#// its been a hot second since i've done a post like this

[shiroi---kumo]

PSA:: My Muse is not invincible!

He is Immortal not immune to injury or trauma. He is a walking God but he is not immune to consequence or negative responses to his actions. Kumo has done immoral things. Kumo has killed. Kumo has lied and cheated. Kumo has manipulated to get what he wants. Kumo has done things under the concept of "The end justifies the means."

Kumo contains the power of one Goddess of the Heavens and Mother of the Mist within him but that does not make him above life. That does not mean, he is incapable of getting hurt, sick, in trouble, and / or killed. Kumo is not always right, and sometimes he does things he shouldn't.

Kumo is generally a pretty decent guy but that does not mean he can't be miserable. That doesn't mean he's a pushover or that he can't defend himself. That doesn't mean he should be underestimated for any reason.

Kumo is a living God. Kumo is in possession with enough power to destroy worlds.

Kumo is tiny. Kumo is small. Kumo is not menacing looking but he can still wipe the floor with most people who stand in his path. Kumo is not weak.

However that being said, Kumo has physical weaknesses that are just biologically a part of him. He is not invincible. Kumo can be killed. He will revive no matter what though unless killed a certain way by certain people though. No other living being can kill him permanently.

And on the topic of Kumo being nasty, the narrative will come for him. It comes for us all. Wrong doings will not go unpunished. Resolutions will be met. Kumo is a living God with just as much work to do as the next guy. He is not pardoned just because he's a generally nice guy. I will not baby my muse, nor will I make excuses for him.

Kumo acknowledges his wrong-doings and is trying to heal that damage he's caused. He refuses to see himself as a good OR bad person because of this and firmly believes he is both at the same time. Kumo is not invincible, invulerable or immune.

And he never will be. He has serious trauma to work through, and he has to do the work. He will do the work. Just like every other person, Kumo is responsible for his own growth and betterment. He's done immoral things and he acknowledges and owns them.

Side note:

When I say Kumo has enough power to destroy the world, this is canon. I'm not fucking with you.

[eunsuri]

Eternity

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan

Summary: In the final battle with the false gods, Solas must make an impossible choice.

Word Count: 2,443

Warnings: ANGST. Followed by some real sweetness to heal our Solavellan pain.

A/N: Hey everyone! It's been a hot minute since I've posted or even done any writing, but all the Veilguard hype and replaying the Dragon Age games has inspired my poor Solavellan heart. Hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts! Also posted on AO3!

“Solas!”

It had all happened so quickly.

The world seemed like a fractured dream—shadows and light bleeding together, the edges of reality blurring into something unrecognisable. Hues of blue, purple, and red painted the sky. The sounds of battle—screams, the clash of steel, the roar of ancient magic and blighted gods—melted into a single, indistinct hum, as if the world itself had begun to unravel.

Solas’ Dread Wolf form was quickly fading, returning to his battered Elven body. Pain throbbed in his every limb, a dull, relentless ache that clouded his thoughts and blurred his senses. 

He tried to focus, to grasp onto something solid, but the ground beneath his feet slipped like sand, shifting and unstable. It was Lavellan’s voice, raw with emotion, that anchored him, drawing him back from the brink of unconsciousness. His racing heart thudded in his ears, eyes searching for the source of Lavellan’s cry, as fear gripped his very being at the thought of her laying broken and defenceless in the chaos. 

Thunder continued to roll while lightning cracked through angry clouds over the twisted form of the ancient elven goddess, Ghilan'nain. The Mother of the Halla, and huntress of the People, was now a twisted abomination of decay and rage. Her shriek tore through the Veilguard ranks, a cry born of millennia of rage and betrayal, a keening wail that echoed with the fury of a goddess locked away for centuries. 

Then, through a fog of pain and confusion, Solas saw Ghilan'nain’s blazing red eyes seeking out the Dread Wolf, her corrupted form rising above the fray and ready to strike. Before he could even register the danger, before he could summon the strength to call out to Lavellan, a flash of blue crystals sped into his vision. 

It was Lavellan. The lyrium dagger clutched in her hand, armour shattered and boots worn out, the scent of muddied blood from her injured leg mingling with the air, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Yet, despite the pain and exhaustion etched into her every movement, her eyes burned with an unyielding fire, a fierce resolve to protect the one she loved.

Without a second thought, she leapt forward, her body moving of its own accord, driven by a love that eclipsed all fear. The impact was immediate, the force of the blow reverberating through her as she intercepted the strike meant for Solas, driving the lyrium dagger through Ghilan'nain’s heart. Pain lanced through Lavellan, white-hot and unforgiving, unlike anything she had ever felt before.

“No!” Anguish tore through Solas, his cry shattered the battlefield, raw and filled with terror at the sight of her figure flying across the battlefield.

He didn’t know how he had managed to gather the strength to stand once more, but in an instant, he was at her side. The battle faded into a ghostly echo as his world narrowed to the broken form in his arms. The ground beneath them was cold and unyielding, but it was the chill in her fading pulse that froze his racing heart. Her breath, once steady and strong, came now in ragged, shallow gasps, a desperate struggle against the darkness closing in.

“Vhenan…” Her voice came as a laboured, broken whisper. 

The scent of iron and death hung heavy in the air, the distant screams of the battle barely registering in Solas' mind as he frantically hovered his hands over her wounds, his bloodied fingers trembling with the urgency of his magic. But the damage was too great, the energy she had taken was meant to kill, to obliterate. Hot crimson blood seeped through the cracks in her armour, staining the cold stone beneath her. The warmth of it clung to Solas' skin, a stark contrast to the creeping numbness that threatened to consume him whole.

He found himself unable to muster a single word in response to her, the weight of his despair crushing him. He could feel the ancient magic flowing within his veins, yet every spell he cast faltered against the reality of her mortality. Each pulse of energy he sent into her only slipped through his grasp, her life ebbing away like water through his fingers, her fading breath a cruel reminder of his powerlessness.

For the first time in millenia, Solas felt truly, utterly powerless. The gravity of his failure thrust down on him, sharper than any blade, heavier than the mountains he had once shaped. He had experienced many failures, disrupted rituals, and power drunk magisters. Yet the pride and determination that would fuel him through these failures could not fill the gaping void that failing his love would leave inside him.

Since the Veil’s creation and his awakening from Uthenera, Solas had borne witness to countless lives slipping away, each loss a distant echo in the vast expanse of time. He had watched countless lives flicker and fade, each loss stoking the embers of his desperation to restore his People’s immortality. But this—this was different. 

He had convinced himself that the price he would pay was justified, a necessary sacrifice for the future he sought to reclaim. This world and its people, fleeting and fragile, would have to perish in order to restore his own, to undo the grievous mistake he had made. He had always known that losing this world would mean losing her, that her mortality was inescapable—especially with the Anchor’s relentless power surging through her veins, marking her as temporary. He had hoped that by severing their bond and leaving the Inquisition, he could sever his attachment to her as well. Yet, even as he watched over her each night in the Fade, anticipating the loss of his love, nothing could have truly prepared him for the agony of this moment.

The pain that seared through him now was unlike any he had ever known, sharp and relentless, cutting deeper than all the centuries of loss combined. He had thought himself prepared, had steeled his heart against the inevitability of her mortality, but as he looked at Lavellan, broken and bleeding before him, he realised with a shattering clarity that he could not—would not—live in a world without her. The thought of truly losing her was a wound that would never heal, a chasm of despair that would swallow him whole for eternity.

Memories, vivid and bittersweet, flooded Solas’ mind. He remembered the first time he had seen her, the feeling of her marked hand clutched in his as he guided her to close the gaping rift. He recalled the stolen moments of quiet between battles, where they had shared dreams of a life beyond the chaos once the battle with Corypheus would end, her laughter a balm to his soul. The nights she would seek him out in dreams, or sneak into his tent, where she would lay against his chest while he read books or told stories of his dreams in the Fade. The feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingertips, the softness of her lips against his, lingering like the delicate petals of a blooming flower. Their magic intertwining, flowing through them like a gentle current, binding them together in a harmony that felt as eternal as the stars.

Moments in which the crushing realisation dawned on him—that she could sway his mind to find another way, that the world he sought to restore could be returned without the destruction he once deemed necessary, that everything and everyone he had fought so hard alongside could be real, not just a dream of the past.

But now, those memories twisted like a knife in his heart, the sweetness of each moment laced with the bitter sting of loss. Without her, those moments would remain nothing but a memory that would haunt him for eternity.

“Please,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure to whom he was begging, his voice a plea to the empty skies. 

The thought of truly losing her now was unbearable, a pain he could scarcely endure. For him, she had endured unimaginable suffering—the searing torment of the mark that claimed her arm, the heartbreak when he severed their bond, and the endless nights spent in relentless pursuit of him, only to stand between him and the final, fatal blow. He could not let her die, not after all she had sacrificed for him.

Solas wracked his brain for solutions, continuing to frantically attempt to heal her and keep her conscious. His vision was blurred with the rivers of tears streaming down his skin, the fierce hand of desperation gripping itself around his throat. She was fading, her weakened life force flickering like a waning candle, its flame struggling to cling to the charred wick, desperately resisting the darkness closing in.

Then, in the depths of his despair, a single option took root—a desperate, impossible choice. There was one thing he could do, one last act that could save her. But it would cost him everything. His heart thudded against his chest heavily with the weight of the decision, the ancient power within him pulsing like a living thing, reminding him of all that he was about to lose. Immortality. His essence. The very fabric of his being.

But what was immortality without her? What was all of his power worth if it could not protect the one person who had come to mean more to him than anything in this world or the next?

His resolve solidified, born of a love so deep it defied all reason. He could not imagine a world without her—without her laughter, her touch, the warmth of her presence beside him. His pride and desire to mend his past errors would not stand in his way again. And so, with a heart full of love and a mind clear of doubt, he cast his pride into the depths of the abyss, where it would be lost to the shadows of his past, and embraced the decision he would have to make.

Solas placed his hand, now strong and steady, over her heart. His eyes glowed with an ethereal blue light that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality, a stormy flash of magic emitting from his palms. 

He could feel it—the life force that had sustained him for centuries, ancient and vast, now flowing out of his being and into her. It was like tearing a piece of his soul away, a pain so profound it threatened to break him, but he did not falter. He would give her everything if it meant she would live. 

As the celestial light enveloped her, knitting her wounds and restoring her strength, Solas felt his own power wane. His once-immortal form grew weaker, the essence that had defined  him slipping away. But with it, the burden of centuries lifted, replaced by a calm acceptance. He had chosen this—chosen her—and in that choice, he found peace.

Lavellan gasped as warmth surged through her, revitalising her strength, but with it came the unsettling realisation of what he was doing. “Solas, stop,” she protested, her voice growing stronger even as his weakened. She attempted to push him away, her hand trembling against his chest, but he drew her closer, gently lowering his forehead to hers, the gesture silencing her pleas.

“I will not lose you, Vhenan,” he breathed, his voice heavy with resolve as his ancient power flowed into her, binding them both to a mortal life.

Though Solas would remain formidable, he willingly embraced the fragility of mortality, finding solace in the certainty that they would face the years together, no matter how fleeting they may seem. 

The engulfing light dimmed, leaving them in a hushed silence. With a newfound strength, Lavellan lifted herself upright, pausing to drink in the sight of the Dread Wolf, now a mortal man. His eyes, no longer glowing with ancient power, were filled with a quiet love and deep relief, the tension that had once gripped him now replaced by a serene acceptance of his mortality. She could see the peace in his expression, the contentment that came with knowing he had chosen this—chosen her—and this world. 

A wave of relief washed over her being, drawing her worries back into its current, and allowing the peace she had sought for a decade to finally grace her. Though it pained her to see him sacrifice such an intrinsic part of who he was, she felt a deep sense of gratitude knowing she had changed his heart away from the destruction of this world.

Solas reached forward, delicately brushing his fingers over her mended cheek. Her eyes glistened with life and unshed tears welled along her eyelashes, captivating him as they always had. She released a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding in, and lunged herself into his embrace. 

Her arm twined around his neck, clutching the fabric on his back as a quiet sob shuddered through her lungs. “Ma serannas, Ma’lath. Thank you. Thank you,” she whispered between breaths, tears trickling down his throat and soaking through his clothing.

He held her tightly against him, as though she might vanish if he loosened his grasp. The warmth of her presence, so long absent, was a salve to his aching soul. For a decade, he had watched her from afar, his dreams haunted by the memory of her touch. Now, finally enfolded in her embrace, he marvelled at the tangible reality of what he had yearned for so deeply. Each trembling breath she took, each tear that fell, was a testament to the long-suffered separation and the profound relief of being truly reunited.

“I’ve lived through many lifetimes, yet without you, it is all empty, lost,” Solas confessed, his voice a low murmur against her hair. “Now, I see a new path forward.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her hand gently tracing up to his face. Her voice was soft, yet firm with conviction, as though speaking the very truth of her soul. “And we will face it together,” she vowed, wiping her thumb across his cheek as her teary eyes searched his. “Var lath vir suledin.” The words trembled on her lips—ancient, yet timeless.

“Yes, Vhenan.” This time, he believed her. “Our love will endure. Always.”

Though the blighted false gods had been freed from their eternal prison, and the battle was now won, the task of rebuilding the world lay ahead. Together, they would forge a new path to save their people—one devoid of further death and destruction.

For now, they were alive, together, but irrevocably changed—two souls who had sacrificed everything for each other. 

Their love had endured, and would continue to endure for centuries to come.

[urf1lterr]

afterglow | pedro pascal [2/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

previous chapter: [1]

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 15k

status: 2/3 complete

author's note: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT LOVES. even though its gonna be three parts lol i still want you to want more. i've been confused on my writing because tbh- i feel like i could do better and keep rushing with these storylines and end up regretting them AFTER they are posted lol. not edited- it really isn't.

"Let's cut the chit-chat and get some real answers, why did y'all breakup?"

"Andrew!"

"Three days have passed, she's fine now," he defended, shrugging as Florence shot him an irritated look by his prying behavior.

It has indeed been a few days since the terrible night that consisted in you meeting your favorite artist, crying beside her, running awkwardly away right after, having a screaming match with your ex, and then passing out in the car.

So, you couldn't deny it wasn't a memorable night.

The past three days could've been better to say the least if your management team stopped spamming you with text messages concerning the fight, maybe even ignoring the loads of pictures of your crying face.

Oh, the pictures. Not a fun sight to see.

Luckily for you, the pictures were only ones inside the party near Andrew- not Pedro. Unfortunately, though, your picture was turned into a 'crying in the club' meme.

You couldn't exactly be mad over it, you loved memes.

Thank the Lords the paparazzi were clueless and never ended up catching your argument with Pedro or you wouldn't know how to cover it up.

You could never get away with the typical 'friends fighting' after he shouted how much he loved you.

And bless the celebrities near you for minding their business.

To clear up your meltdown, you took it upon yourself to send out a quick tweet the next morning with a "i'm sorry i'm an emotional drunk. one second we're talking about 500 days of summer and then...well you already know how THAT ends."

In that moment you couldn't care less if people believed you or not, this was going to pass fast anyway.

Now here you were, sitting in front of your kitchen bar as Andrew and Florence decided to pay you a visit because they missed you- or so they say.

Realistically, they wanted to see if you were still a hot mess.

Which you weren't, obviously.

Shailene would have tagged along, but she was busy doing grown up things, such as working on her latest project Andrew claimed which was a slight bummer. She was the mediator, now who else was going to stop the arguments calmly between your two friends.

Florence disagreed, shaking her head. "You can't just ask her that, it's impolite."

Sighing, Andrew sent you an apologetic glance. "Okay, I am sorry." Not taking his eyes off you, you could feel his curiosity and eagerness from the other side of the kitchen. "But we're all thinking it."

Judging by how unresponsive Florence became, you could tell she wasn't going to fight him on this. And well, she was secretly on his side because your fight with Pedro was seriously excessive.

She just wanted to know what he could've done to make you so angry, it didn't make sense to her if he did cheat. He didn't seem like the type, but some people do the most surprising things- so she couldn't really tell.

"Do you want the last reason or all of them?"

Widening his eyes, Andrew shares a glance with Florence for a swift second before finding your eyes. "Last reason?"

"The last fight we had that led us to finalize our breakup."

"Finalize," he giggled, leaning on the marble counter. "This isn't a divorce process."

"For a person who is so concerned about my relationship crisis, you seem to be catch on to the most irrelevant stuff."

"So you admit you still want to be with him," Andrew declared, giving a smug look as you tried to process his words. "If you're still stressing over him, it means you don't want to let him go."

"I never said I was stressing over hi-"

"Did she or did she not just claim she was undergoing a crisis-," Andrew interrupted, slightly raising his voice. "-a relationship crisis, to be exact."

Florence sheepishly looked your way, capturing your stern expression before slowly nodding.

Your male friend clapped his hands loudly before bursting out a wider grin, happy someone had his back. "There we have it, if he's on your mind that much to turn into a crisis- you still love him!"

Furrowing your brows, you didn't know how to respond. It was true, you had many moments where Pedro agitated you even when you haven't been near him for quite some time.

But isn't being wound up over an ex part of healing?

Truth be told, you knew your feelings for Pedro hadn't completely disappeared, but love? You weren't even sure love existed by your past experiences.

"I do not love him," you hiss, vigorously snatching the water bottle on the counter and aggressively opening it. "How can love be real? It's baffling."

"Questioning the real question with a question," he sneers, making Florence and you become confused as ever. "You're so in love him."

Florence cuts in, squinting her face in puzzlement. "Wait- what's the real question she's supposedly questioning with a question?"

"Love!" he cheers happily before placing his hand on his palm, dreamingly gazing at you. "You have your doubts on what love may be, but without knowing it you're having them because you're questioning your love to Pedro since you're too scared to admit you still love him."

"I don't get it."

Rolling your eyes, you swiftly turn away and head towards your living room to lay on your couch. You were not in the mood to have someone else tell you what your feelings were when they weren't you. "I'm done with this conversation."

Hearing a low slapping noise, following an irritated hiss, you could make out Florence's displeased voice. "See what you did! Now she's not going to tell us."

"So much for moral support, you really are nosy," Andrew fought back, whispering loudly.

A minute or two went by since you couldn't make out what they were saying before rushed footsteps soon made their way near you as your friends awkwardly smiled, hoping they didn't upset you too much.

Because they really wanted to know the drama.

Pushing him roughly from behind, Florence sent you an innocent smile as Andrew landed near your side of the couch, trying his best to hold his composure and not turn back around and start another fight.

Placing a light hand on your shoulder, you blankly glance at it before meeting his attention. "We just wanted you to know we totally understand if you aren't comfortable...expressing your past-"

"Get your hand off me and let's get this over with so you two can leave already."

Florence quickly sat right beside Andrew, both not offended with your statement because they were fully aware of how annoying the were becoming.

Before you could say anything, Florence quickly spoke aloud. "Start from the beginning!" Andrew slowly looking back to her, he sent her a confused look. "So we aren't lost, of course."

Laughing lightly, you nod before adjusting yourself on your seat. It was going to be hard to remember all the details clearly because there really wasn't an exact time issues occurred, it kind of just naturally appeared here and there.

Now that you think of it, majority of the tiny disputes during the earlier days of your relationship were probably on the same level as when you two were splitting, but maybe the dense ones created towards the end really made it hard to continue.

"If I'm being totally honest, we never really had problems when we first started dating. He was really great," you begin, clutching onto a pillow you found right beside you. "And he would always make sure to watch me make it inside my house before leaving, that was when I knew he wasn't some fling."

Andrew smirked, nodding proudly. "Classic move."

Smiling at the thought, you focused your mind to uncover the ugly truths that slowly tore you two apart.

"But then one day, I wanna say a few weeks after our second anniversary, we just started...fighting?"

Tilting your head, you look down as sad memories began pouring through your mind completely. "It wasn't our usual small fights over who left the bathroom floor wet or dropping his ipad in the pool-"

"-you dropped his ipad in the pool?" Florence coughed, bewildered by your scandalous actions.

"He wanted to know if it was waterproof," you defended.

"Was it?"

"No," you nervously reply, avoiding their eyes. "But he had it backed up and I bought him a new one!"

"That was kind of a bitchy move," Andrew muttered, catching your pissed gaze. "But at least you made up for it!"

Maybe it wasn't that great of an idea to just throw it in, but he did say he was really curious and wanted to dump it under the sink.

"Anyway," you start back up again, making Andrew lowly sigh in relief. "Our fights were never that serious, or at least not until he started filming for that new tv series he joined."

Florence spoke up, lightly questioning "The Last of Us?"

Nodding, you shrugged. "I guess it's normal to say the time apart did cause a rift in our relationship, but it wasn't too bad. He always made sure to call and facetime at least once every two days."

"But one day when he was visiting during his week break he just...snapped?" you frowned, not even wanting to visualize the tiny argument.

You had to for your own good.

"He had been home for maybe two days before he suddenly became moody. Like- his attitude was insane, I have never seen him like this ever," you sigh, closing your eyes for a second before continuing. "He didn't want to go out to eat, didn't want me to make him food, and when I offered to have it delivered he slammed the bedroom door on my face and claimed he was going to bed."

"Woah, why would he do that?" Andrew asked, seriousness splattered all over his face.

You wish you knew.

"Not sure, I just thought maybe work was stressing him out so I wanted him to have his alone time to clear his mind."

"Did that work?"

Sitting up straighter, you send a sorrowful smile. "For the rest of that week-yes. He ended up apologizing to me when I tried going to bed and said his manager was being tough on him for some scenes they had done."

You remember the moment you walked inside your bedroom, disappointed that he was awake. Not wanting to cause more tension, you planned to sneak under the covers and deal with the incident in the morning.

But his arms slowly wrapping over your waist as you had your back facing him said otherwise. Pulling you closer, you remember the soft "please don't be mad at me" he whispered near your ear, making sure you felt his tight embrace as if to prove you were his.

That night ended with you turning your body over to face him, accepting his open arms as a way to answer his pleading way of forgiveness.

Like always.

"Once he went back to work, we still talked- but I could tell he wasn't fully engaged like he always was," you sulk, remembering the first time you caught him not listening. "It got to the point where I purposely stopped answering his calls."

Your friends quickly send you a shocked look, you continue before they could intercept. "I couldn't handle his lack of attention, I would rather have him panic from the rejected calls than just tell him why I was upset."

It wasn't your best move, but you were frustrated. It wasn't fair that he was the one who got to treat you poorly and you had to accept it.

You admit, maybe if you communicated with him about these issues you could've prevented many future arguments and even saved your relationship.

But you were human and sometimes humans act human.

"Then what happened?" Andrew asked, a curious appearance plastering his face. "You continued ignoring him?"

Laughing lightly, you shake your head. It was the plan, but plans don't always work out. "Actually, he secretly took a flight back home one weekend and confronted me."

Gasping, Florence jumped up in her seat and moved her leg under her. "No way!"

"Yes, way," you sheepishly reply, embarrassed at the memory. You can still picture the way Pedro stood in your shared bedroom as you stepped out of your bathroom, jumping at the sight of him.

Standing with his arms crossed with his bags thrown by the door, he was determined to figure out what was going on with you.

"I wouldn't say we engaged in a heated argument, but it was surprisingly really emotional."

Andrew leaned his body closer, too interested not to let his questions slide. "Were you guys never emotional? I feel like every couple experiences those moments together- it's what makes them stronger."

It should've made you two stronger, but instead it made you weaker without you realizing it.

"Pedro and I had our minor instances, but it never involved problems we were facing," you began, sighing slightly. "All I remember was finding him standing near the bed with no emotion- none. I couldn't read what he may have been feeling, he just looked so....empty?"

"Empty? That's not good." Florence commented.

"That could mean a lot of things, not necessarily anger," Andrew added, trying to make you feel better.

"I knew deep down he was mad, as he should be- I was the one ignoring him," you defended him, taking full responsibility over your childish actions. "But I could tell he was more hurt that mad."

"What did he say?"

"What's going on?" Pedro questioned, his eyes not daring to leave yours as you freeze- stopping your attempts at brushing your wet hair, extremely confused as to why he was here.

He wasn't supposed to visit for another month, or so he said.

"Pedro?" you squint your eyes, still not sure if he was really in front of you or maybe you were daydreaming. You were high off many shots of espressos, it's finally hitting you. "Is that you?"

Still staring plainly at you, he stays right where he was. In any other circumstances he would have run up and wrapped his arms tightly around you, but this night was different.

He looked disorientated, out of place. His eyes lacked intensity as his body followed, looking as stiff as ever. Even his breathing matched his energy, calm yet unsettled.

You left him confused and he did not like that. "Answer my question."

Batting your eyes faster, you realize what was going on and where he was. Gasping, you do the exact opposite of what he wanted. "What the hell are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be home- you could get fired a-"

Taking a hold of your arms, he stills you and ignores your rambling. "What-" he begins, moving his right hand to the back of your neck and forcing you to focus on him only. "-is going on?"

Freezing, you try to back your head away from his grip but he tightens his grasp, making sure to not be too rough so he doesn't actually hurt you- he would never do such a thing. "I don't understand-"

"You haven't been answering my calls, what else is there to understand?" He sternly recalls, not wanting you to bullshit your way out of this. "So you either have been ignoring me on purpose to be petty or this is your way of hinting you don't want to be with me anymore."

Shaking your head frantically, you try to talk but he cuts you off again. "-And don't say you've been busy. You and I both know I would have figured out if you had added projects to your schedule- your mom tells me everything."

If this were a good time, you would have laughed at his side comment regarding your mother, but it wasn't.

"Not everything," you spit out, causing him to squint his face and release his hands from you.

"Are you trying to tell me something? Are you not happy? Is that why you've been avoiding my calls?" he questions, tilting his head in bewilderment, not liking your attitude at the moment. "Because if you really don't want to be with me you should've told me sooner than leaving me feeling fucking clueless while I'm out in another country working."

"I'm not saying I don't want to be with you-"

"But you aren't denying it," he intercepts, firmly nodding in realization. "I get it, I'm just glad I know now and won't have to wait another month to finally understand how you're feeling."

Walking away from you, Pedro walks towards his bags and reaches down for them. You scoff at his disturbed demeanor. There is no way you should be the only one at fault here- you both made mistakes.

Pushing his backpack off his hands, he watches at it lands on the floor before instantly finding your eyes. "Are you seri-"

"Just because I'm avoiding your calls doesn't mean I want to end our relationship" you shriek, glaring at him as his eyes soften at your hidden truth.

Your angered expression and stiff posture hits him like a brick, there was something really bothering you and he was too oblivious to acknowledged it until you began overlooking him.

Taking a deep breath, you watch as your boyfriend intently examines you as if he's trying to read your impractical mind. Sometimes, he wished you would speak up when something was bothering you, in fact- he has told you many times in the past to do so.

But the idea of patiently waiting until it erupts is what he's sure you've normalized in fear of desertion. Or maybe refusal of reality- the two of you weren't perfect.

"What's going on?" He calmly questions again, dropping any signs of fury and replaces it with worry and concern. Reaching out to you, he softly clasps your shoulder before moving in a few inches. "Am I making you upset?"

Slapping his hand away, you cross your arms over your chest in agitation. "I'm mad at you!"

Blinking a few times, he couldn't believe how fast you spilled and chaotic your energy was. He's never seen you act this hysterical and to be honest, he was really debating asking if you were on your period or not. "Why?"

Pursing your lips together, you release your arms and let them fall on your sides. "You know why!" With that, you turn your back to him and make your way back to your bathroom to hide.

At this point, you felt it was acceptable to act unbearable- he left you feeling insignificant and you weren't going to hold it in anymore.

If you stayed there any longer you knew you would break down into tears. Showing your vulnerable side this early into an argument was too easy, you have to show how bold you were in order to get your point across.

Or anger across.

But it was really hard to hold a grudge, he was just so- loving, despite your recent incidents. Deep down, he did care about you and wanted to validate your feelings- or as best he could.

Grabbing anything you could find near your sink, you begin opening some moisturizer and splatter it around your hands to keep you busy. You could feel Pedro come inside your shared bathroom but you don't dare to peep his way.

"Honey- please," you heard him release a soft sigh as he stood behind you, watching through your huge mirror in front of the two of you. He could make out your distressed appearance and you were absolutely not fine. "You can't just steer clear from this, we need to talk about it-"

Slamming the poor jar on the counter, you swiftly twist your body to his front and feel all the rage taking control. "But did you want to talk all those times I called you?! No, you didn't give one fuck about me or Leia!"

"You named your dog after Princess Leia? That's smart," Andrew butted in, grinning. "You know, since he's in the Mandalorian and Star W-"

"We get it."

Maybe it was wrong to bring your beloved corgi into such a serious topic, but she was abandoned by her father too.

"I did talk to you! I made sure to call you whenever I had time an-"

"I'm glad I made it into your schedule- but maybe if you considered adding some compassion and empathy it wouldn't feel like I'm just another business call you hate!"

Panting, you send daggers his way as his eyes widen. Did you just say he doesn't care about your calls? Impossible- he loves your calls, it makes his days better.

"You aren't a business call and you know that. Honey, please understand- hey!" He cuts himself off once you finally had enough of his poor attempts to defend himself, trying to flee but he ends up being quicker on his feet and yanking you back to his arms.

But once you were wrapped around him, even though it was for pure captivity and not warmth, you instantly broke down. He didn't know you were in tears until he felt his shirt become damp and still then he just thought you were trying to spit on him out of anger.

Hearing your tiny whimpers, he immediately glanced down and lifted you up to catch a clear view of your face, despite your protests and blockings. "Baby, I-I didn't mean to make you cry-"

"You don't mean a lot of things," you spit out, swatting his hands that dared to reach your face. You weren't in the mood to make up, all you wanted to do was sleep your troubles away, especially with the draining work day you had.

Continuing your pulling, Pedro began becoming annoyed with your strong protests against his affection. Isn't this what you wanted? "Why won't you let me hold you? I want to console you, can't I be your boyfriend for the night and tomorrow you can continue hating me?"

"You see my tears and now you want to hold me but admit we'll still be out of place tomorrow? That's acceptable for you?" you laugh ruthlessly, allowing space to be brought in front of you. "Do you hear yourself?"

Groaning, he rubs his face hard before speaking his mind, trying not to sound too furious and scare you. "What do you want me to do? I admit, I did lack some energy-"

"Some?" you snort to yourself, your face still wet.

"Don't interrupt me," he declared, shaking his head at how rude you were becoming. "I wasn't the best partner, okay?! There, I admit it, but you don't understand how it is working constantly and not being able to see family and friends and-"

"It's like you don't even know me at all," you ignorantly chuckle over his nonsense and walk towards your bed.

What a way to dismiss your feelings.

"That's not what I meant," he sighs, following after and stopping you from opening your covers and hiding underneath them. "It's just hard being away from everyone I love, I'm in a different country. It's not like I can drive an hour away and suddenly see them!"

"I can't do that either!"

"Can't you just please, please, please- consider that my mindset is not good right now," he declares, his eyes filling with sadness as his arms slowly find your waist. Taking a deep breath, you watch as he looked up at the ceiling before biting his lip. "I know I am not being the best partner right now- or for the past few months, but I am trying."

As soon as uncertainty flushed your face, his hands tightened as his expression deepened into an emotion you never seen him explore before- dejection.

"I can't promise you I'm suddenly going to wake up and give you 110% every interaction we have," he began, his voice lowering as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "But I confess- I am being a little shit and I am willing to work on that. Just please- please don't push me away. Try to understand my situation."

He wasn't wrong, his life switched around once he accepted the role of Joel Miller and you should've known from the start he would face some difficulties. Maybe you were being too self-centered and invalidated his feeling too, not just him.

Sometimes he wasn't good with words when expressing himself and made you feel as if you weren't as popular as him, but you knew it was never his intention to hurt you like that. He had a heart and loved to use it.

Fighting over work should never be a reason to be miserable especially when it's how you both get your income.

"I-I understand," you lightly speak up, watching as his eyes light up by the sound of your now calm voice filling his ears. "I just want you to know that it didn't make me feel good-"

"Of course it wouldn't make you feel good, I was being horrible," Pedro intercepted, pulling you into a tight hug and landing his face in your neck. "And if I wasn't thousands of miles away I would totally spoil you with kisses and chocolates as my sorry."

"Chocolates are still in favor," you joke and feel him softly swat your bottom in disapproval.

Pulling away, he leans his face closer to yours and plants a sweet kiss upon your lips before backing up an inch and whispering softly, "I love you, you know that right?"

Smiling, you slowly nod and surprise him with a deeper kiss before answering him back with a familiar, "I love you, too."

"You better," he smirks, pulling his body on top of yours, hearing your light squeaks once your back hit the mattress and his lips snuck their way into the crook of your neck.

"Did you end up getting chocolates?" Andrew immediately questioned once you finished your long recollection of memories.

"That's not important," Florence rolled her eyes.

"I mean he did promise her it."

Chuckling at his curiosity, it amused you how focused he was about some candy. "Yes, he did- for like a month and then I got over them."

"Understandable," Andrew replied, looking down at his lap.

Florence jumped over him, making herself sit closer to you as he winced at her sudden movements. "Then what happened?! I mean, there had to be more right?"

"My god woman, I hope you're not working for TMZ," Andrew joked.

She shushed him before leaning closer to you, signaling you to continue on with your memories. "After that fight, things became pretty normal again. We would call each other with far more energy than before and he would even fly back home often to keep our communication strong."

"And how long did that last?"

Frowning, you took a small breath. "Like three months- then we started fighting more."

"Over?"

Rubbing your face, you groaned. "He went back to lacking energy! But that's not even the worst part."

"Please don't tell me he cheated," Andrew begged, covering his eyes with his hands while pulling a sorrow look. "I would never be able to look at him the same."

"I don't know if he did cheat- but I did find out two months before we ended things that he stayed the night at his exes."

Loudly gasping, the company you had began freaking out with their jaws dropping- literally. Florence angrily furrowed her brows, "you've got to be kidding? How is that allowed in a relationship?- It's not!"

Crossing your legs, you shrug as a way to answer her. You really did wonder what was going through his head when he did that. Sadly, you couldn't believe a word he said after you found out what he did.

Maybe that's why you were fine with ending things- because the trust was slowly disappearing.

"Not to mention he would always be with her and ditch plans with me," you form a tight smile, trying not to make things awkward but it was too late.

Who could possible hear this and not feel embarrassed for you? Classic move on his part to follow the 'being friends with my ex is okay' stereotype, but it only left you feeling unwanted and flawed.

Were you not good enough to be in his arms all those times he ditched you for her? And why couldn't he tell you what was really going on- unless he was truly hiding something unspeakable.

"Spill the beans."

Hearing a door slam, you jump up in a daze. You could feel sleep still linger on your body as you crank your neck to the side, capturing the bright '12:47 pm' located on top of your nightstand.

Slowly yanking your body up, you don't stretch as you hurry out of your room to the living room in search of the mysterious person who was either your missing boyfriend or an intruder.

Catching sight of his bright yellow t-shirt as he opens the refrigerator, you could feel your body boil up. "Where have you been? You snuck out last night without even telling me- do you even understand how worried I was?!"

Watching as he gradually turns his head to face yours, Pedro closes the fridge before leaning against the kitchen counter- completely relaxed despite your current state.

"I was out with friends," he declared, grinning to try and take pressure off from you- it didn't work. "I'm sorry, I will tell you next time. I didn't mean to worry you, my love."

Placing your hands on your hips, it pains you that you secretly don't believe a word he's saying. Normally, if this were the case, he would text you if you were sleeping or call you in the morning to inform you with what he'd done.

He did neither one.

Maybe you should test him? Ask him questions and see if he'll freeze up?

"And who were you with?"

He smiled, grabbing a cup from the pantry while easily answering, "Diego and Oscar- we had a couple of drinks and Oscar thought it would be best I stay the night."

Nodding swiftly, you examine him to see if there were any signs of him lying- there weren't. Fuck, you forgot he was an actor. It's literally his job to control his emotions! "And why didn't you call or at least send a simple text?"

After hearing your words, Pedro sends you a small smile before gently placing his cup down. Walking up to you, he opens his arms. "Baby, is that why you're so upset? Because I didn't call?"

Before you could answer, he engulfs you in his arms before swaying you both around. Feeling vibrations as he let out light giggles, you instantly dropped any suspicions you may have had because he had to tell the truth- he would never lie to you.

It's surreal how easily you could throw any convictions out the window when he touched you. It's like he jogged your memory.

"Well, why didn't you at least text?"

Removing his head from your neck, he squeezes you waist and sends you an amused smirk . "Because I was insanely drunk and if I would've used my phone it probably would have resulted in me leaving you hundreds of drunk voicemails confessing my love for you."

"And that's bad?"

He chuckled, shaking his head before pinching your side. "No, but it sure as hell is annoying."

Standing up straighter, you cautiously nod at his answer and watch as he lovingly smiled down at you. "Okay, I believe you."

"Did you really believe him?" Andrew asked.

"I call bullshit," Florence confidently declares, strong on her view that Pedro was not an honest person.

"Let me finish the story!"

Loud footsteps could be heard near your hallway as you stood behind the oven, trying your best to not burn these damn chocolate chip cookies.

Such a basic recipe yet so complex- it was truly aggravating.

"Y/n? Where are you?!" you heard you assistant squeal from a distance.

Trying to properly put your mitten on, you murmur a small "kitchen" before preparing yourself to open the oven. The amount of times you burned yourself thinking it was cool enough not to wear protection-

Point is- always wear protection.

Opening the oven door, you pull the tray of freshly baked cookies towards you as the footsteps became clearly audible. Right when the cookies were in your grip and being lifted, you heard your assistant yelp-

"Pedro was caught leaving his ex's house two days ago."

Throwing yourself up into a standing position, you forget about the tray of cookies until you feel the burning sensation upon your left arm. You accidentally pulled the tray too close to you. "Ow!"

Instantly panicking, your assistant rushes to your side in support and grabs a towel to fill with ice. Pressing downwards on the wound, you wince at the pressure that was building.

"What the hell are you talking about?" you still question, extremely curious to uncover what this situation was.

His ex? That's absurd, he hasn't dated anyone in years when you first met. It's definitely not like he was in contact with them when you made it official, he was always firm when it came with communicating with past relationships.

That was a big no-no, especially when one of your ex's tried reaching out after your last movie dropped. Pedro made it very clear how unhappy he was when he made an appearance at your premiere- your boyfriend not daring to leave your side and even blocking your view whenever your ex had the chance to gawk you up close.

At the time, people thought Pedro only attended because he was close with the director and has always been friendly with other actors. Little did they know he was being extra friendly with you behind the curtains.

"Someone snapped photos of him outside of her door! It looks like he just woke up, too." Grabbing the phone from her hands, you pull it closer to your face and watch what the screen uncovered.

There he was, your boyfriend of two-years smiling brightly as he steps outside her door in the clothes he wore the night before. The same ones he manipulated you with about being with Diego and Oscar that night.

Not just that, but peering on the side of the door was indeed his tall, beautiful ex who definitely aged like fine wine. Hell, she was gorgeous and everybody knew that.

And the fact that they broke up due to their long distance, at the time, did not help this situation. Now that they lived a few cities away, what now? Were you just a doormat he could walk all over and eventually throw away whenever he wanted something new?

Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, you refuse to take your eyes off the screen as your assistant begins speaking. "Did you know he slept over?" Glancing up, she takes your downcast face as an answer and swiftly pulls you in a tight hug. "Oh no, I'm so sorry."

You were sorry for yourself, too. How could he lie right to your face so easily knowing he was doing it- intentionally. And the most fucked up part was he probably knew you would believe him- just like all the other times you did.

"I saw that picture!" Andrew exclaimed, bewildered at his recollection. "I thought the paparazzi caught him lacking after a hook-up- damn, I wish I would've known you were together sooner."

"Same, I would have unfollowed him," Florence added. "And nobody would've known it was because of you- since you two never been public."

Forcing a smile, you give her a tiny nudge on the arm. "Gee, thanks for being so considerate."

"Continue!"

"Open the god damn door, y/n. You are being overdramatic- it was one night! Nothing happened!" Pedro yelled, pulling the car handle harshly as you searched through your bag that sat on your passenger seat- looking to see if you had everything you needed before your flee.

Let's just say, things were pretty...eventful once you discovered his scheme.

For starters, after bawling your eyes out on your poor assistant's shoulder, she made her departure in order to clean up the spare bedroom she offered you to take if you weren't comfortable staying at your own place.

You accepted.

Once she was out the door, you fled to your bedroom and grabbed any suitcase close by and began stuffing it to the brim, not caring how disorganized it was professing as you reached for more clothes.

You were almost done packing your second bag full of makeup and bathroom necessities when you heard your front door open. Jumping up, you felt your eyes widen once you heard your name being chanted on by your boyfriend. "Y/n?!"

"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, drastically glancing around your now messy bathroom to make changes to your plan- only take things you really need.

Seconds pass and you find yourself zipping your bag and rushing out the door, that was until your body roughly collided with another- causing you to drop your belongings and land on the floor. Groaning, you hesitantly rise, immediately finding your boyfriend's body nearing yours as he pleads to help you off the ground.

"Baby, I'm sorry! I didn't see you coming out," he apologizes, using his fingertips to clasp your forearms to level you. "Look, I need to tell y-"

"Get off of me," you grit, forcibly slapping his palms off you, causing him to cease and stare stunned. He has never seen you once be this aggressive. Sure, you would reject his embrace whenever you two fought here and there, but slap? Not ever.

Brushing roughly past him, you gripped your larger suitcase by its handles and made a beam to the closest exit. You couldn't be around him, not when thoughts of him being unfaithful constantly drowned your head.

A strong tug of your makeup bag made you halt your movements, not by choice, as Pedro made sure to tighten his grip to prevent you from leaving. Glancing down at his now white, clenched hands, you glare. "Let go."

Shaking his head, he stared you down- irritated that you would just pack up and leave so quickly without even hearing his side of the story. Yes, he should have told you what really happened that night- but he knew how you'd react.

It was better to keep it sealed until he was ready to unveil- or so he thought.

"You let go," he hissed, raising one of his hands and smacking yours with it. You hate how much stronger he still was while only using one hand while you had two- fuck his strength and your poor muscles.

Groaning, you dig your feet onto the ground harder as you continue your tug-a-war charade with your selfish boyfriend who didn't seem to believe space was an understandable coping mechanism after he shattered your small heart.

"Fine," you yelp, shoulders falling slightly as he eases his grip- still holding on though. "We both let go on 3."

Tilting his head, he suddenly grew suspicious by your random middle ground. He knew you well enough to know you don't give up that easily, especially when he's fully sure, by your bolting efforts, you saw the picture. "How do I know you won't just run off after?"

"You're faster and stronger than me, you'll catch me eventually."

Internally agreeing, he knew you had a point. Even if you did escape, your little legs weren't going to get you far- he knows from all the times he tackled you down after you countlessly would steal his food.

"1," you begin, eyeing him to see if he would follow.

"2," he stared at you back, cautiously watching your every step.

Taking a deep breath, you count again. "3!" With that, you release your grip from your bag and watch as he still clutches on to the strap. "What the hell- we agreed on 3 we'd both let go!"

Nervously chuckling, he placed the bag on the ground and sheepishly smiled at you. He was glad to see you finally calming down. "Sorry, I didn't think you would actually do it."

Sending him an annoyed glance, he scratches the back of his neck for assuming you wouldn't follow your word. "Trust me, I always tell the truth."

Wincing at your cold tone, he frowns by your hard demeanor. "About that- I was going to tell you-"

Softly placing a hand over your head, you release a sound of discomfort and miss the way his eyes wander in curiosity.

"Can we talk about this after I take my supplements? I am not feeling too good," you cut him off, slowly touching your forehead as you watch his concern grow. "I forgot to take them this morning."

"You know you get bad migraines when you don't take them," he declared, sighing as he raised his hand and began softly rubbing your temple in ease.

He believed you were being serene because you weren't livid and allowed him to stop you from leaving- how wrong he was.

"I know but I had a crammed morning-"

"This is why we need to hire someone to walk Leia, we don't have enough time majority of the week!" he exhales, making you stare at the floor for the point taken. But there was no way you'd hire someone to walk your dog, that's ridiculous and a waste of money. "We'll talk after, let me grab them- stay here."

Sadly nodding, you allow him to flee towards your bathroom in search for your medicine. Peering you head a few inches to the side, you wait till the coast is clear before slowly, but firmly, grabbing your once lost bag and dashing out of your bedroom.

"I almost forgot about Leia," you muttered to yourself, instantly feeling bad at the thought of how quick you were to forget your baby. How terrible of a mother were you.

And what even was more mind blowing was how Pedro didn't catch your innocent acting. Truthfully, he must be trying to be extra helpful so you would believe him. Too late.

Finding your white corgi near the kitchen, you whistle lowly for her to follow as you peddled your way to your garage. "C'mon doggie, if daddy notices our escape plan he won't let us leave that easil-"

"Y/n?!"

Jaw dropping, you shoot a glance of panic to your dog, who only blankly stares back, before rushing to your parked car. "Just like Batman and Robin- now jump in," you hushed, opening the back seat so you could not only throw your bags back there- but also your tiny-legged corgi who struggles at first, but eventually makes it in.

Once you jumped into your seat and turned on the car, you catch a breathless Pedro rushing out through the door to your side. "Fuck."

"You tricked me!"

"You slept with another woman, asshole!" you yell back, glaring as he rolled his eyes- outraged by how unreasonable you were becoming. All he wanted to do was sit you down and have a normal conversation about this, but instead you kept running away.

Once again, he thinks you need to work on your communication skills.

"You used your failing health to your advantage- how sick are you?" he yelped, offended.

"They were gummy supplements!"

Touching your car door, he sternly peers at you as you quickly lock your doors in case he tried opening it. "I did not sleep with another woman," he started, inhaling strongly before releasing it. "Why would I do that when I am in a committed relationship? Huh? Do you think I am capable of cheating?"

Shrugging innocently, you pull a sarcastic face. "Not sure, I do know you're capable of lying- maybe infidelity is the cherry on top?"

Mouth gapping, he sends you a look of hurt and for a second you feel terrible by your choice of words. In your heart, you wanted to take it back- but your head thought otherwise.

"I would never be unfaithful to you- that's not who I am," he firmly states, feeling like absolute shit that you would even accuse him of being with another woman when you were all he thought about every single second of the day.

Dryly chuckling, you nod along to his words. He feels his heart ache, as if hundreds of knives jabbed through the delicate muscle by your painful mien. Did you really think that lowly of him?

"That's who you are to me now."

Once those words flew out of your mouth and he was able to process it clearly, he paused. Whole body turning stiff and cold, he scolded you profoundly before fiercefully charging towards your car door and pounding for entrance.

It was like a nerve was touched and he was not willing to be forgiving anymore. You struck him hard and he knew you meant it out of pure anger- not genuinely, but his awareness soon became replaced with treachery and he so badly wanted you to pay for your foul words.

"Open the god damn door, y/n. You are being overdramatic- it was one night! Nothing happened!" Pedro yelled, pulling the car handle harshly as you searched through your bag that sat on your passenger seat- looking to see if you had everything you needed before fleeing.

Mentally checking off your items before departure, you inhale sharply before lowering down your car's mirror and pressing your garage remote- allowing the door to gradually rise and Pedro to panic.

Cursing in his head, he couldn't let you drive away or else he might never see you for days and he couldn't bear the thought of you moping around in agony without at least hearing from him- the man in the picture- what actually happened that night.

Pressing on the lever and angling down to reverse, you nervously press on the gas and allow your car to drift back as your poor dog watched through the backseat his dad embarrassingly urging you to not go.

You prayed the neighbors couldn't hear a thing, if the cops came you're sure you would never go out in public for at least six months.

Realizing that it was now or never, you see from the corner of your eye a figure running towards the back of your car before a loud thump was heard.

Shakily, pressing on the brakes and putting your car on park, you jump out in horror by the sight of legs near your back tires.

You hit him.

"Shit!" you gasped, involuntarily sprinting- as if your body just knew how to react- and dropping down to your boyfriend's lifeless body-

"You ran him over?!" Andrew and Florence shrieked, interrupting your storytelling, causing you to glare and shush them.

"Shut the fuck up- it's getting to the interesting part!"

Hugging his body tightly, you could feel your face began to fall down and your body slowly begin to tremble. In a matter of seconds, you just knew your garage wasn't going to be a pretty sight to see.

Hitching your breath, you run your hands to your boyfriend's chest and shake him softly in hopes he would open his eyes- he didn't. With tears flushing down your face, you sniff as you grip onto him harder. "Please w-wake up," you begin, trying your best to keep your touch on him but you were a jittering mess. Not being able to stay still, you press your ear over his chest to see his he still had a pulse.

Sighing in relief, he did.

Squeezing his face, you frown as his expressionless face stills. Realizing he might have passed out over a concussion, your lips begin to tremble as you finally breakdown in tears and cradle him.

Leaning over from his side, you bend your body and embrace his head into your neck. "I am such a-a fucking idiot," you squeak, your eyes shutting as you don't have the power to keep them open. "I-I love you- I should've just stayed and t-talked-!"

Cutting yourself off, you ironically feel like the lifeless one despite your literal unconscious boyfriend being in your arms at the moment. Bitch, you really had the nerve. Swiftly kissing his cheek, you plunge yourself into his neck and cushion him with your body- being as fragile as ever when handling him.

Quivering in misery, you keep a strong grip onto him before you felt pressure along your side. "It's been minutes and you still haven't called 911? I could've been dead by now."

Screaming, you instantly drop the figure once on top of you and force your thighs to back up, causing you to sit perplexed on the concrete floor.

Glancing back up, you find your boyfriend brightly grinning your way, using his arms to hold his upper portion up as you looked back in confusion. Didn't you hit him?

"I was my own stunt double for some scenes," he speaks up, smiling to himself proud as you continued staying still, confused as to what had just happened. "As long as you have the right mentality- you can take a pounding."

Registering where he was going with this, you scoff and quickly allow your feet to hit the ground. Following after you, Pedro jumps at your unpleased sight and watches as you cooly open your back door to let your dog jump out before marching towards the door to your house.

"Wait? Are you mad at me for that, too?" He calls out, tilting his head in question and proceeds to get his answer by the slamming of the door behind you. "Never mind."

Angrily storming through your hallway, you accidentally run into the wooden desk placed against the wall. "Ugh!" you scream, turning around and giving it one hard kick before making your way towards your destination- the kitchen.

"What did the desk ever do to you?" Pedro mumbled to himself, stopping right by it once you were out of sight and fixing it back up against the wall, making sure the books settled on top were nested properly before going after you.

"So that's why one of the legs is chipped? I noticed that-"

"Shut up, Andrew."

"Sorry, go on."

Finding you near the blacked marbled kitchen bar, Pedro ceased his movements. To be honest, he was nervous to confront you. Not only did you find out he slept at his ex girlfriend's house, but he made you believe he was dead.

This was not going to end well.

"How could you do this to me?" He hears you ask, you back being in his peripheral view as you leaned your body over the counter, hands gripping the ends roughly.

"Do what?" he idiotically responds back, mentally slapping himself for having the audacity to question something he surely knows.

Slowly turning around, capturing his soft yet worried eyes, he catches onto your tear ones and breaks down on the inside. "Tell me the truth." you gulp, averting your eyes to your feet as you sense him bobble his head. "Did you sleep with her?"

Choking on air, he frantically shakes his head in dismay, not believing you would actually think that despite the past half an hour of him comprehending that you might so. Maybe he just couldn't believe it would ever come out of your mouth- but this whole situation made him nauseous.

Steadily finding his balance, he inched towards your frail body as you kept your contact with the floor strong, not daring to move it even when the sight of his shoes play in your mind. "Honey," he lowly calls out, lifting his fingers to your chin and hastily bringing your vision to his own. "No- I did not sleep or engage in any sexual nor romantic activity with her."

"Then why did you go to her house and not tell me?!" you cried, nudging his hand off your face, him immediately aiming towards your waist to still have you near. "Why would you do this to me? Why would you sleep over when you know how I would feel?"

"I can't tell you," he confesses, whispering softly. Feeling your face fall, you erupt into tears again as you lift up your palms to hide behind them.

Hiccuping, your hands twitch as they support your weight and force you to fall on top of the counter and continue watering your tears there. Everything was unfair and he couldn't seem to realize how bad your fights have progressed throughout the months.

"If you really care about me," you whimper, still behind your hands as he rubs circles on your waist. "You would consider my feelings and understand why I should know what you did with her."

Sighing, he releases you waist and rubs his forehead in frustration. Pedro wasn't the type to hide things in relationships. In fact, he was amazing when it came to expressing feelings and being honest while you were the same- but you typically took longer to reveal your troubles than he did.

But no matter how loyal he was to you, it wasn't his place to share someone else's business no matter who the association may be.

"I know, baby. I know- believe me," he whispers, pulling you in for a hug and lifting you off the counter as your sobs were felt among his chest. It broke his heart. "But I can't betray her, she needed me and trusted me to see her. I can't just deceive her."

"But you can do that to me?" you reply, catching him off guard as he shuts his eyes tightly by how accurate you were being. "It's okay, I understand."

"No," he shakes his head, groaning before staring you down. "You don't understand, hell- I don't understand this either. But what I need you to know is I did not kiss, flirt, wink, tease, or touch her in any sexual way. We did not have sex - there was no removing of any clothing-"

"Then why did you sleepover?!"

"She needed me," he simply replies, causing you to laugh ridiculy.

"I needed you and you left me," you spit out harshly, not believing how he could defend himself and think you would ever fine with it.

Grunting, he runs his hand over his hair before pouring all of his stress onto you. "What do you want me to do? I told you what happened- she needed me, I helped her, it took longer than expected so I fell asleep on the couch- do you want to touch my knotted back for proof? Because you can!"

"Why am I the one being yelled at?" you respond, watching his face fall in disappointment.

Staying in your position for a minute or two, you continued examining him as he did the same, not knowing where this was headed. That was until he motioned with his hand for you to move closer.

"Come here."

Furrowing your brows, you pause at his words. Did he think hugging was going to solve all of your problems- because it wasn't. "No-"

Feeling his arms glide up along your upper body and finally wrapping around your shoulders, he pressed you up against his chest into the warmest bear hug you might have engaged in.

It was...peaceful.

Sighing, he felt your body soften by the touch. Relaxing, you closed your eyes as he made it his mission to not ease up on his grip. "I didn't do anything with her," he whispers, laying his face comfortably on your shoulder. "I promise, I love you."

Sadly, his confession made you break down more as tears flooded your face and your body fell upon his grip. Easily wrapping his palms on the back of your head, he cradled you tightly and never left your sight once the rest of that day and week.

And that's how that fight ended- with you trusting his sweet nothings and letting him take over your body with his hugs and kisses because he somehow made you believe him.

Every single time.

You wish you could have moved on from that topic that night as you allowed him to show you how much he loved you, but unfortunately that wasn't an option.

Especially when paparazzi exploited more pictures with him and his ex the following weeks later.

"And what about your last fight? You know- the one that ended things," Andrew started, making you halt. "What happened then?"

Quickly standing up, you brushed your sweatpants down before sending him a tight smile. Now that you talked about sad memories you hadn't really thought of in months, you knew the mention of your last fight would only break you.

You weren't ready to undergoing the same pain you felt that night.

"I didn't know these talks about my past would take a toll on me, but they have. I don't want to talk about it, but I appreciate the two of you checking up on me- I really do, but I think its time for me to take a shower and maybe nap- it's been a tiring day."

Feeling your discomfort, Florence and Andrew exchanged a weary glance before looking back up to you, hesitantly nodding. Probably an intense memory, they were determined not to mention it again unless you came forward.

"Alright- but give us a call if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or just plain old company!" Florence smiled, wrapping her arms around you for a quick hug before pulling back. "We can even have a sleepover."

"Count me out on that one," Andrew joked, bending down to give you the same hug. "But for real, you can cry on my shoulder any time."

"Thanks," you giggle, soon following them towards your front door as they say goodbye to your dog before departing in their own cars.

What an emotional day it has been.

-

"Do I really have to go? It's no use- I already seen the film. I don't want to rewatch it," you whine as your manager hushes you.

Walking down the side of the theatre, you clutch onto the oversized, black leather jacket you were wearing as your manager and assistant walked on either side of you, directing to to the entrance of a random theatre in the city.

Since the Oscars, nothing has really changed. It's been about three weeks now and there wasn't chaos anymore- it seemed like news about that night had already faded.

Regularly, you did chat with Florence, Shailene, and Andrew on the phone- individually at times throughout your past weeks- but nothing too crazy.

You all had your busy schedules and your manager was still being as hardworking as ever trying to exploit more of you to the press and on the screen. Safe to say, every time she had news it would always be something impressive.

Except for today, when she proudly announced after barging into your house during breakfast that there was a new film premiere you had to attend.

It's not like you opposed the idea- but you watched the film when the production team invited you to their private screening. It would be useless watching it again.

But as persistent as ever, your manager claimed there would be great press and directors attending the public's premiere, following with "an Oscar-nominated actress like you must make themself remembered."

As dramatic as always- but at least she was highly active in your career.

She did everything to make you get noticed, especially when you were at your lowest point mentally after your breakup.

Now onto past relationships, you hadn't heard any news regarding Pedro since you last saw him. Not that you wanted to, but for some reason he was still on your mind. Due to the fact you did sit with your friends ranting about your shared troubles, that's likely the reason.

But all jokes aside, you seriously can't stop thinking about him.

However, you were too scared to admit this to anyone. You tried telling Florence, but every time you mentioned his name she would immediately disregard him, pissed by how he treated you.

Which you loved that she had your back, but you needed someone else to have his own- oddly.

Maybe it was your head deep in thoughts that revealed how you were feeling, but your assistant seemed to notice that you weren't okay- mentally.

After checking in and finding a small crowd, you accepted that maybe most of the audience were in their seats already despite the film starting in almost an hour. Nudging you once your manager left to find one of the producers, you glanced at her as she motioned you to move towards the wall.

"What's up?"

She made a face, practically laughing at your question before continuing on. "Why don't you tell me 'what's up?' The whole ride here you've been silent and I know it's not because you were tired- you slept all afternoon, what's really up?"

Chuckling, you roll her eyes at how nosy she was being- but you knew she only wanted to help you. After working together for years, it was a ritual both of you performed: don't let the other be sad.

Surprisingly, it worked every time. She would hide you from people who upset you while you let her have more vacation days whenever she felt the same.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're thinking about him, huh."

Eyes widening, you shake your head quickly as she laughs at your poor attempt of denying her idea. But she knew right from the moment you got lost in your head that he was the one to blame.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," she whispered loudly, causing you to shove her as she laughed louder.

"Shut up, someone might hear you," you hiss, watching as she tried holding her breath to stop herself from cackling again. She just looked like a fish in need of water.

"Don't think about him then," she teased. "If it's making you lost in your thoughts! Wait- why is he in your head? I thought you hated him?"

Coughing, you shake your head. "I don't hate him- I could never."

"Never?" she raises a brow in shock. "I think we're seeing some progress here. You're falling back in loveeeee with him."

"No way," you scoffed as she grinned heavily. "I'm just thinking about the Oscars since that was the last work-related event I've been to since today and you know- he was there so he ended up in my mind...for a little."

She slowly nods, teasing a smug as makes it pretty clear she did not believe one word you said. Your assistant has seen everything, so she is quite familiar with your thoughts regarding Pedro.

She knows when your happily, sadly, angrily, and crazily daydreaming about him. In this case, she's stuck between happily and crazily- not seeming to find any hints of fury and sorrow through your expressions.

But definitely warmth and frustration- all due to him not being able to leave your head.

"When are you just going to admit you still love him?" She blurts out, causing you to snap your heard towards her. "Everybody sees it, you obviously have a soft spot for him if you let him be near you."

"Near me? He's never near me," you laugh. "And I never show signs I want him back, I don't. I made it clear for months now after perfectly avoiding him at all costs."

"Yeah, but he's still on your mind- that must mean something," she declares, causing your small grin to fall into a tight line.

That must mean something.

Did it?

Shaking that thought away, you reject her idea. "It means he traumatized me."

"It means you're in denial and scared to be with him again," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. "Look, I just know you two are meant to be. Next time you see him, talk to him. Tell him how much you care for him- even if you don't want to admit it in a lovey-dovey way. It can be friendly!"

Giving her a strange look, she lowers her energy quickly before looking around the room, making sure no one saw how enthuastic she became.

"You get the point!" she rolls her eyes. "Just be nice, maybe the both of you can form a friendship or just drift apart knowing there's no hard feelings."

"But there is hard feelings," you declared, pointing out the obvious.

There is a reason why you two broke up, like there is also a reason why you despise him. It all comes down to history and actions, which you've both experienced- which is why, again, you broke up.

"Just..." she started, thinking about it for a second before sending you a sincere glance. "-give it a shot. If you don't hate him, like you said, it wouldn't be terrible to be civil."

Slowly nodding, you understand where she's coming from. This tension between Pedro and you was getting old, and the fact it was only you adding fuel to the non-existent fire since you've broken up is sad.

Especially when all he's been around you was sweet and considerate of your feelings, leaving you alone when he felt your energy- except for that one night, but you have to admit that was your fault for riling him up.

The roughness of heels came marching your way, forcing the both of you to instantly lift your head- finding your manager striking a fake breaming grin with two men beside her. She was trying too hard.

"Girls! This is Greg and Shawn- the writers of the film!" she exclaimed, fluttering her lashes rapidly as both men awkwardly raised a hand, waving it.

Releasing a tiny chuckle, you do the same as your assistant walks closer, sticking out her hand to fully gain their attention and introduce herself.

What can you say- she was a charmer.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, your manager slightly pulls you closer to the strangers and strangely bobbles her head- preparing whatever gibberish was about to spit out of her talkative mouth.

"Y/n- the boys thought it would be a great idea to sit in the vip selection among other A-listers- isn't that just lovely? We are very grateful for your offer-"

Boys? Oh god- now she was bonding for her hopeful chances of getting a call for an audition.

Compelling a sweet smile, you feel the only possible response you could give them was a meaningless 'thank you so much' after she literally put you on blast to communicate more. The funniest part about this situation was- you already watched the film!

Clearly you never met these writers- but instead the director himself! Your manager should be satisfied enough with that.

"Would you look at the time,-" Greg- you believe, softly gasps while raising his arm to examine the tiny apple watch planted. "Guests are probably filling up in their seats by now, terribly sorry- but we should probably go."

"I hadn't realized how close we were to showtime- we certainly must continue off our conversation after the film is over!" Shawn proclaims, making your manager nod far too quickly. "I look forward to meeting again."

With that, the two men inclined their motions of farewells before taking off down a dimmed hall, likely finding the exact destination set to premiere their comedic film.

Sighing, you send daggers to your managers who barely blinks before coughing out a swift, "What?"

"You really couldn't wait till after the film was over to sweet talk them?"

Dramatically rolling her eyes at your annoyance, she waves you off by your sudden introversion. It was her job to throw her best compliments about you too them, and she knew you were still too young to understand that everything she did was for a cost.

You.

"C'mon grumpy, let's locate the theatre before you start whining that your feet hurt, too."

Feeling your mouth slightly drop from her remark, you hear your assistant cackle right beside you, using her right palm to hold in her giggles while you mentally prepared for what comeback to throw her way.

You got nothing.

Huffing, your legs followed hers as she guided the two of you towards the same hall the men approached minutes before. The closer you've walked, the larger the capacity gathered around.

For such a low-budget film, it sure did gain quite the crowd.

As the rolling of the ending credits flooded the screen once you sat the last two and a half hours trying to act as if you didn't know what was coming next, you wish you had it in you to say the second time made up for the first- but it didn't.

There we have it, tonight was just not your night and endlessly enough- you couldn't blame it on some silly excuse of watching the same film over again.

Not even your assistant's sneaky offerings of her red licorice lifted your blues- and that speaks enough volume to say the least.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" the whole-heartedly voice of your manager's voice filled your ears as the three of you sat in the same lobby as before, still not finding a way to escape a cold room.

Oh how you abominated the sharp hits of the air conditioning- it frankly made coming to the theaters a horror unless layers of clothing and a blanket was tagged along.

"Why can't we leave? The film is done and people are walking out."

"We still have to talk to Shawn and Greg!" your manager declared, presenting a look of pure determination to get her way with their levels of skill.

Groaning, you throw your head in absolute exhaustion. Fairly, if your manager hadn't had made such an early visit during the morning hours you're sure you would've been in a better mood.

It was like the more you interacted, the less energy you had to give.

In order to survive the next few hours, you needed your phone or who knows how your fake laughters will sound.

And you call yourself an actress.

Sliding your hand to the back of your pockets, you wait for the feel of your large iphone to surface- but that moment never comes. Swiftly, you check your leather jacket ones just in case you slipped it there without realizing.

You didn't.

Anxiously glancing towards your assistant, your trembling hands find her arm. "Have you seen my phone? It's not on me."

Examining your hands before meeting your eyes, she shrugs it off. "Relax, no need to have a nervous breakdown- I'm sure you left it in the car with your bag-"

"No, I had it on me during the previews."

"We did go to the bathroom, too- why not just go check those two places?" she suggests. Concerned filled you, hoping nobody was capable of actually stealing your phone- it would be such a hassle getting another one. "I'll check the bathroom, you check our seats."

Agreeing, the two of you sneakily escape your manager when her back was turned, unpleasantly speed walking down the familiar hall before parting ways to your needed locations.

Opening the thick, black doors and striding up the long runway, your eyes are met with the same darkened seating area you were in less than twenty minutes ago.

Then and there, you use this desertion in power- running towards the middle rows consider 'vip' and begin your inspection. Fuck, you wish your had some form of light to help- you couldn't see shit.

Sliding your fingers among the seat, you lift up the cushions in hopes it mysteriously pops up, but all you find is pieces of popcorn and gum glued down.

Gross.

Feeling your eyes begin to water, you were sure you were seconds away from crying like a little kid over the loss of your beloved possession before you heard a deep voice call out for your attention.

"Is this yours? I heard it ringing when I came back in and- uh," the person froze, not having the ability to finish off their sentence as you gradually lifted your body off the floor into their view.

Hopelessly praying the stranger was regarding your phone, your eyes search for their hands first and there it was- your phone!

The corners of your mouth lift up, as well as the creases around your eyes as you internally cheer for your discovery. However, it faltered once you noticed a familiar tattoo laying on one of their palms. Moving your eyes up, you're sure your smile completely disappears once you recognize those brown eyes.

How did you not catch onto his voice from down there?

"Uh- yeah- that's mine," you nervously reply, choking on your words that probably made you sound like you were about to lose consciousness by how strung you were, and hesitantly reach out for the device.

Pedro quietly lets you grab it, not saying one word as your hands collide for a split second before the object was back in your own. You didn't miss the name that appeared on the lit up screen when touched- your assistant must have tried calling you to see if the phone would ring in the bathroom.

Smart.

Avoiding awkward farewells, Pedro swiftly turns around and makes his way down the theatre stairs, not daring to continue on with the barely existing conversation you shared. He's leaving, that fast?

Thinking about all your past interactions, he would always try to chat with you- even when you did give him the coldest shoulder of all time- because that's who he was: kind.

But now he's...walking away?

"Hey- uhm," you begin, following clumsily after him, almost tripping on one of the steps as he reaches his final steps and doubtfully turns your way. Once you stood another step ahead of him, you feel that swirling feeling in your stomach again.

You were nervous- you've never felt this way around him during your breakup- never.

Adjusting your arms inside your jacket, a small smile is extracted out of you as you watch his stay flat. He did not look interested one bit and it frightened you to death. "Thanks for finding my phone- I-I was really scared there for a minute."

Not reacting to your little laugh at the end, he replied- dull. "I didn't know it was yours, I would have given it to guest services if so."

Ouch, you're sure you're hurt expression was recognizable on the outside as much as it pained you on the inside. He really did not want to talk to you, even when you're showing your appreciation.

He really was over you.

"I know," you squeak out, not missing the way his eyes tiredly scanned your own as his body stood there stiff as ever. "I just wanted to thank you, that's all- you saved me a lot of trouble."

Coldly laughing from that, he nods. "I'm sure I have."

Your body tingled with rage as he carelessly ignored your warmth and threw jabs in return. "What's with the attitude? I'm doing nothing wrong here- I'm trying to be friendly."

Inching up, his face presents a sullen one and you immediately feel intimated by the height he owned and used as his advantage. Just the first few seconds before he spoke alone made you feel his displeasure. "And what about all those times I was friendly? I received shit so forgive me for allowing you to experience the same treatment you give others."

Loss for words, you were speechless and didn't know what to say back. For one, you were alarmed by his hard demeanor he gifted to you. Second, humiliation soared throughout as he called out your imperfections.

In other words, he wanted you to know you were a bitch.

"And I take that back but-"

Pedro was about to burst out laughing in front of your face, but he held himself together in sake of your feelings. Can you believe that, despite the misery he still cared for your state of mind. "Taking back isn't apologizing."

Sneering, you cross your arms as his eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "Apologize for what? You were the one who fucked my life over."

Scoffing, he shakes his head in vexation by your lack of empathy- as always. "Countless of times we would contemplate our faults and how we could move on and now you're discounting your wrongdoings- typical."

Pedro did not want to have another unpleasant argument with you, especially in a public setting again, and decided it was best to just walk away. If he kept his mouth shut, he wouldn't make this altercation worse.

Meeting his broad back, you lightly gasp as he ignores you altogether and makes his leave far too early for your liking. Charging towards him, you feel his back solidify once your fingers yank him to a halt.

You were not done with this conversation, but you did know once you got home you were definitely going to regret how toxic you were radiating in the room.

"Typical? What do you mean by that?"

"Knock it off and let me walk away, y/n," Pedro warns, still facing his back towards you after blocking your attempts of moving him. "We both know how badly this will end."

You know, but for some reason you don't want him to leave. Was that so bad?

"No, I wanna hear exactly what you have to say about me- maybe it'll make me recognize the ignorant ego I have."

"You're talking out in anger, you're trying to cause a fire that I won't let you ignite," he simply replies, his eyes still not found by his hidden appearance.

Very poetic.

Scowling profoundly, you don't realize what you're doing until you're finally met with his provoked display after. Stalking around his body, you stand in front of him and jab a finger towards his chest. "You're preventing me from bettering myself, isn't that what you always wanted?"

Leaning down until his face with inches away from yours, you make out his hard features clearly now. His face expressed discomfort as his eyes creased while lifting- even his lips stayed hard as a rock. "I'm going to tell you one more time, let me go."

Ignoring his cold shoulder, he inhaled a sharp breath before taking matters into his own hands. You don't want to listen? Fine. But he wasn't going to let you drag him into this any further.

Right as you push another finger up against him, your wrist was taken and roughly pushed down by your side as Pedro's body practically belted against yours. "Get off me!"

"Not until you stop fucking around," he grunted, immediately widening his eyes in realization. He knows you don't like when he casually curses directly to you- even when he doesn't harm. "Sorry- I-I meant when you stop playing around."

Praying that a smile doesn't escape you, it made you feel some type of way capturing his manners and how even though you two were on rocky terms- he still had some respect for you.

"Why are we even fighting right now?" you sigh, slowly softening your muscles in forfeit.

"You tell me- it sounds like you want my attention," he casually replied, releasing your hands and stepping back an inch. "Considering you won't let me leave."

"I'm just trying to have a normal, polite conversation! Is that so wrong?"

Softly laughing, he shakes his head in disappointment. "You don't get it."

Scrunching your face, you become lost by his words. "Get what?"

Scanning the wall before meeting your eyes again, Pedro motions his hands between the two of you. "What do you think will come out of us having a conversation? Acquaintances? Maybe a friendship?"

Thinking about it for a second, you feel your head eventually nod as he squeezes his eyes shut in return. Was that not what he's been trying to do- end in good terms? "It's what's healthy for us."

"Us?!" Pedro groans, sending you a tired gaze that had you weak to the knees. "There is no 'us' anymore. You made that perfectly clear after causing a scene last month in front of your friends."

"I didn't plan on that happening a-"

"I'm even letting go the bigger scene you caused inside the after party- isn't that enough to understand why I feel this way?" he adds on, frustrated that you would think otherwise.

You were the one who caused the attention and brought a bad look on his name. He should be shouting at you like you would have done to him if the roles were reversed.

"I'm not saying we should get back together, all I want-"

"-is a friendship? Some sort of relation that won't make us strangers?" he interjects, causing you to stay silent. That was all he needed to understand what you really wanted: not to let him go. "Look, we had our history, but I don't think it's good we keep in contact anymore."

You swear you felt all air leave your body as your face felt cold. Was he breaking up with you- in life itself?

"I-uhm don't- I don't understand," you cough, scared to make a bigger fool out of yourself. You're sure you probably look like a ghost by how much color you've lost since his recent reveal and again- you were grateful this room was dim. "Why can't we at least be friends? Not even that- why can't we at least know we have each other in our lives? Why end up as strangers?"

"What do you mean? We hadn't talked to each other in almost a year till last month! We basically are strangers," he exclaimed, causing you to look down at your feet as your heart ached.

He wasn't wrong- you just hadn't realized he's been right. And to blame was you, not him. You pushed him away in the first place, he was only kind enough to oblige.

And it was surely pathetic how now you wanted him back in your life, even if it meant not even talking just to assure yourself he still had your back.

He didn't.

"Y/n..." he sadly muttered, trying his best not to hurt your feelings as you were still continued to stay downwards- not wanting to disclose more hurt. "You didn't even say happy birthday to me, how can you be considered a friend? Friends don't do that, not to me at least."

This caused you to glance back up to him, disagreeing immediately as to what he was trying to get at. Of course you knew it was his birthday, you celebrated two with him in the past! "I didn't want to make things weird-"

"You never do but still avoid me like the plague and breakdown whenever I'm too close to your liking. I'm sorry for trying to do what's best and leave us in the past,-" he explains, closing his eyes in discomfort, "-but I can't keep letting this go on. I'm too old to be going back and forth as if this is some high school relationship- it's not."

High school relationship- you never knew simple three words could have you shrinking in guilt.

"And I know things will be easier for you when the time comes- I won't be around to nag you," Pedro tries to lighten up the mood but you can't break the line upon your lips. You were emotionless and it made Pedro upset.

Why would he be upset? You finally deserved learning your lesson after treating him as if he was nothing to you. But despite all your flaws, he still cared for you.

He cares so much that he's willing to let you go so you can do better things in life- without him.

Trying to find the right words to say, you give up. There isn't much to discuss now that he wants nothing to do with you.

You fucked up- for real this time.

In fact, you shouldn't even be hurt- you wanted this. Or at least that's what you thought before last month when he wasn't on your mind 24/7.

Maybe it was the way he begged for your forgiveness after not seeing each other for so long that made you realize how badly you adored him nearby.

Maybe it was the attention he was giving you after you continuously rejected his pleads, furthering the argument until he stormed off in the end.

And maybe you should've took his concluding estrangement announcement seriously before he left you last month.

But just like they say, you never know what you have until it's gone.

"I see," you quietly respond, slowly nodding as a faint grin forms among Pedro's lips, appreciating your cooperation over this mess. "Maybe it is best if we stray away from each other- you can even delete my number."

"I already have," he accidentally blurts out, not realizing how bad that sounds until he hears it himself and cringes. Your sufferable reaction didn't make things better.

"You know what," you fake a laugh, trying to calm your voice as you feel it about to crack any second. The tears were heading your way- you just knew it. "Fuck you."

Pedro's face falls, taken back by your inappropriate language. "Excuse me?"

Noticing your rushed attitude, he wanted to stop you and tell you everything was alright. That everything was going to be easy and how the two of you would get passed this.

But he knew he'd be lying.

"You heard me, fuck you," you casually slip out, scoffing as his eyes darken. "For someone who's so kind to others, I would have thought you would know what words were right to say."

"You're one to talk, sweetheart," he chuckled, staring at you in repulse. "Every time you talk you always have to neglect someone else, I'm fucking glad I don't have to witness that ever again."

"Me too, my family was right- you are a joke who wasted my time."

With that, you make your leave to have the chance of having the last word. Maybe if you left this room faster he would forget about your comment. You knew it was harsh but you didn't know what else to say.

You wanted him to hurt- but to what extent?

Your arm was instantly tugged as Pedro pulled you back, not letting his grip go as his face was still filled with resentment. "And your team was right, you are a bitch."

Freezing, you stare at him in shock as his face doesn't fall once. What the hell is he talking about? "Get away from me or else-"

"Or else what? Weren't you the one physically blocking me from leaving minutes ago? What has changed?" he tries to smirk, manipulating you into believing how ruthless he could be when really he was dying to tell you the act he was pulling. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your face felt hot with rage as you yanked your arm off his hand, catching him by surprise as you glared at him. "I'm so glad I never took you back, you're fucking pathetic."

"And I'm insanely glad you didn’t, saved thousands returning that fucking ring."

Those twelve words made you halt and even made Pedro speechless. By the staggered look planted on his face, you could tell he didn't mean to say that.

Ring? As in, an engagement ring?

Weakly failing to stand straight, you felt your voice crack. "You were going to propose?"

Shaking his head, he swiftly backed away. "I need to go." Before you could stop him, he was already out of the theatre and probably near larger gatherings of people that would only prevent you from talking about this more.

Holding your face with your hands, you couldn't even cry. You didn't know what to do, you were utterly lost for words.

If he was really going to propose like he hinted at, what meaning did your last fight have? Nothing made sense and you don't know how you could move on from this now that he wanted you out of his life completely.

Hearing doors open, you instantly averted your gaze in hopes he had come back in and planned to properly finish what he started.

Instead, you manager came barging in while gripping onto your assistant's wrist harshly.

"Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere and to find out your stupid assistant-"

"Don't you dare disrespect her," you sternly cut her off, watching as her face falters by your sudden tone. "If you're here to pester us some more, feel free to walk home."

Laughing in shock, your manager tilts her head at your rudeness. "Excuse me? It wasn't my fault your assistant wondered off. After everything I have done to protect you and your career you feel the need to throw me out-"

"Did she hurt you?" you cut her off, focusing on your assistant who has gone quiet. You notice the redness on her small wrists before she slowly nods, looking down in fear your manager would try something else.

"You're fired," you simply state, pushing past your frantic ex- manager as you lightly guide your assistant out the door.

You ignore the rage your ex- manager unveils as you make it back to the lobby. Ignoring the waves random people sent your way in hopes of finding your destined car sooner so you could help your assistant with her injuries and be home already.

And in bed to think about what the fuck just happened tonight.

+

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[entomolog-t]

Bitten- Part II

Back to back posting ? Its more likely than you think! Can't keep you guys waiting too long 💕 I've been having so much fun with this AU while trying to actually get ahead with Bite Me

In this part we see that though the dynamic might have changed, these two most certainly have not.

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias

- - - -

First Part

Next Part: Tuesday!

Word count: 2030

CW: Nudity (non-explicit), Adult language

Aedes, thought June, was indescribably fucking hot. 

Her heart pounded in her chest as if it were dying to throw itself at him. A wash of emotions swirling in her chest as she stares up at the man in front of her. 

What the fuck is going on? This has to be a dream, right? A wildly vivid dream brought on by a guilty conscience? Her eyes wander, catching sight of his … lack of clothing. 

Perhaps this was a different kind of dream.

“June…” his whisper came as a low rumble. June’s breath caught in her throat, heat rising to her face as if she were a kettle reaching its boiling point- though, thankfully, she refrained from screaming. Since when did he know her name? 

At her non response, his brows knit together, the massive landscape of his face shifting to that of concern. A shiver ran down her spine at his gaze, so overwhelmingly locked on her. It was… stripping in a way, seeming to take so much of her in that it left her feeling bare.

It took her brain an awkward second to realize that the feeling was not exclusive to her mind. June Murphy sat there, in a bed that seemed like it could have hosted a football game, let alone her, completely and utterly bare naked. 

Aedes watches June as her hands, so unfathomably small, grip her blanket and slowly pull it to her chest.

His brain freezes at that last word.

Her… naked chest. 

Heat rising to scorch his cheeks, Aedes turns his head, a muffled noise escaping him as all at once the awe and strangeness of the situation evaporates- like a fog being lifted by the heat of the rising sun, or in his case, the heat of his rising embarrassment. Gaze averted, his mind races. 

Just what exactly was going on? He’d avoided seeing her, let alone speaking to her since… they met… a meeting he certainly wasn’t keen on revisiting… Yet now, in the unprecedented strangeness of whatever the fuck was going on, it was clear he couldn’t just go back to avoiding her.

Aedes swallows, a nervous lump forming in his throat at the thought of just how he was supposed to navigate something like this. 

Should he apologize? 

Did he even have something to apologize for? 

She was the one who defiled his pride. 

She was the one who poisoned his mind with whatever sickness she’d put him through. 

Sure he’d yelled at her, insulted her, but -  His ears perk up at the sound of her voice, far softer than he could have anticipated.

Far softer than he liked.

“Did… did you do this to me?” 

Aedes’ eyes widen, his rising frustrations deflating in an instant. She thinks I've done this? 

Stunned, Aedes slowly shakes his head. 

“No. I…” His voice trails off. Even with her mostly covered by the blanket, Aedes can barely look at her. The sight of her shaking filled him with guilt, seemingly for his very existence. Even as he averts his gaze, he doesn’t miss how her heart hammers in her chest. Aedes grits his teeth. 

He hates this. 

“Here.” His voice nearly cracks, words sticking awkwardly in his throat. Aedes stands, though his heart fills with lead upon hearing June’s gasp. 

God, he hates this so much.  

June Murphy, however bizarre and terrifying the situation, could not say she hated it.  

Perhaps, five minutes from now, when the reality of the situation sunk in… maybe then she would hate it. Maybe then she’d be completely and utterly terrified. 

But at this moment in time her mind was completely and utterly occupied with the very large, very handsome, and very naked vampire man who’d turned to rummage around her room.

Why? She had no idea, and frankly- she wasn’t sure her mind had the capacity to care. 

She would panic later. 

Aedes turned back, seemingly a little more aware of his lack of modesty as he made an awkward attempt to cover himself as he reapproached. Again, he kneels down, his piercing gazing locking June in place for the briefest moment, before he turns his head away, not wanting to look at her like this. Slowly brings his hand to her. In it, his shirt, now embarrassingly small. It was uncanny to see his clothes like this… to imagine what he had looked like in them... What he had looked like to her.  

She doesn’t take it. 

It doesn’t take Aedes long to reason why.

My hands… His throat constricted at the realization of what his hands, blackened and clawed, must look like at her size. Why would she take anything from hands like mine? 

Before he can pull his hand back, June speaks.

“Thank you.” Her voice, far too soft for his liking, is all the warning he has before he’s met with the strangest sensation. A shiver runs down his spine as he feels her touch, warm and feather light, take the shirt from his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Aedes begins, still averting his gaze, his hand moving to hide his teeth as he spoke, “That's the only clothing I have to offer-”

His apology is interrupted by a sound Aedes had not anticipated. 

June laughed. 

“Oh no- You’ll have to forgive me, but I think I have even less I can offer in the clothing department.”

Aedes remained frozen in place- stunned. She was laughing?

How could she be laughing?

His ears twitch, faint sounds of fabric being shifted and slid against soft skin pricking at his senses. Slowly, he turns back, a look of confusion on his face. He wants to ask her why she’s not panicking- Why hasn't she hid from him? He wants to ask her a whole myriad of questions, but at the sight of her sitting there in his shirt, the only sound that manages to escape him is a sharp inhale. 

It was a peculiar sight, seeing his clothes too large for her frame. His shirt hung loosely on her, hanging off her figure in a way that somehow seemed more lewd than her bare form. Ears hot, Aedes swallowed- quickly excusing himself to route through her wardrobe. 

----

“You really don’t know what's happening?”

In lieu of speaking, Aedes, clad in June’s loosest pair of baby blue shorts and what was supposed to be an oversized t-shirt, shook his head. He’d heard smallfolk talk of legends, of human blood giving his kind power but those were… vague superstitions? Or at least, he’d always assumed so- just some overly mystified explanation of his nature. 

Sitting on the floor beside June’s bed, Aedes frowned. He’d been drinking blood all his life and nothing more abnormal than a full stomach and some blood drunk thoughts had ever occurred. 

Just what exactly was going on?

Here he sat a hundred times the height he’d been the night before, and there she sat- magnitudes smaller.

His frown only deepened.

Had he…? He couldn’t have…

Aedes rests his head on the bed, trying desperately to grasp at a situation that, even now, seemed far too big for him to handle. He eyed June, her once imposing frame now dwarfed by her surroundings, the pillow she leaned against threatening to swallow her whole. 

Serves her right. He thought bitterly, his eyes lingering on her hands. Though he couldn’t ignore the itch that persisted at the back of his mind, an itch that gnawed at whatever mental fortitude he’d summoned to banish it from his conscious thought.

You’re lying. 

Aedes sighed, as if he could somehow expel the invasive thought from his mind. He didn’t miss the way his breath ruffled her hair- nor did he like it. 

She has no knowledge of the way my world works… She’ll trust humans-

Worse yet- she trusted him- at least enough to stay put. Once again, Aedes’ scowl deepens. 

How would she live like this?

How would he? 

His size was what allowed him to feed unnoticed. Like taking a sip from a lake- a way for him to hunt without killing. As meager as his stature had been, he’d had his stealth, his ease of access… he'd had plenty- his feedings a relative bounty every time.

Aedes chest tightens, a groan threatening to push past his lips. He runs his hands through his hair, trying and failing to ignore the growing sense of unease. 

How would he feed like this?

Brow furrowed, his ears flicked in agitation.  This was bad. 

This was dangerous. 

He was dangerous. 

Was this his life now? Aedes bites his lip, only to quickly cover his mouth a moment later, lest she see his teeth as she was. So close to being human, to having some shred of humanity- no longer something that could be seen as a pest, yet now someone that could be seen as something far worse. He tries in vain to swallow the growing panic rising in his chest.

He wouldn’t be seen as something worse, because he would be worse. He- 

As he stared daggers into the comforter, Aedes caught movement from the corner of his eye. 

June stood. 

Aedes froze. 

She walked towards him. 

He didn’t even breathe. 

As June moved closer and closer still, Aedes remained motionless, a deer caught in the headlights of a, very small, oncoming car. As she draws mere inches from his face, Aedes moves to pull back, but instead is stopped, the soft hum of her voice anchoring him in place like a leash around his neck. 

“Stay still.”

So he did. 

Ears folded back, he stayed, unmoving, as she brought herself so close to his face his eyes wouldn’t focus. So close he breathed her in on every inhale- sweet cream and carnal spice. So close if he so chose to, he could taste such a luxury. 

“You’re not… afraid of me?” His voice is low- hesitant even. 

Her touch makes him flinch. Gentle, as if he were still mere inches tall, June brushes back the stray hairs his frustrated mussing had garnered. She hums thoughtfully, and he finds himself wishing that sound would once again rattle his bones. 

“Should I be?” Her voice didn’t carry a hint of doubt. Though concerned, her voice felt …warm. 

Aedes hesitates for a moment.

“... yes.”

He wanted to lie- like she did. To tell her she would be safe with him. That he wouldn't hurt her. Yet he couldn’t bear to entertain this sad little fantasy where he pretended not to hear the way her heart raced, or see the way her hands shook- and selfishly, he couldn’t bear waiting for her foolish bravado to run out, lest he start believing he was anything but what nature had made him to be. He knew what he was- A monster.

It was time she learned that too. 

If this illusion had to be broken, it would be on his terms. 

June swallowed, biting her lip as his head, like a monument come to life, rose from where he rested it on the bed and closed the nearly nonexistent distance between them. He tilted his head just so, the way one does when leaning in to steal a kiss. Her knees felt weak, as did her resolve. As he moves closer, his nose brushes past her side, slowly, until it was his lips brushed up her frame. The wash of his breath as his lips part sends a shiver down her spine, a shiver that only grows as very large, very inhumane, teeth were revealed.  

“Don’t be foolish.” He whispered, voice silky and stern, lips brushing intimately against her body as he spoke, “Do you not think I’m tempted?” 

There's a pause, his question hanging heavy in the air before his lips pull back into a sneer, teeth bared as he adds, “I could have you in a single bite.”

June inhales, breath shakey as her thoughts run wild. Before she can even contemplate a response, she's already speaking, the words seeming to fall from her lips as easily as breathing. 

“So bite me then.”

[raayllum]

Time to be wonderfully self indulgent and talk about a scene comparison I've wanted to for a hot second (while pointing very decidedly to This Post for posterity's sake).

So let's talk about the hostage exchanges for Callum and Rayla in 4x09 and 5x08, shall we?

First, let's look at the scene setup.

In 4x09, Rayla is very much the aggressor and pursuant, and the one who — initially — has more power. She has her sword up to Terry's throat, neither him nor Claudia have strong reason to think she wouldn't go through with it, and she explicitly threatens Terry's life precisely because of his importance to Claudia. This is similar as to why Finnegrin threatens Rayla (though there are differences, which we'll get to in a moment), so both elves start out as the aggressor in each scenario.

However, there is soon a shift. Callum's "deal" happens because he escalated violence against Finnegrin (the infamous punch), a tad more similarly perhaps to how Rayla is only threatening Terry because she believes Claudia and co. are a threat to the whole world. Now to be fair, Claudia is only threatening Rayla's parents because Rayla is threatening Terry, but we can assume she had the realization of their connection to Rayla a while ago and has been sitting on it just in case she needed leverage, given that she doesn't seem to need a second to consider. I also think we're inclined, typically within the show, to see the person offering up Options / a choice to make as the one who holds more power in the immediate situation (i.e. Karim's whole sun seed for Janai debacle) even if it may be 60-40 the way it is here.

Not a huge power imbalance, but enough that people are being pushed into corners, and that's exactly where Claudia and Finnegrin attempt to do, and arguably do more successfully, to Callum and Rayla respectively.

We've talked a fair bit about Claudia, so now I want to talk about Finnegrin, simply because he gets a whole episode of corner backing, and therefore there's more stages.

The first stage is Finnegrin attacking Callum as an individual — "Look at you: slave to your friends, your loyalties, your pride. I can give you your freedom though" — and it's the least effective, as Callum never budges or shows any real hints of budging even under torture. However, Callum's admission that he has indeed done dark magic before ("I did one spell. One. I had to, to save my friends") gives Finnegrin the tools he needs to create the next prong of his approach.

Stage two is attacking Callum through his friends, and is far more effective. This is why he sets the hand cutting challenge, and Callum buys into it, i.e. the idea that he has to choose, over the idea that Callum could conceivably offer up his own hand instead. This is not to say that he wouldn't — there's little doubt in my mind that Callum wouldn't have seriously considered if not outright done the chain spell up on deck if Rayla hadn't tried to intervene, since as Finnegrin correctly assesses, "They would do anything for you, so clearly you'll do anything for them" — just that his own hand didn't occur to Callum as an option the way it might've to someone like Rayla.

The third stage, of course, is the one that's most interesting to us, simply in how Callum's "hostage deal" differs from Rayla's in both its construction, their assumptions, and their responses.

Claudia: One thing I don't know though — if I threw the coins in the lava, would it release your spirits? Or would they be trapped in some kind of eternal burning agony? Let's trade. You let him go... and I'll give you the coins.

Finnegrin: The cave is for his protection. This way, he lures us a leviathan but doesn't get eaten. The one getting thrown into the sea serpent's hungry mouth is your elf girl.

Claudia's offered deal is different from Finnegrin's in a few ways.

1) Claudia's deal is explicitly stated in not just the text, but the scene itself ("Let's trade") meanwhile Finnegrin, unlike the two stages prior, does not offer Callum any notion of freedom this time around. Even though neither ends up being a fair deal regardless, the setup of said deal is different. Rayla is being legitimately offered; Callum is making a (desperate but understandable) assumption.

2) Exemplified in a drabble I wrote in which Finnegrin was bluffing, I think it's worth noting that the peril Rayla's parents were in was much more apparent. They were completely defenseless, Claudia was already holding them over the lava, and just one quick throw would be enough to potentially leave them in an "eternal burning agony" (which sounds worse than death by sea leviathan to me; at least that decidedly ends at one point). Rayla could see and hear all this. Callum, by contrast, did not see Rayla tied up, or in distress, and Finnegrin had no proof other than his word. That's not to say Callum was wrong to believe him — he'd just watched Finnegrin torture her, and Finnegrin was very much not bluffing in canon — but that normally Callum is a bit more skeptical and wants a bit more proof in regards to things, and this was a time where emotion really pushed him forward. The immediate consequences of however Rayla responded would be seen with her own eyes, where it's unlikely Callum would've even known precisely when Rayla had died/been eaten with any of his senses or knowledge; it's arguably the one 'mercy' that Finnegrin provided him.

3) And as stated, both Claudia and Finnegrin end up being disingenuous. It seems likely that Claudia always intended to trick Rayla, even if she'd let Terry go, given that while we don't see her slight of hand in general on screen, it doesn't seem like it would've been possible for her to take the coins back out again and switch them before tossing the pouch. That seems like a one and done type of thing earlier on. Finnegrin, of course, takes Callum to task for his assumption ("Oh my poor lad; that deal was no longer on the table") and given his choice to feed Rayla to the sea leviathan anyway, I don't think Finnegrin was ever telling Callum about his plans in order to get him to give up the info. I think it was just supposed to be a punishment, plain and simple, for the literal blow to his pride.

But now for the difference I think everyone clicked on this meta for, realistically, are the choices that Callum and Rayla made in response to the offered Deals.

When Rayla's parents lives are on the line, she considers, but ultimately refuses.

She does not partake in the deal. Rather, she escalates her own refusal of it by pushing Terry to his knees, says so outright — "I'm not making a deal with you!" — and looks up at Claudia, watching and waiting to see how she responds. Claudia as wholly tossed the coin pouch, and Rayla is seeing it arc down towards the lava, before she finally releases Terry to go and try to save her family.

Rayla does not fold the second her parents are verbally threatened, or when there is a possibility of getting them back. Despite her wanting to stop Claudia and Viren, the bigger issue is ultimately letting Claudia escape > actually keeping Terry away from her as an ally/helper. It is only when her parents will burn to death in front of her eyes that she relinquishes her stalemate in an attempt to save them.

You can argue that Rayla going back on her refusal means she made the same choice as Callum in 5x08, and that's fine; it's your prerogative, it's your interpretation, it's cool beans.

However, that doesn't ignore the character beat that Rayla at least refuses upon the first possibility of a threat. Claudia directly threatens three of Rayla's loved ones, and Rayla doesn't budge and verbally/physically refuses to give Claudia what she wants.

And Callum does the same with Finnegrin under torture... until Finnegrin threatens Rayla. The second Callum realizes that Rayla is in danger, that she will or might be killed, Callum folds.

The parallel response here would've been Rayla letting go of Terry the second that Claudia said she might throw the coins into the lava, but Rayla doesn't. And Callum does, even though as he said earlier ("I'm not going to help you murder the Archdragon of the Ocean") this makes him complicit in murder.

And this is where Callum's assumption really bites him in the ass, because he assumes that Finnegrin is still operating under the terms of their previous deal ("Told me something I wanted and now she's free as a bird") even though Callum isn't asking for his freedom, but Rayla's. But Finnegrin's pride is wounded — this was always meant to be a straight up punishment, not enough form of coercion — the wick of his anger lit, so it makes no difference.

Rayla refuses Claudia's deal when thinking it existed, only to find out it didn't. Callum agrees to Finnegrin's deal only to find it out it no longer exists. He gave Finnegrin what the pirate wanted and it isn't even going to save the person he gave it up for.

Both failed exchanges — or in Rayla's case, a failed rescue — end in defeat and devastation: Rayla sobbing and letting out a scream of anguished frustration, and Callum laying on the floor in despair, totally sideways from how much he's pulling at his chains.

I don't think I have to say much else as these scenes and comparisons basically speak for themselves. Neither choice these two make is necessarily the right or wrong choice — for Rayla, her inability to put what she wants first could've resulted in her parents' deaths and has caused herself and others a lot of suffering; for Callum, he understandably wanted to protect a loved one at all cost, even if that left him exploitable and unsuccessful amid Finnegrin's ire, and gave the pirate a dangerous piece of information.

However, I do think that although Callum's choice spells an ominous future (and that Rayla's foreshadows the uncertainty of what she may do when Callum is, inevitably, possessed again, and their futures collide), it's worth examining it as his biggest, more positive difference from Viren, and that's what my next post will be about — so stay tuned if you like.

[plexiglasssheets]

Human. [Pine-ing pt2]

Can be read as stand alone but is a second part to This Cross posted on ao3

================================

"Bill, Could you be human?"

  Ford blustered out, his face growing hot at what he said. Him and Bill were having there usual discussions in his mind scape while his body rested somewhere in his house. Their conversation had veered to Bills existence as a demon. His ability to be physical but also here, whatever the astral projection ghost even were. But there was his question, somewhat self indulgent in a way. Obvious if he wanted to he could. This was Bill we're talking about. Bill chuckled, not in a cruel way, amused.

"Oh Fordsy I could, but not in a way you'd think"

He pondered for a moment, "Do you have a set form or do you get to choose how you look. I do apologize if this is too, personal? I just can't help my curiosities."

"Not at all sixer, its well- how bout I show you. Easier and you get a show."

His ghost floated away from the usual mental coffee table they sat at. His body folding out like paper origami to make a human shape. Rapidly becoming more life like. The yellow hue paling to a humanish tone. Sharp features, if Ford had to put a face to him. The eyes and nose were reminiscent of that of Nikola Tesla. Though picking up on facial features were tough. It was like his face were blurred despite being so close. Wiping his glasses to make sure a finger print wasn't block view. But the blur follow Bill's face as he moved.

"Pretty nice model don't ya think Fordsy?"

He leaned on his shoulder about an inch or so taller. His voice too had a less echoy and ethereal sound. Much more human. It had a slight twang to it almost. His mind was stuttering a response.

"Oh don't get all flustered, I know I look great and all. But this is what we're working toward. That portal is the only thing keeping this from becoming real boney flesh!"

"Boney flesh?" He half laughed, out of all the words he'd describe skin, boney would not be his top pick.

"Been a while since I've been in a body, you can't blame me!" He put his hands up in mock defense, sauntering to sit across Ford again.

"You've had a body before?" He asked rather intrigued.

"Operated might be a better word. A deal or two of knowledge in exchange for a vessel goes a long way. Speaking of," He threw his astral tea cup to the side it disappearing. He leaned on the table.

"I've been thinking, you been working hard, you understand the plan. How would a deal, partnership even, to help this portal go faster? You work and I help you in you head here and there, and then while your mortal self takes a rest I man the ship and write some calculations. And so on."

Ford thought for a second, why would he ever turn down such an offer.

"Bill I see that as an excellent idea, just think of how much more we could get done!" The prospect of not only being able to help him faster but that he thought ford was worthy enough to do *This* was boggling.

"Sounds like a deal," he out reached a hand sealing it.

He burst awake, in his body abruptly. Usually his after his meetings he woke slowly. But he felt different, more fluid. Then he heard him.

"How bout a test run?" His voice was sitting next to him.

"Sounds great-" he felt his mouth go numb partially or rather the lack of feeling it. Similar to when his wisdom teeth were taken out. He could feel just faintly, and some parts felt overly sensitive.

"Are you? Are you also here?" He still *felt* like himself mentally, he prayed he didn't do something to mess it up.

"Think of me as a co-pilot right now," his left arm waved at himself. It was beyond describing having a sensation so familiar disappear. To see your own body move without it being you.

"Incredible," he murmured reaching out to his own hand. Bill slapped his hand away and shook his finger.

"Nuh uh," he scolded "you take a rest and I'll show you how much I can get done in a body."

Ford took the figurative step back and felt his body become detached. His mind slipped into a deep sleep. His body working hard as his muse wrote calculations he could only dream of making in that time.

[beebopboom]

The Angel behind the Curtain

The Metatron. A character we don’t know a lot about in the show but has become public enemy number 1 - funny isn’t it.

I’ve been putting off doing this for a while because I wanted to dedicate proper time and research into this character - who he is, what he is doing, and how he is being used. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past week or so and boy is it long. So consider this an introduction post to a series - the main parts are still under construction and review.

But here is a shorter part that didn’t really fit anywhere cleanly and was kinda just a side tangent my brain went on - so now it’s its own part. I know some of it has been discussed before but have some new additions with a sneak peak into what is to come

and for that we are going back into the Title sequence - yes I know I talk about it way too much.

So Mr. Floating Head

Obviously this has been linked to the floating head of The Wizard of Oz before

But I want to dive in a little further now that we have more instances of this in season two

Now I’ll admit it’s been a while since I have revisited the story so there might be more parallels I missed but for now I just want to focus on the wizard - with some light parallels

We get the Metatron as a floating head up in heaven during the trial -which would have been before/during episode one - where he task the archangels with finding Gabriel - and he almost seems amused about it.

When Dorothy and the others first meet the Great Oz he will only grant their wishes upon the defeat of The Wicked Witch of the West. Once they return back after succeeding they demand the Great Oz to fulfill his promises but Toto knocks down the curtain to reveal that the Great Oz is just some man. He then uses “humbug” to grant their wishes - kinda. Dorothy though is meant to join him on a hot air balloon so they can both go home - which she misses because she was chasing Toto. But enough of that

After Gabriel is found - then fucks off - the Metatron arrives in the bookshop with most not recognizing him until he prompts Crowley to “reveal” him. He then sends the archangels away with a “wait and see” about if they had done anything wrong - kinda granting their wish with them not getting in trouble. He then goes on to offer the Supreme Archangel position to Aziraphale and says to join him in going up to Heaven.

The Metatron is admittedly a better wizard than Oz - he for the most part removes his own curtain and makes sure Aziraphale is coming with him.

But you said we were going into the title sequence and you have just rambled about some old story parallels? Okok I’m going

I've talked before (here) about how those rickety walkways represent Heaven's plans/timeline for their version of Armageddon- but for this we are going to focus on the one in the theatre

Curtains are drawn - screen is burned - the way to the Second Coming revealed

I'm comparing this moment to the Metatron finally appearing in a corporation in front of the angels and revealing his name - the curtain pulled back.

At the last second the film is burned - right before they enter the lift the Metatron finally drops the act a little and reveals the name, The Second Coming.

And now on to the sneak peak for one of the things I will be doing a deep dive into - The Book of Enoch

I know Neil has said the Metatron has always been an angel but can’t throw the whole book away when he himself pulls from it

When we go through the burnt screen we see these mountains of junk and it is revealed they are walking up one that has a throne room on top.

In Enoch 1 he is given an angel guided tour of the cosmos and sees seven glorious mountains - three to the east, three to the south, one that was taller than the rest and like the seat of a throne with trees encircling it, one of which is identified as the Tree of Life - which is said to be given back to humans after judgement

I’m sensing some parallels but for now that is it - tune in later for some more Enoch and diving into the occult

Part 2 is up!!

[petermorwood]

This popped up on my YouTube the other day and not to brag, but...

Oh, why the hell not? It's a small brag, but satisfying. :->

I posted about refilling the Pilot Vpen (IRL-UK) / Varsity (US) - and adding how-to links - about 4 years and then again a year ago.

Here are the how-to links; I'm glad to see they're still active.

This one, like the video, calls for pliers and suggests removing the nib:

This one doesn't use pliers or separate the nib from the feed.

*****

Bragging aside, I'm pleased to see Brian Goulet of Goulet Pens giving this hack a higher profile (and Kudos for it, too - as a retailer it's more in his interest to sell them than refill them!)

His reason is very sound: those cheap little pens (usually about 3-to-4 local currency units whether €, $ or £) are ideal for FP-curious newbies or as no-loss-worries when travelling or no-damage-worries loaners.

They also have much better nibs than the price would suggest. Indeed that seems common to all the inexpensive Pilot pens I've tried, which includes every nib size of MR / Metropolitan.

In addition, IMO the notion of "disposable" fountain pens goes completely against the principal FP virtue, where once you've bought the pen, all you USE is the ink.

So in the US at least * buy that ink from Goulet. They've got one or two to choose from and a selection of samples in vials or sets...

( * In Ireland, with Pen Corner in Dublin now gone, I get mine from CultPens or Penstore.)

*****

I should mention, for completeness, that some "starter" fountain pens have prices not much more than these disposables and, refilled by "proper" ink cartridges / bottle-refill converters, don't involve anything like this trouble.

Just saying...

*****

It just so happens that one of my two Vpens was about due for a refill, so here are some pics of the process.

I scrubbed the markings off the barrels a long time ago so I could see what was inside, since refills mean the ink in the pen often has nothing to do with its colour-indicator cap.

First, disassembled and washed in changes of warm water until the water stays clear.

Here's the nib and feed: they've always come out of both Vpens as a single unit, with no need for pliers. Since the nibs show no desire to come off I've no desire to force the issue and maybe break something; those little ink-guide fins are delicate.

The filler is a small syringe begged from our local vet. I also use it to refill cartridges with custom ink colours (yup, I sometimes roll my own...)

Its "needle" is plastic tubing (an empty Pilot gel-pen cartridge, appropriately enough) which fits the syringe perfectly, and a pointy end made by stretching the tube over a candle-flame then snipping to length. If it gets too stained - this is nearly there - just chuck it in the recycle bin and make a new one.

The ink could have been any of the 30-odd I have at the minute, or something mixed specially, but I chose this one - a nice dark green - for the same reason @dduane had me buy it.

It's a very cute bottle... :->

*****

And here's the "disposable" pen refilled, reassembled and re-writing.

It really does have a better nib than you'd expect from a supposedly single-use pen...

*****

It sometimes takes a while for the ink to work its way by capillary action down from barrel to nib, especially if everything has been left to dry after washing. Put the cap on the pen and be patient.

Or speed things up by taking the cap off and running a thin stream of hot water over the barrel for 30 seconds or so. This increases internal pressure, forcing the ink along the section fins.

NB, this step is only for a refilled Vpen / Varsity. Don't try it with anything else, and in case it's not obvious, do this at a washbasin or sink, because You Never Know.

Now use a bit of kitchen paper or loo roll to blot the water which has got on the nib. This has a mild "suction" effect, and when you see ink on the paper (you might need to wet the nib again) your refilled pen is ready for use.

This wet-and-blot nib step can be used to encourage any stubborn fountain pen to get back in action, but the hot water trick, once again, is Vpen only.

Anyway, done.

[fitgirlfemdom]

After reading the other guy's post that you published and your own about small dick humiliation, I wanted to tell my own story, and I hope you'll like it. Part of it is similar to the other guy. In my early 30s, I was a gym rat, and while I wasn't bulking up, I was lean at 160-165 lbs, and I was just shy of 5 inches. I started dating a girl and then a storm hit that knocked out power for close to two weeks, and between those two things, my gym days were over. Once my routine got throw out of wack, I never recovered. I'm in my early 40s now and weigh around 210-215 lbs (I've been in that range for a few years now), and I've lost nearly an inch of length. I'm barely over 4 inches now. Between the weight gain and the loss of length, sex sucks. It's a huge part of why I turned to gooning.

As far as my size, I've always known that I'm on the smaller side, but it didn't become a kink for me until OCT or NOV of last year. I actually used to post cum tributes for years, and never once got a negative comment on my size. Anyway, I was chatting with this girl on Discord and one of the things we bonded over was exhibitionism/public nudity. It's something I've never been into doing myself, but seeing girls engage in it is super hot, and she would tell me about some stuff that she's done, or we'd watch stuff together. One day, we're chatting, and I mention that I'm in my backyard. She asks for proof, so I send her a pic of my yard, and she tells me to strip. I was immediately turned on and there's a small area of my yard where I could get away with it without having to worry about any neighbors seeing me, so I recorded me stripping. My heart was beating like a jackhammer and I sent the video. Her first comment is, "damn, you have a small cock." I was absolutely crushed, and it broke something inside me. I wasn't expecting her to tell me it was the hottest thing she had ever seen, but I guess I was expecting a little bit of validation. "Nice job," or "I can't believe you actually did it," something like that.

Since then, small penis/dick/cock humiliation has become a major kink for me. I've had dozens of girls online degrade me after I send them a pic or video. I've gotten everything from laughter to mean comments to poor ratings. I have a few regulars that I chat with that are absolutely brutal towards me, and I love it. I reblog captions and use the #small dick humiliation hashtag on my blog. You mentioned in your post about a guy that jerks off with only two fingers, and I do that now. A couple of different girls have encouraged me to do it, and it feels so humiliating and looks so pathetic when I send them videos. At this point, two of my biggest fantasies are to experience SPH in a group chat, and IRL.

You had said that you wished more of your inbox messages were like that other guy, so I hope this fits that.

YES!!! MORE SMALL DICK INBOXES!!!

yes, for some reason, some of us girls find guys jerking off with only two fingers really hot in a pathetic way. it's mainly because it's how we play with our clits, and seeing a guy do it is like watching him wear heels and put on makeup--its so emasculating. i love it.

right now, all i need is a small dick <4in gooner on his knees jerking his little cock while trying his best not to "nnnghhh" and cum in 30 seconds in front of me. i need a pathetic gooner like that begging me to let him cum and calling me mommy while he does it. also i need a zero sugar smirnoff ice. preferably pink lemonade flavor. and maybe a cigarette.

imagine sending your pathetic dick pic to a girl and she adds you to a gc with all her friends, just so they can clown on you for being a degenerate pervert. imagine them sending audio messages, laughing and making jokes at your expense, asking with slight curiosity if you can even fuck anything with that. them asking if companies make condoms in that size, and if you're even fertile. imagine them thinking that's not enough, and forcing you to meet up with them IRL, lest they leak your unsavory pictures online. you get locked in chastity and forced to pleasure these girls for the rest of the night, whether that be through your mouth or your hands, while they spit and laugh at your pitiful dick.

that gives me an idea for a new post. AGHHH thank you for this

[aerequets]

Hello again!

I was wondering if you had any spy x family fic recs that are twiyor centric? AUs? I’m having trouble finding ones that are what I’m looking for. Ratings don’t matter. Anything from G to E would be appreciated! Thank you!!

boy oh BOY do i have twiyor fic recs !!!! it's like basically all i read LMAO and i am always on a hunt for more. i feel like i have read through a good chunk of what's on ao3 and i still feel starved. there's always my bookmarks you can sift through for twiyor fics, but for some more curated recommendations (and this is not gonna include all the ones i've lost my mind over, that's far too many, this is just what i can remember off the top of my head):

the living blues by @nire-the-mithridatist

GOD it would be such an understatement to say i am a huge fan of not only this work but EVERY WORK by this author because SHE HAS A WAY WITH WORDS OKAY. i avoid angst like the plague but i saw the happy ending tag to this fic and IT DIDN'T DISAPPOINT (chapter 6 is gonna be an epilogue)!!!!!!! AUGHHH this isnt even a good review im just yelling but yeah this is really good and also pretty much everything else by this author, i'll say it now so this list doesn't have numerous fics by the same person just do yourself a favor and read through what she's got if you haven't already

rated T, 5/6 chapters, currently 14k words

(edit: completed!)

With Kid Gloves by crownofrosegold on ao3

4 words: Mr Darcy Hand Flex

rated G, 1/2 chapters, currently 2.5k words

(edit: completed!)

the most yearning, pining, longing fic ever with the least physical touch ever. loid traces yor's gloves in his pocket with his thumb and its somehow intimate. yeah

it's been a hot minute since it's updated but the first chap can kinda be read as a standalone (to me) which is why i rec, even though i personally only go after finished fics for my own sanity :^) also its just too darn cute how can i not

How to Be a Supportive Husband by @nemaliwrites

rated T, 1/1 chapters, 910 words

short and sweet drabble of the most simpiest loid post reveal. what more could you want

MISSION: Bottom Feeder by SilverSupa on ao3

rated T, 2/4 chapters, currently 9.5k words

this one is just too good and funny LMAOO yor and loid are Peak Stupid and also Peak Attracted To Each Other so it's just. mm good mix. this one's also been a hot second since it's last update but i love it too much so its on this list

even when we're not together (will you stay with me?) by JaMills on ao3

rated T, 1/1 chapters, 4.5k words

gosh this is another one of those super good reads that make you sit and think after you're done. soulmate AU where they swap bodies as children until they meet. personally i'm not the most dedicated reader of aus where yor and loid meet as kids, but the way its handled here is just so good and adds to the story. it's also part of a series and the next installment is equally as good. this is another one of those authors that has a lot of quality stuff (although there's a good dash of angst which i keep my distance from JKFHISDH) so look through their page!

Enough by Frotu on ao3

rated T, 1/1 chapters, 4k words

EHEHE THIS ONE HAS ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET FR it is soooo cute. typical thing of yors coworkers getting into her head, she asks loid if what they have is enough, and... well.... you can read what happens from there ;] (spoiler: it's very cute)

a dream in charmeuse by selfetish (@selfetishizing ) on ao3

rated T, 2/2 chapters, 12k words

oh gosh, the prose in this is just?? so insanely good??? its such a pretty read. this is twiyor, yes, but it's also a deep dive into femininity and yor's understanding/rediscovery of it. i remember the first time i read it the opening scene of the first chapter was just so GOOD to me, i was like OMG i am not gonna forget this this is so iconic AND IT IS!!!!! i love me a good yor centric fic. we usually get more of twilight contemplation (i mean he has got the whole mission thing going on and hes our resident overthinker so, understandable) but this was such a nice look into yor's..,, like, fundamental building blocks?? if that makes sense?? its just good ok read it

"The Five Times Loid Forger Went Topless In Front of His Wife and the One Time She Reciprocated" Or “Bare-Chested in Berlint” by Talik_Sanis on ao3

rated M, 6/6 chapters, 17.5k words

that title should tell you all you need to know right LMAOOO it's just yor being incredibly horny, like embarrassingly so. she lacks a grip

again this is just 8 fics, where my bookmarks list are over 200 (yeesh) so feel free to look through those. i've also got some fics, most of which are twiyor lmao (brainrot i told you). and don't forget to show these awesome authors some love!

[keikakudom]

I wonder if Angel recognized vox? It must be a little awkward to be staying at a resort sponsored by your boss's former partner, to avoid your boss. Speaking of which, is the resort still free? (Weird attention point I know) bc it seems like lots of people would take advantage of its facilities without bothering w redemption if it were free, so how do they deal with it?

Omg, these are two things I've actually thought about. A LOT.

Okay, so for Angel's situation(I'm fine with explaining it briefly, because it might be /awhile/ until I get to posting about his design):

Yes, he recognizes Vox, but he's also in sort of a sweet deal right now, also thanks to Vox; Angel lives at the resort, but it's also his workplace. Charlie knew vaguely about Vox's association with the Vees, she's not blind to Hell politics in this AU. When Vox negotiated with Valentino to recruit Angel Dust to be an entertainer/stripper for the resort(since Angel's a celebrity and having a permanent show there for him would definitely bring in an audience), Charlie made sure that any contracted souls would have a place for refuge at the resort.

So in this AU, Angel isn't a pornstar anymore(cough hint hint: this also means that Valentino shifted away from porn. Crazy? I will go more into this later). I imagine this like an additional, temp clause to Angel's contract; as long as he brings in an audience/revenue and keeps up numbers at the resort, he gets to keep a better QoL. Is he grateful to Vox? No, cause Vox could've easily done this throughout the years he'd known Angel + made the margins of his newfangled freedom more than the bare minimum to appease Charlie and benefit Vox's interests. Charlie hasn't been around their circle nearly enough to figure that out, nor is very keen on all the details surrounding this; she only thinks that Vox barely managed to snag a deal from Valentino for Angel's new conditions.

And for your second question-- yep, the resort is still "free!"

Anyone can check in and partake in their general services(redemption, blah blah blah). That doesn't mean it's not profitable. Just like public malls, or other types of casual resorts and casinos, they make revenue from the very environment. Advertisements, upgraded amenities, exclusive entertainment and shows-- the very fact that the CEO of Voxtek, PLUS the Royal Family of Hell are sponsoring this resort? Oh, now it sounds like hot shit. Sinners might not even be /too/ interested in redemption, but it's a spectacle of entertainment that's so unique to the rest of Hell. The visit is sweetened by the idea that Sinners have a place to be "safe" from their contracts. Obviously, this isn't exactly true but it's the brand, the image, that Vox has designed for the resort to project. A certain Radio Demon has a lot to say about that.

And you're right! Does this mean that they'll stay there forever, if they lack any redemption efforts to leave? Whooo knows. Vox has his own ideas on "dead product". I have a comic script written about this, so I'll leave that there.

Thank you for the questions, it gave me a chance to spill the beans somehow!! I know there are a lot of unanswered questions here too, but hopefully it gave a bit more understanding to how the resort functions :"D

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Welcome to my blog where I talk about Ruggie Bucchi and clothes because I love clothes.

I think Ruggie is well versed in street fashion the older he gets. I will explain. I think... Money wise he doesn't prioritize brands. But he hangs out with Leona. I think... In my mind... Leona plays dress up with him because when they hang out... Ruggie looks homeless. So Leona feels irritated hanging around someone without swagsauce. I think Ruggie is fashionable (a lot of the Twst cast is) but he just can't afford his dreams haha.

I like clothes a lot. When I write fanfiction, I plan out fashionable clothes for my x Readers. I love the idea of a character I like wearing clothes I like to see them in or fashion that suits them out of uniform. In a fic I wrote, I mentioned a character wearing True Religion jeans. Because it makes sense for him.

Here are clothes I want to see Ruggie wear/I might mention in writing/I want to draw him in:

The Goofy Shirt x Shorts

So, I'm black if you did not know. As in African American (I am biracial but both parents in my life are black) and that means I grew up with a lot of black men in my life dressing like this. Me and my friend joined forces and agree Ruggie Bucchi is Afro Latino. He is pale because he is at school on an Island, he doesn't get cooked in the sun so he lacks melanin.

But he dresses like this. I like him wearing shorts because I like that Ruggie has long legs despite being a somewhat short guy. Shorts like this make him look taller (the illusion of baggy clothes also making you look thin) and I actually do like him in boots a lot. Firstly, when I write Ruggie, I write him as someone who's second home was the streets. Boots, especially steel toed work boots are heavy. I actually own a pair and I will explain. There is a bit of heel on work boots. So you get an extra inch of height. But they're heavy because of the steel put in them to protect your feet. In my mind, Ruggie get's into fights sometimes. Have you ever been kicked by someone in a steel toed boot? The bruise is giant and you could get something broken. In his dorm card he also wears boots so I think if she needs to, he can do what needs to be done.

It suits him to wear boots when he looks like he's on a lil' mission. (I will talk about other shoes on him later.) The goofy shirts is something I think he would like. Shirts with bizarre imagery on the front is something you usually would get secondhand and he is a thrifting guy. He goes to places like that for fire fits. They house personality so when I draw or write Ruggie I usually picture him with a weird shirt on.

It makes sense to me. And I hope you see my visions.

For brands I write/draw for him specifically? I will say usually it's older street fashion that is considered 'outdated but still trendy'. I will build him an outfit of what I think he would wear at some point.

Ed Hardy x (Thrifted) True Religion

I think this would be something he wears. At least since its so hot. It is my personal opinion so you don't have to agree with my post. Something like this while going out with a friend. I think he likes odd clothing like the shorts and they have the thrifted vibe. Especially since Ed Hardy is a form of 'street/punk' fashion. Motorcycles and all of your favorite plugs wore Ed Hardy. I think Ruggie's holy grail would be thrifting True Religion (anything) or anything luxury. He doesn't buy stuff like that for full price ever but he laughs knowing the rich toss this stuff out so easily. This can be paired with any basic steel toed boots and classic white socks. Accessories... I think Ruggie would like bracelets. Oh, I usually give Ruggie a think gold chain. Why? ... Growing up, my younger brother and my dad were obsessed with gold chains. It was a thing that made sense. Seeing a black boy smile over his first gold chain. It was a sign of... Adulthood almost. You get your first job and at the age of 15 - 17 every boy I've met has either saved to buy a car or a gold chain. It is a personal thing to me and I think Ruggie bought himself a chain. (This is also because Ruggie wears a traditional necklace from the Afterglow Savana made of wooden beads and stones I think) I think that he can't drive... So a car is pointless especially at NRC, so I think he bought himself a chain with his first check. He was told buy his granny to be selfish for once. To use what he earned for something he wanted. "Make one dumb purchase and then be responsible. Just once' so I think Ruggie 'grew up' buying a gold chain from a pawn shop.

It's culture if that makes sense. I think it's dope.

I will come back to this later, and I will add a second post of another style I think he would wear. I can do Summer, Fall, and Winter... Maybe... Thank you for listening to me ramble. I had fun.

[castlebyersafterdark]

i really love your realisticness about what we could actually get in s5 when it comes to byler spice. lover's lake is a perfect set up, and i agree that peak romance being needed. although the reason i've always been in the spicy camp is because, to me, the more we see, the less explicit/dirty/spicy/lewd it will be?

cutting to black like jancy is too... dismissive, almost. it implies that the couple has found peace and simply needs to do the deed, and that the sex quality didnt matter, only that they did it. but surely the conflict for mike and will IS the question of hiccups and doubts even during? Can we, should we, do this? i think that what we DO need to see IS the fumbling, IS the constant glances at each other to make sure it's ok, IS the hand grabbing another hand and tentatively guiding it down to the crotch, probably over clothes, etc! i want to see their relationship literally transform before my eyes. and i think we need to see that hesitation and fear mixed with excitement in their eyes even during the act, that inexplicable oxymoron that is first desire and losing your virginity.

the first shadow REALLY plays up the idea of desire and intense emotion making electricity and lights go haywire, and it was sometimes done tongue in cheek as an obvious sex joke (the whole theatre laughed). its sooooo duffers to use this for will and mike. what better metaphor than the whole hawkins power grid sparking out because mike made will come so hard he literally BLACKED OUT?? and it doesnt need to be kinky or lewd! it could be over for will in 10 seconds as soon as mike touches him, but that doesnt make it less intense or hot - but the important thing is that will came because of the emotional intensity of them having sex, not just the physical sensation. i think this is the difference between gratuitous and meaningful movie sex.

and then the actual climax (lol) of that emotional arc will be their peace and contentment AFTER its done, so we also need to see the post-sex scene. you mentioned shy smiles and doing up a belt, but i think they deserve a whole night together. i would love love love to see them waking up together, maybe even accidentally thwarting a mission somewhat because they left their walkie talkies in another room? idk. something that ties it into the plot well.

a quick fumble can be sexy but i don't think byler need that - it keeps them too in the friends category, and the audience needs to know for sure that their relationship has transformed into something else and can never go back. THIS is a coming of age arc. their first time can't resemble a one night stand in any way. i also think will wouldn't be able to emotionally cope with sleeping with mike in a barn in the afternoon and then just going back about his day. i think he would need at least one business day and night to process it lol. will's sleep quality has also been a big theme of the show - imagine if he sleeps with mike and wakes up in his arms the next morning having slept soundly for the first time since he was 12???? literal perfection.

I AGREE WITH ALL OF THIS - I tried to be realistic in my assessment/predictions but I guess I'm just trying to set the bar low to either be happy with what we get or surprised if it exceeds expectations. But this ship deserves the world. They deserve care and peak romance and softness and it to be the moment. Truly, there is so much more going on in the show but I really do believe that byler is the heart of the show, a major turning point and overarching theme so I do hold out the hope that they get something really beautiful. What a waste, if not?

I compare to the 2 sex scenes we've gotten because that's the only frame of reference for that sort of romance we've really seen - but in actuality, yeah, it doesn't really make sense for a repeat or an homage. They'd get their own moment. Gosh, you've described some wonderful direction and context and potential imagery for the scene. I especially love "will's sleep quality has also been a big theme of the show - imagine if he sleeps with mike and wakes up in his arms the next morning having slept soundly for the first time since he was 12" LIKE??? Oh that's fantastic. Your brain. My heart ahhh. Wouldn't that just be the loveliest? How indicative of their relationship as a whole, and one of the classic pillars of romance - "find someone with whom you can rest." Ahh. That's what they are to each other, aren't they? Mike - running from himself, from society, from guilt, from his feelings, from danger. Will - plagued by nightmares, and hate, always looking over his shoulder for monsters and humans alike. Have them express their love not just emotionally, but physically, but then let them rest. With each other.

[bryce-bucher]

.50 Caliber 3D Platformer Post #1

Introduction:

Hey! I am working on a fourth project now. I hope to have this one done in the next couple of months, but we will see how that shakes out. Like many fellow indie devs, I was inspired by Siactro's scoping abilities on games like Toree3D and Kiwi64, and I wanted to make a small scope game of my own. I decided to pick up an idea I had a bit ago for a 3D platformer centered around a sniper rifle. I will be exclusively working on this game until its done or until I get burned out and need a break, in which case I will switch back to my regular work schedule on the other three projects for a bit. Do not worry about how this will effect the other projects, those ones are all p big scope, and I will be working on them until they are done or until I am dead no matter what.

Why the Fuck Would I Start a Fourth Project:

Credit Card Debt.

The Gist:

The plan for this game is that it is going to be a relatively small (about 4 levels or so) 3D platformer in which you take up contracts to kill various targets with you handy sniper rifle. The rifle will also mainly be used for traversal alongside your regular set of jumps and sideflips and all that good stuff. Aesthetically and thematically it is inspired by the likes of cruelty squad, the thing thing series, and madness combat, so I guess look forward to that if you are into y2k edgy flash era stuff and/or aggressive anti-capitalist satire. Also, .50 Cal snipers really just give me brain worms idk why. I like that it shoot big and have big reload. Mechanically, the game is mostly inspired by Mario 64 in that I want to have a varied moveset and open levels that allow the player to skip around the intended path in ways I could not even imagine. There is also going to be a little bit of hitman in there because you are eliminating targets rather than collecting stars, and those targets don't always have a straight forward method of elimination.

Conclusion:

It has been a hot second since I made a blog post. I've been p busy the last month or so, but I was working on midwest lost during the entirety of march. Next time I make a post about midwest lost I am gonna have a lot to say about it! It does make me a bit uneasy to be focusing on a single project away from the others, but I suppose that will hopefully motivate me to keep scope low and actually get this game out. Anyway, I hope u like 3D platformers because I'm gonna be posting about this one for a hot minute. Also, my friend Feverdream Johnny recently also got the Toree3D/Kiwi64 brainworms and has been working on his own 3D platformer called Obro's Odyssey. I have done a bit of playtesting for it, and it does the same evil things to my brain that neon white does, so check it out if you haven't. That is all 4 now, ty 4 reading and have a good day!

[genericpuff]

Hi! I love your comic Lore Rekindled, it's pretty entertaining! (definetely planning on reading Time Gate when I finally have some time lol). I'm currently very early in the process of making a comic myself, and while I have the main idea down, and the planning sorta done (I'm busy with uni, so I've been working on it bit by bit), I can't seem to figure out how to grow an audience. I was wondering how you did it and how long it took?

oh god oh no y'all are asking me how to grow an audience UH-

so like, here's the thing, I can try and give you pointers, but I also like... don't consider myself as someone with an audience ?? Like obviously there's an audience for Lore Rekindled but up until that point, Time Gate's been running for like 10+ years and I think it only has 5-10 regular readers nowadays, it peaked in its audience numbers years ago when it was still on Tapas before their platform went downhill and I bailed and since then the industry has only become more and more saturated making it even harder to get seen. Rekindled, on the other hand, has been super refreshing to work on because of how much people have flocked to it (which was surprising af but I couldn't be happier about it ngl it's been great ;o; <3) but that's really because Rekindled had the advantage of a pre-existing audience to tap into (specifically the communities of ULO/antiLO/etc. who were looking for something to rejuvenate their love for what once was in LO). So that made it a bit easier to build an audience, but that's something that goes for a lot of fandoms.

Original stuff is definitely a bit of a harder sell because you have to go out and find the people who might like your stuff and then convince them to give it a try. Building an audience in an original market is just not something I've ever been good at, I can't stand social media, I don't like "playing the algorithm", I just want to tell a story with my own characters and because of that, it often feels like I'm posting to the void with only a couple cheerleaders rooting me on. Which like, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the readers I DO have, but it can make creating comics feel like an uphill slog when you're not seeing any growth at all every time you update and try your best to advertise. Original projects are my own personal boulder if y'know what I'm saying (￣y▽,￣)╭

At the very least, working on Rekindled has definitely helped open up the doors for Time Gate a couple more inches, because a lot of stuff in Rekindled is also in Time Gate so when people enjoy Rekindled, I can point them towards Time Gate and go "Oh, you like Persephone's hot and cold characterization? You like Charon's aloofness? You like the banter between Hades and Persephone? Go read Time Gate." (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

That said, I think the best experience I've had with marketing Time Gate so far actually happened this year - when I went to the Island Entertainment Expo, a gaming and media convention (similar to Comic Con but on a waaaaay smaller scale lmao). There I was actually able to talk to people face to face and draw them in with physical proof of my work, it was less posting and hoping and more connecting with others and showing them my work and giving them an elevator pitch. And considering it was a convention full of like-minded people cosplaying as video game and anime characters, Time Gate fit right in because that's the niche it was written for. I'm due to go to another convention in June and possibly one in October (if I get in) and I'm hoping they're just as successful as IEX was because it was so refreshing to actually get to market my comic on a playing ground catered to my work; rather than one that would bury it after 30 seconds just for not posting at the right time of day or using the exact right combination of hashtags or not using reels.

Of course, doing tables and stuff is something that you're likely not going to jump right into especially when you're starting out. So considering you're just starting, focus less on growing an audience and more on just making your comic. It's a lot better of a sell to an audience when you have proof of your work existing and your biggest struggle in the beginning isn't going to be building an audience, but building good habits. A lot of webcomics don't even make it past a year of regular publication because of how difficult it is in practice to maintain a regular schedule. Often times the people who don't make it past that year either get bored, overwhelmed, or burnt out from the work it requires, especially when they're drawing the same characters over and over and over again - and even more so when they're doing it by themselves, with next to no audience, and no return investment. No exaggeration, drawing comics is hard, but like going to the gym, it gets easier as you get into your groove and learn what works and doesn't work for you as a creator.

Most of all, while I do hope that anyone going into webcomics can build themselves an audience they can be proud of having, please please please don't go into making webcomics purely for building an audience, because it's hard and not guaranteed. As I had said above, I still don't even consider myself as someone with an audience in the traditional sense because when it comes to Time Gate, it's still a VERY small thing, and with Rekindled, I consider the people who read it less of "my audience" and more just the community that I came into who engages with my work because it's made specifically for the community. So please, for the love of god, do it for yourself first and foremost, don't get trapped in the grind of chasing an audience when you're still just getting your work off the ground <3

I hope that helps a little, sorry I don't have a more direct "do xyz and that'll do the trick!" answer (and it turned into another essay post) but to be perfectly honest, that straightforward answer just sorta doesn't exist in this industry. Sometimes you get an audience from catering to a niche, sometimes you get one from going viral on IG, sometimes you get one from climbing the ladder within the industry, it all depends. But the good news is, there's no surefire 100% way that you have to be obligated to stick to. It's okay if you try some things and they don't work, just as it's okay if you don't feel like doing things the way everyone else is telling you to. Just have fun, learn lots, and be open to putting yourself out there and trying new things! \(￣︶￣*\))

[mdhwrites]

Choices is Back! What the fuck is Choices?

Does anyone remember about a month ago when I made A Galaxy of Choices Book One: The Living Planet free for a week? Well, that book was always intended to be the first of a bunch of books that are like it. Not just in the same series but in structure.

What do you mean by that?

What does that have to do with us?

The girl on that cover is hot.

There were others?

This isn't actually a list of ways this blog will go (though it will also cover three of those four) but how the structure was. See, this was my way of including chat while writing on stream. I would write a segment of the story, usually no longer than one thousand words (not by necessity, just by happenstance really) and then I would give a few options for everyone to choose from. They would leave comments on the document saying what they choose while I played a bit more of whatever game I was playing. All of those Hades 2 streams recently? That's been the game while I've also been working on this book.

I only get to see the result though when I finish playing the game. Then I look and I start writing within like... Five minutes. Tops. It's meant to be looser and little wilder than even my usual stuff but I've really liked how its come together so far.

So the point of this blog was essentially to let you know I've been doing this since I haven't made that very clear with my stream announcements. And for those going "Wait, did you stream writing smut on Twitch?" No. I actually moved to a website called Plexstorm for that... Which then promptly shut down. I now have one on Joystick.tv instead and whenever it gets too hot for Twitch, I'll move over there instead.

And of course: What types of stories are you doing right now? Well, I actually have two Choices books right now. The first is a sequel to A Galaxy of Choices so a somewhat pulpy, scifi romp with an old mercenary as its lead and pretty low on sex. The second is one I'm actually just beginning that's D&D themed where the dice are cursed and EVERYONE is getting corrupted. It's not going to actually be to the porn parts of it for a bit but once it does, it'll be hot, heavy and should be extremely silly.

If any of this sounds interesting to you, follow me over on Twitch.tv/MDHWrites and Joystick.tv/u/MDHWrites and/or just keep an eye out here for when I post when I'm going live. I'm hoping it keeps up for a while longer at least and that when this book is done, it doesn't take me another THREE. YEARS. to work on the next one. Thank you and see you next tale.