polluted this way. If you have to discuss a creator, it should be in his tag and not in a fandom space.

I'm aware that there will be deliberate bad-faith readings of this, or nitpicking of things I didn't cover. Whoever wants to, go ahead and respond, but I've said what I came to say, and I have nothing more to add. My inbox is closed and I love the block button.

[jojojoy1]

Ajax Petropolus x reader

Summary: you're one of the most popular students at nevermore. You're best friends with Bianca, Yoko(whom is also your roommate), Divina and Kent. However, you are dating Ajax Petropolus, who is shy and quiet, totally not the kind of person you normally surround yourself with. To keep your popularity, you keep your relationship with Ajax a secret. He was fine with that at the beginning, but now he wants to tell people.

You were stood with your best friends, Bianca, Kent, Yoko and Divina, at the fountain, talking about whatever. You had been dating Ajax Petropolus for 3 months now, however, none of your friends knew. You're one of the most popular students at nevermore, Ajax isn't. While you love Ajax, he just doesn't fit your persona. He had agreed to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to be with you, but maybe he wants more.

Ajax POV

I just stared at her. She is so beautiful, I want to go up to her and kiss her right now. But I can't do that cuz I'm not cool enough to be her boyfriend publicly.

3 months ago I thought I was making the right decision when I said we could keep it a secret, but it's killing me. Not even my friends know, and I hate lying to them.

"Ajax! Dude!" Xavier shouted at me, hitting me around the head, "You listening?"

"Of course he's not," Spoke Enid, "He's to busy staring at Y/N" She teased.

"I wasn't staring," I whisper, looking at the table, "I was glancing."

"Dude, you're totally in love with her."

"Go away," I turn to Wednesday hoping she will jump in and change the topic.

"Why don't you ask her out?" Enid exclaims.

"Yeah, take her into Jericho this weekend!" Xavier agrees.

"Guys, can we drop this?" I say. If we continue talking about Y/N I'm gonna tell them everything and she'll be pissed at me.

"Fine," Enid finally backs down, "So, Poe Cup is coming up,"

I stop listening to what their all talking about now. I need to talk to Y/N. I can't keep hiding this anymore.

Normal POV

You were sat in your dorm with Yoko when you got a text from Ajax,

'I'm coming over, we need to talk'

You were confused to say the least. Your relationship was perfect, what could he possibly need to talk to you about.

"Hey, you okay?" Yoko asked when you didn't respond.

"Yeah, fine. Umm, Yoko, Can I cash in one of my 'need you to leave the dorm' tickets."

"Yeah, I'll just go hang with Divina. Was that text really that bad."

"Yeah. Thanks by the way," You say as Yoko grabs a couple things before leaving.

"Sure, Don't worry about it."

...

10 minuets after Yoko left, you here a knock at your door. You get up and open it, and by no surprise Ajax is stood there looking the most stressed ever. He didn't wait for you to let him in, he just walked past you over to your bed.

"A 'hello' would be nice" You say, sarcastically.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, about what? Everything is fine."

"No it's not!" Ajax had never yelled at you before, it took you by surprise.

"Don't shout at me. Let's talk this through." You walk over to your bed and sit down, encouraging Ajax to do the same.

Ajax sits and puts his head in his hands.

"I want to tell people about us. I want to tell my friends that I'm dating the most beautiful girl in school. I want to stop lying to people. I want to stop feeling like my own girlfriend is embarrassed by me."

You sit in shock at the small outburst. Ajax was a very laid back guy, he would just go with the flow, so these sudden demands of your relationship was a surprise.

"Babe-"

"No! No no no no" Ajax lifted his head from his hands and it was obvious he was crying. "We're not doing the whole 'we'll tell them soon, just give it time' spiel. I'm done waiting. Either we tell them tomorrow morning at breakfast or we break up 'cause it feels like I mean nothing to you. Every time I see you in the quad I always look at you in hope of you acknowledging me, but you don't. Then I have to act like nothing's going on between us when Xavier or Enid says something. It's not fair Y/N. I don't want to keep hiding us. I deserve better. I deserve someone who isn't embarrassed to be seen with me. After I texted you, how long did it take for you to tell Yoko to leave?"

"Ajax I-"

"How long Y/N?"

"Almost immediately" You whisper, embarrassed.

"Y/N, do you really want to be with me?"

"Yes. Yes, of course I do."

"Then start acting like it 'cause I'm not waiting forever."

"We'll tell everyone tomorrow, I promise."

...

The next morning, when you and Yoko left your dorm to walk down to breakfast to meet up with Bianca, Kent and Divina, Ajax made a surprise visit. He was stood outside your dorm waiting for you. When you walked out the door he wrapped his hands around your waist, "Hey, babe."

You got very nervous as you still hadn't told Yoko about you and Ajax, "Hey" You said and kissed him on the cheek.

"So this is the mystery man I had to keep leaving the dorm for." Yoko chuckled, "Not who I expected, but better than what I thought."

"Who did you think I was dating?" You asked, curious.

"Bianca, Divina and I thought you and Kent were hooking up. But this is way better."

"Is that why Divina's been pissed at me recently?"

"Yeah, but she'll be happy you're not fucking her brother."

"We going to breakfast then?" Ajax said.

"Yeah, let's go" You said.

The walk to breakfast was better than you had anticipated. When you walked into the quad to find Bianca, Divina and Kent all eyes turned to you and Ajax holding hands. You guessed Yoko had messaged Bianca on the way down as your normal table was pulled over to make one big table with Xavier, Enid and Wednesday.

You walked over, Yoko going to the other side of the table to sit next to Divina, and of course Bianca had to say something, "Well hello lovebirds!" she semi-shouted as you sat down next to her, Ajax next to Xavier.

"Fuck off." You said, jokingly.

"Morning." Divina said, with the biggest smile you had ever seen.

"You look happy." You teased, laughing.

"I'm very happy." Divina replied.

"SO HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON THEN!?!" Enid yelled in excitement, "'Cause if I'm not mistaken, just yesterday Ajax was seriously pining over Y/N?!"

"We've been going out for 3 months now." Ajax said, a smile covering his entire face.

"THREE! THREE WHOLE MONTHS AND I HAD NO CLUE!" Enid shouted again

"Enid, can you be quieter, soon only dogs will be able to here you." Wednesday said in her same monotone voice.

"Sorry." Enid whispered.

You all eat breakfast and talked until you had to go to class.

Every morning from now on, Ajax would meet you at your dorm and you, him and Yoko would walk to breakfast together, and the tables were always pushed together for you all to sit together. You couldn't be happier, telling everyone was the best decision you had ever made.