A/N: Hello!! Thank you so much for doing an exchange with me <3 it was super fun to write for TWD and Hannibal again!
For The Walking Dead, You’ve been matched up with… Daryl Dixton!
☆ Daryl would honestly love how comfortable you are with solitude because he’s someone who doesn’t feel pressured to fill silence with meaningless chatter. You two could spend hours doing separate things in the same room without it feeling awkward — you reading or sketching while he fixed something nearby. He’d start associating quiet with comfort because of you, which is rare for him. Foggy mornings with coffee would become unintentionally romantic rituals. He’s not overly verbal, but his version of affection is staying close without asking anything from you. Eventually, people would notice he gets oddly calmer around you.
☆ At first, Daryl genuinely would not know if you hated him or liked him because your sarcastic flirting would confuse the hell out of him. You’d say something mildly concerning or bluntly out-of-pocket, and he’d just stare for a second before giving the tiniest amused huff. Over time, he starts firing sarcasm back, which is basically his equivalent of flirting. The teasing becomes weirdly domestic. If someone else misunderstands your humor or gets offended, Daryl is the first to shut it down. He secretly likes that you’re sharp enough to keep him on his toes.
☆ You strike him as independent to the point of stubbornness, which would annoy him because he sees right through the “I’m fine” act. He’d never infantilize you, though — that’s exactly why it works. Instead of taking over, he helps quietly: fixing broken things around your apartment, carrying heavier items without making a thing out of it, checking your car without mentioning it. If you’re overwhelmed in loud environments or dissociating, he notices before you say anything. He’d simply mutter, “C’mon,” and guide you somewhere quieter. No questions unless you want them.
☆ Daryl would surprisingly love your neat apartment full of plants, books, and weird little cameras. At first he’d pretend not to care, but then suddenly he remembers which plants need more sunlight and waters them while you’re busy. He’d tease you for owning eight cameras but secretly pose badly in pictures because he likes that you’re taking them. Horror movies become your thing together. He acts unimpressed, but somehow always ends up watching. The calm, slightly gloomy atmosphere of your space would feel safer to him than he’d admit.
☆ The slow-burn is insane here because neither of you opens up quickly. Daryl respects your boundaries immediately, which ironically makes you trust him faster. Once trust is established, though? This man is attached. Shoulder touches turn into absent-minded hand holding, and eventually he becomes someone who gravitates toward you physically without thinking about it. Late-night cuddles after emotionally exhausting days become routine. Nobody would believe how soft he actually is with you.
☆ You’d randomly start talking about some medically fascinating but slightly horrifying pathology fact while drinking coffee, fully expecting him to tune out. Instead, Daryl listens because he likes hearing you talk — especially when you’re passionate. He’d probably look mildly disturbed half the time but also deeply impressed by how smart you are. If someone underestimated you professionally, he’d be irrationally annoyed about it. You’d definitely catch him bragging about you indirectly to people. Something like: “She’s smart as hell.”
☆ Neither of you is backing down easily, which means arguments could be intense but weirdly productive. Daryl hates fake behavior, and so do you, so issues actually get addressed instead of danced around. You’d both need cooling-off periods before talking things through. The difference is that neither of you likes emotional dramatics, so it becomes blunt honesty rather than yelling. You calling him out on self-isolation would absolutely happen. He’d hate hearing it because you’d be right.
☆ Daryl absolutely seems like someone who “doesn’t do romantic stuff,” but then one day he brings you flowers in the most awkward way possible. Probably wildflowers he noticed while out somewhere because he remembered you like them. No speech, no grand gesture — he just awkwardly hands them over and acts annoyed about it. After that, it quietly becomes a thing. You’d start pressing flowers into books or photographing them. He notices every single time.
For Hannibal, You’ve been matched up with… Will Graham
☆ The intellectual chemistry here would be so ridiculous. You’re both introspective, observant, emotionally private, and drawn toward darker subject matter without necessarily being consumed by it. Conversations that start at midnight somehow become three-hour discussions about morality, death, symbolism in horror media, or bizarre human behavior. Neither of you would find the other “too much.” Your dark humor would genuinely make him laugh — the quiet kind where he looks surprised he even did. The emotional intimacy would creep up without either of you noticing.
☆ Will would deeply understand your social battery because his is equally fragile. Neither of you would pressure the other into being overly social, which makes the relationship feel peaceful instead of demanding. If gatherings get overwhelming, there’s this silent mutual understanding to leave early or disappear somewhere quieter. You’d probably sit in kitchens during parties while everyone else socializes elsewhere. Honestly, both of you would rather stay in anyway. Rainy days indoors feel ideal.
☆ At first glance, Will would absolutely read you as intimidating, reserved, maybe slightly hard to approach. But because he’s unusually perceptive, he’d notice the “mush inside” before most people do. The giddy, chatty side of you when comfortable would completely catch him off guard in the best way. He’d quietly adore how animated you get discussing books, horror, or photography. You’d eventually become one of the few people he feels genuinely safe unmasking around. Which is huge for him.
☆ Your pathology interest mixed with your fascination with the macabre would fascinate Will, who already sees humanity through a darker, analytical lens. You’d have strangely comforting discussions about uncomfortable topics that would horrify normal people. Horror movies become comfort media nights. You’d absolutely pause films to debate symbolism or realism. Somehow, it feels cozy rather than disturbing.
☆ Will doesn’t strike me as immediately physically affectionate, but once trust forms, he’d lean into closeness more than expected. You’d probably be the person who sees him at his quietest and most vulnerable. Reading together while touching somehow becomes peak intimacy. He’d rest against you without saying much after hard days. Since physical affection matters to you, he’d make an effort even if it takes time. The relationship would feel very “private world only we understand.”
☆ Because you’re direct and opinionated, you’d actually push back on Will instead of tiptoeing around him. He’d appreciate that more than he admits. You wouldn’t romanticize his self-destructive tendencies or let him spiral unchecked. Meanwhile, he’d notice when your perfectionism turns cruel toward yourself and gently call it out. Neither of you enables the other’s worst habits. It’s emotionally honest in a way that feels grounding.
☆ Urban dark academia with soft goth elements? Books? Plants? Moody weather? Will would absolutely thrive there. He’d quietly notice the scent of your perfume, the organization, the dark nail polish, the silver jewelry — all those small details he canonically pays attention to. He’d definitely take candid photos of you when the lighting looks cinematic. Foggy mornings and coffee become strangely sacred. Your home turns into a refuge from the noise of everything else.
☆ This relationship would start with painfully indirect chemistry. You flirt through sarcasm, and Will on the other hand flirts through oddly specific observations and concern. The tension would be unbearable for everyone else watching. You’d both accidentally start acting like a married couple before officially dating. One day someone points it out and both of you deny it immediately. Meanwhile, you’re already sharing books, coffee, and emotional vulnerabilities like it’s second nature.
so sorry it took me a while to reblog this, but oh my God!
i loooove both daryl and will so much, i was so happy to see them as the results. seriously, i saw daryl and i was so hyped. and then i saw will— man, you spoiled me with this one.
very very very nicely written, i love how you incorporated so much info!
Hi!!! I just found your blog and as soon as I saw Geralt and Thorin I knew this was a safe space!!! I can't wait to peruse your lovely masterpieces!!! [Your blogs vibe is so lovely as well!!!]
hey there. thank you, this means a lot! unfortunately i'm not writing much for the witcher and the hobbit these days, but ahh... i do miss those guys, hahah.
i finally made it to season 3 of daredevil ( IT'S SO GOOD TO FINALLY BE HERE ) and i knew dex was a stalker, but the same pizza slice in his car is insane behaviour.
i'm familiar with most of his scenes because i spoiled myself too hard before getting to this point, but finally seeing him with the full context hits way different and ugh, i'm having the time of my life.
watching daredevil season 2 and the scene where frank castle guards karen's body with his own in the damn rain of bullets has rearranged my brain and its chemistry.
i need to study but i am allowing myself little, self-indulgent thoughts of dex on a sunny saturday morning with the apartment already scrubbed and cleaned. nonetheless, there are inevitable specs of dust flowing around in the rays of sun. bed is made, old bedsheets are washed and drying on the rack on the balcony. you've just poured hot coffee in simple, but matching cups. wearing low-effort and comfy clothes, cotton soft against the skin. fingers playing with the edge of his white tank top and that makes him smile against the rim of his cup before he takes your hand and kisses the knuckle of your index finger. you could make some banana bread. probably will soon. but for now you're just enjoying the coffee and morning light and time shared at the kitchen table.
hello there! this was fun to put together (although your match here is so different from the mcu match i had in mind, it's funny). it's always a delight to work with you, converse with you, and read from you. i really hope you like this!
i’m matching you with જ⁀➴ ♡ fushiguro megumi !
staying home, escaping from big gatherings. writing on your laptop while he brings both of you black coffee. le ballet de l`oubli by lo mimieux. photos of his messy hair, tall buildings, coffee mugs. cameras in his backpack. putting salve on wounds. teenage crushes. fresh flowers put in a slender vase on the table, ever-changing, never staying wilted. watching a movie before bed. walking in the city, talking, late at night. wearing his jacket. looking at the city from a high place. understanding from one shared look in crowds. amateur chess maneuvers. cleaning, splitting tasks. learning together.
megumi is introverted and mostly quiet himself; a kind of confident, deliberate quietness. you two would be comfortable around each other, and he would understand you. he wouldn’t get offended by how you were cold when you first met, and how you can become distant around people sometimes. just existing around each other in silence would be easy, and talking when you feel like it would come naturally.
you have your similarities, he also is blunt and direct, and does not shy away from bold choices, and their consequences. there would not be many misunderstandings between you two, if any at all. you would match each other’s energy in almost every situation. (sometimes become dangerously wild during fights, but i disgress.) megumi would love getting to know you deeper, and getting to watch you become more talkative, more open with him. he’s not as soft on the inside as you, but he would match your energy every time, as that has been the case since the start; you understand each other. you just click.
your love would be mutually growing, not instant, but built with time and through shared moments. the transformation of your friendship into something romantic would just happen in time, naturally and subtly, until you both would become comfortable with the idea, without really needing to talk about it. (you would talk about it, of course, at some point, but you both would know the nature of your relationship by then.)
he would love you for your strong character, quiet confidence, and the loyalty and affection reserved for those you love. he would be able to discuss situations objectively with you, get honest opinions, and give his in return. he’s quite good at sarcasm, and does use it considerably often; you would have many opportunities to joke around with him. an off-hand comment, a small joke about something he’s observed, or a situation that’s transpired, said to each other in a low voice, would get both of you to smile. in fact, how much more he smiles at / around you (and you, around him) would surprise most outsiders.
i imagine you could be… somewhat unhinged in a battle, too, if you were to fight against curses. the two of you would work well as a team, understanding the steps the other one would take with just glaces. he wouldn’t be prone to throwing away his life so easily in a relationship with you, though. he would want to come back to you, coffee cup in your hand, apartment tidied up and spotless. he would be protective of you, as well, everyone in his friend group would know: any curse stupid enough to come close to you is a dead curse.
you would know, that no matter what you do, there is megumi —standing by your side, not loud about it, but steadily there, trustworthy. even if you ever got in trouble for your bold moves, even if you became tired and dissociated, even if you failed. his stance wouldn’t change, you would find him giving you logical advice, and watching the city lights as normal.
for @oyavoyage › match-up trades › hello again! very glad to be writing with you once more, hehe. hope you enjoy this little opinion of mine.
— your match: jaime lannister.
smell of salt in the air. gold. rosemary. strolls through the gardens. candles lit on the desk littered with books. horseback riding together. sound of hooves stepping over stone trails. slowly simmering affection. respect. astronomical by svrcina. fragile, intimate moments of vulnerability. reassuring caresses on the hand or back. lips parted ever so slightly in sheer admiration. a moment of breathlnessness and awe. words trapped on the tip of the tongue. kisses on the temple. yearning. growth. the patient kind of love. a white daffodil against his golden armor. the knight chess piece.
on the surface, it doesn't sound quite right that jaime lannister — the golden boy himself — is your match. however, you could find yourself surprised by how deeply these waters can run.
initially, there is not much of a spark; jaime lannister is too flashy, too mighty, too cocky for someone such as yourself who seems more withdrawn, more observant, and more cordial. that does not mean that he is spared from the honourable duty of accompanying you in the gardens of the red keep. you seem to enjoy the breeze there — it keeps the air just cool enough, and you find it preferable as opposed to the harsher winds you've experienced whilst travelling in the north.
you're an odd thing for jaime — not swooning, not batting your lashes, hair cut so unusually short. he wonders where his brother had found you — because, of course, tyrion was the one to take note of your wits and invite you in for banter and knowledge. it takes both of you a painfully long while to conjure up a proper, meaningful conversation, but it happens at some point. for all his flashiness, jaime lannister had been brought up to be an extremely knowledgeable man, after all. should you find yourself looking for a book, or pondering over a question, chances are that jaime knows how and where to direct you. it's one of the first cracks to shatter the facade between the two of you. neither of you can even recall the moment at which things seemed to take a turn — it just happened, and now jaime bears a newfound reputation of a genuinely decent partner for conversing.
jaime falls first, slowly. it creeps up on him. he doesn't know what it is at first, but there is something about the way you speak to the others with a certain amount of empathy and kindness. there is something in the proud smile that tugs at your lips after you've done something well, or received praise because your hands have aided someone, somehow. jaime has been so lost in his affairs, so quietly jaded in the cold gold that seeing someone so good stirs something in him. it's the way you stick to your principles, to your ways, to your honour. it reminds him of the starks.
he finds himself gravitating around you more and more — seeking your company, seeking your words, your observations. you make him feel like a better man. or like he could be. the way he lets himself enjoy the feeling is a little bittersweet. his entire life revolved around something else, after all. there is a dose of self-loathing eating away at him at the sole thought that he could let himself have something a little better, a little brighter. he is not used to this kind of love — the love that urges him to grow, to offer his hand in peace and goodwill rather than to shed blood and strike with the blade of his sword.
jaime catches himself feeling protective of you. he calls it a knightly duty or something. there is a particularly masculine desire in him to bring you joy — he'd taken it upon himself to be oh-so-chivalrous and ensure you have your own steed ( all because you've pet his own mighty ride with such bright eyes ). he'd ridden with you, all proper and careful, only to be left completely and utterly baffled — and so smitten — by the way your competitive spirit finally shone bright and demanded a race as opposed to the leisure trot.
maybe... just maybe, he can allow these feelings to grow. it could be the one right thing he'd do in a long while.
↳ warnings / notes: somewhat non-graphic sexual content → nsfw; mdni. inspired by tear you apart by she wants revenge. fem! reader x sadistic! dex. hair pulling. choking / neck holding. edging. overstimulation. prone bone yay. established relationship. proof-read but it's really just a fever dream writing. i haven't written something like this in too long, i'm rusty.
↳ word count: ~750
either way he wanted her and this was bad, he wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy.
how could he not go crazy? you clenched around his thick, skilled fingers like a vice. moaned and whined so pathetically, too. tears hung to your lashes like dew-drops. cheeks heated, lips swollen. how could he not go insane at the sight?
it made him happy, though. there was something about the way your eyebrows furrowed with the odd mixture of pain and relief, bitten lips pushed out in a trembling pout as he didn’t let you reach that peak just yet. he grinned, mouth stretching out into a wicked smile, teeth perfect and eyes dark. you’d swear the sight alone made your velvet walls flutter.
“not yet, sweetheart,” he sounded amused. frigidly so.
you let out a trembling gasp as he pulled the glistening digits out of you, wet skin catching dim light so obscenely as he left you hollow. in response, your hips desperately ground against nothing but hot air, chasing as much as a tidbit of friction and relief, but to no avail. you couldn’t do better, or rather, he wouldn't let you do better; dex’s knee between your legs did not allow you to press your thighs together for some vague bliss.
“dex…” you whined, eyes all watery and shiny as he grabbed your jaw only to slip his two fingers into your mouth. the taste spread across your own tongue, and it was almost by instinct that your lips closed around his knuckles with a hum.
“can’t keep that pretty mouth shut, huh?” he rasped, eyebrows lifting in wicked amusement, “you don’t want to?” he pressed down onto your tongue, tracing his fingers across its hot surface. he tilted his head as if in thought, and when the idea seem to spark a light in his head, the corner of his mouth twitched, “yeah, you’re gonna scream for me.”
the ease and speed with which he flipped you over onto your stomach was too impressive. the sheets wrinkled beneath you, but dex couldn’t care less about the lack of order now.
now a little crush turned into a like and now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her;
before your head could go so comfortably slack against the sheets, dex grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling so roughly that you winced as your spine curved. his breath was hot against your ear, his skin scorching, his body heavy. he was rock hard against your ass, and you wished that he’d just fill you properly already.
“come on, sweetheart, i want you to scream for me,” the raspiness in his rough, low voice did unspeakable things to you — the warmth in the low of your belly continued to simmer and burn. he yanked onto your hair a little rougher, making you mewl as his other hand worked between your bodies to line himself up.
he didn’t ease in, and it made you wince. your muscles were so sweetly strained by the time he let your hair go, and your head fell against the mattress, lips parted open to shamelessly spill out all the unholy sounds that he wanted to hear and you could not bother witholding. his hand snuck to wrap around your neck, pressing tightly for just a moment before easing the grip and massaging your hammering pulse instead. the other moved beneath your belly onto that, by now oversensitive, sweet spot.
his bodyweight held you down, hard thrusts pushing out more desperate sounds out of your throat. he could feel each sound through the skin of your neck against the palm of his hand. your vision blurred, and your body remained still and slack save for what moved from the force of his own hips ramming against you.
i want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight… lie still, and close your eyes girl… so lovely, it feels so right…
i want to hold you close,
his hand moved from your neck and down to wrap around the underside of your breasts, pressing your back tighter against his chest. it was an oddly comforting act, to be pulled so close to him.
soft breasts, beating heart,
he could feel your heart slamming against your ribcage, pumping fast and hard. he could hear you tighten around him, and it made his jaw clench.
as i whisper in your ear,
he leaned down, nose brushing your sweat-laced temple before his heavy, burdened breath scorched against your ear,
for @ihasafacelulzzzz › match-up trades › hope you enjoy reading this. it was pretty interesting writing this given that i've never written match-ups for either of the fandoms. thank you for your patience.
— your match: negan smith.
smell of ash. lemonade with ice. leather and silk. bullet shells. bitten lips. protectiveness. savages by marina. tight hugs. naming constellations and stars. games of chess. walks at night. unusual but fitting gifts. dancing together. odd, unexpected moments of reflection and depth.
a wildcard, really; your match is negan smith.
there's tension, there's growth, there's slow-burn. to understand and love negan, one must gnaw through numerous layers — and that comes slowly, with time, almost unintentionally. you'd strike negan as a little odd, sure, but he likes odd and even more than that, he likes capable. with your assets, intelligence, fighting skills, resourcefulness... yeah, he is keeping you on his team.
trusting negan as a leader is one thing, but trusting negan as a man can be a little... rough around the edges. he doesn't really wear his heart on his sleeve while the world's ending, and he doesn't show that more humane side of him easily. however, it slips; all of his asshole tendencies aside, negan remembers things you've mentioned and somehow acquires them — or whatever is closest to it. you've mentioned liking a creepy as fuck doll? well, some of his men ran into this super duper creepy doll on one of the scavanger hunts. did he tell them to pick it up or look out for such things? maybe. you'll never know. he has definitely fished a peacock feather for you in the middle of the fucking apocalypse.
communication may be a little tough, especially at first — negan is loud, intimidating, demanding. however, this man used to be p.e. teacher — he knows how to read people and work with different personalities. his edges soften up over time, turn into something more protective. and, for someone who loves hearing himself talk, he is a surprisingly good listener when he wants to be.
he values the quality time, but it's a scarce good nowadays. negan would give you the oddest of compliments — undeniably mixed with numerous curse words, it's just the way it is — and give you even odder gifts. it's a satisfaction to him; the way you light up makes it worth it. physical touch is a given, and you'd find that he seems to start hugging you tighter and tighter... especially after a dangerous mission.
other matches: glenn rhee ( ironically ).
— your match: alana bloom.
long, immersive conversations. hot beverage gone cold on the coffee table. ice melting. lace ribbons. red lipstick. chocolate smear on the lower lip. hand-holding for comfort. reading together in bed. fresh, warm pastries first thing in the morning. red velvet cake. honest, tired laughs against the pillow.
someone steadier as opposed to the previous match, yours is alana bloom.
alana is a genuine and empathetic character that you could click very well with. good and confident in what she does, she can hold her own ground and has shown a streak of decisiveness — whether it be in her 'lighter' days or the ones submerged in feelings of revenge and bloodlust.
naturally — as her profession demands it — she is an understanding listener, as well as intelligent. speaking with alana is engaging and comfortable. you wouldn't have to go out of your way nitpicking at descriptions of your emotions. and she may show the smallest smile once your voice gets a little louder, suggesting you're growing more and more at peace with her presence. do expect her to gently coax out all you've been trying to bottle up, though — that's something she is not quite letting slide.
she would find you interesting. from the way you express yourself, to your variety of hobbies — it keeps her engaged. not to say that she would go out of her way to psychoanalyse ( though she might... just a little tiny bit ), she's just very impressed by all you have to offer. there's an unlimited potential without it being utterly suffocating — alana appreciates the more relaxing activities for as date ideas. find her tilting her head at your collection of haunted dolls or rocks and asking about them. additionally, she'd love learning from you — tell her the differences between religious beliefs, tell her some historical anecdote.
mind you, alana has gone through her own fair share of ups and downs. she, too, appreciates the listening ear that you are, and the affection, dedication and comfort shown. find her relishing in a kind word from you or a reassuring touch. or pillow talk; she'd love the murmured pillow talk, small laugh suffocated by the cover near her lips, all followed by a good night's sleep.
stole glances, blurry photos, naps on the couch, forehead pressing against each other, strange love by Depeche Mode, whispered trust, slow deep kisses, partly solved puzzle on the coffee table next to chess, ritual spirit by Massive Attack
(For @kamesama, my dear)
- A new neighbour? Something he doesn't want to mess with but something he wishes is less nosy than the last. He notices you before you ever notice him. Like a pattern recognition. Your routines, your habits, the way you always carry medical textbooks, how you smoke on the balcony when you're stressed. He initially frames you as “safe background noise”—someone harmless to observe.
- Still, no contact, no welcoming. But one night, there's a blackout, unexpected and very inconvenient. You wish to solve it and get to the root of the problem - just like him. When you meet, the conversation it's akward, a little off but Dex has his charm. A strange charm.
- Since then you two have started to meet late at night in the hallway of the block randomly more often. He doesn't ask questions, even though he really wants to. You can see it in his eyes, in the way he fumbles with the keys to his apartment as an excuse to watch you go in yours first just in case you finally tell him something.
- Since then, from safe background noise, your presence has become important. Progress is slow, uneven, but real. He can change—but it takes patience and boundaries. The moment he realizes you're more throws him off, it's terrifying. But he can't help it. You make things quieter...and he doesn't want that to end.
- A paradox: your medical knowledge makes him feel at ease. The way you look at injuries, posture, micro-expressions… It’s analytical, not emotional.
At first, that makes you a risk in his mind. But instead of pulling away, he leans in—because you’re one of the few people who might actually understand him on a structural level. You might casually point out things like: “You favor your left side when you’re tired.”, “Your resting heart rate just spiked.” And he just freezes for a second, because no one is supposed to notice that. It becomes a quiet game of who can read the other more accurately.
- Patching him up is intimate. Not just the touches but watching you do it skillfully. He likes that, even if he's tense. Dex, always looks at your hands and your eyes. It's some patching up. Why, instead of pain, does he feel comfort?
- You might draw lines:
“I’m not helping you hurt people.” He doesn’t immediately understand why that line exists—but he registers that it matters to you. This is where your influence really starts shaping him… or causing friction.
- His love is intense, consuming, and not conventional.
-You might catch him just… watching you exist, not in a creepy way (anymore), but like he’s grounding himself. He can't help it but he learns from you. If you say something like “I’m fine” when you’re not, he will fixate on it: “You’re not fine. Your voice dropped half a tone.”
- He likes to help you with your studies and supports you. He's not a cute nickname kind of guy but he'll sometimes call you 'doc' with a nice and real smile.
- Devotion and loyalty run deep with him. You can trust him with anything, he will never expose your secrets and will never use them against you.
- And about secrets, the tapes. Don't expect him to open up about those. The only problem is that since you started spending more time with him, it's harder to listen to them secretly. Soon, he has no choice but to tell you. Depending on your reaction, if it's an understanding one, the relief is undeniable. Later, he might ask if he can record you too...Just one tape at least, speaking whatever you like.
- Puzzle and chess dates. He can sit with you and enjoy those for hours. It's all about the calmness and the feeling of safe control over something small and shared. It's grounding.
- Dex gets insecure often so thank the stars you have the patience and the emotional intelligence to know how to approach him when he's like that. Tries to hide his vulnerability, especially when he notices how you get under his skin. However, in time, he feels more at ease, comfortable with your understanding and words.
- Might steal one of your old digital cameras to use randomly. You two would have a nice collection of memories and aesthetics.
