#EXCESSIVE answer but i'm emotional now

[remyfire]

Redo! Assign them all an eeveelution :pleading_face:

OUGH.

This is for aesthetics, and my personal interpretations of their personalities in my personal verses, and nothing else, do not come AT me fans—

—Hawk: He gets a sylveon because he is the least cis and most fairy (affectionate) out of everyone on this list to me— But he's also one of the most loyal people you'll ever meet, and if he's Picked You, you feel like the most special fucking person in the world. So the trans pokemon who has to already be gay before you make it your best friend ofc evolves from his eevee. —Trap: Jolteon, and not JUST because of his pretty robe, thank you. He's a driving energetic force among those around him, known to bring just as much light to the others as Hawk does. Normally his skies are pretty calm, but in the moments where he turns his full wrath on something, perceiving it is incredibly terrifying. —Beej: Flareon. California sunshine boy. Golden retriever. Bringer of a smile to every face around him as often as he can. If you touch him for too long, he's liable to leave you red, blistered, burned, needing to heal. But also you can't stay away from him for long, or the world feels like it's freezing you into ice. Also he turns people pink a lot because he's handsome— —Peg: Vaporeon. An even temperament, taken to laughing as gently as a babbling brook. She's stunning on the surface, but a lot of people are willing to take her at face value and not dip beneath and see how fucking much is buried inside of her. Able to move, to weave, to change with her surroundings rather than being rigidly solid. She wears down barriers and walls and invites people to come rest by her, to let their troubles be washed away. —Margaret: Glaceon. In a narrative way, I think she would actually get unsettled if it evolved this way, if it didn't require a tool to do so—she'd wonder if she was responsible for it, and she'd be correct. Rigid, chilly to the touch but aching to melt. Every agony in her life has chipped something off her, leaving her with sharp edges. But god, she gleams. She's gorgeous. She's thawing and changing shape, and this time she gets to decide what she'll become in the aftermath. —Charles: Umbreon. He reenforces so much distance from people, stays cool, keeps them at bay, tells himself over and over and over again that he'd rather be as far removed from their light as he possibly can. But god, do they bring out the best in him, that really lovely golden gleam. I think about some of the abuse and horrors he's lived with that have forcibly changed the color of his skies. I think again about the friendship requirement for umbreon, think about how the moment Charles decides someone is His, they're hard-pressed to get him away. They just have to earn it first. —Sidney: I'm being stereotypical and giving him an espeon, but the man went to med school and fucking EARNED IT. Incredibly elegant as well, so watchful, the kind of man who is happier sticking to the edges of a scene and observing rather than wanting to be in the thick of it. He knows what you need just by looking at you. —Father Mulcahy: He gets a leafeon because we see him working in a garden but also because he's able to coax so much fucking growth out of people. He's unconfident in believing that he can help prune away areas that cause people emotional pain, but he's so fantastic at it. —Radar: He gets an eevee because he's full of potential and he just needs to believe in himself and train up a little to see it!!!!!

[suguru-getos]

Fates - SatoSugu x F!Reader (Part I)

Summary: Y/N is Gojo Satoru's beloved wife, or maybe, not so beloved if we consider the rage festering in the form of abuse. Suguru however, has a connection to her too, and it's time he gets to his girl. Warnings: Satoru is a Yandere, he is psychotic, abusive, and bad. Mentions of slight depression, scared reader. Please let me know if I missed anything. A/N: Queen Goddess Ena cooked with this, I was so bored at work I just came up with this, this story will only have two parts I don't want to drag it much :33

Pupils glazed, it has almost become a signature look in the Satoru household. Her pupils look red, eyes puffy, and she's a mixture of mingled sniffles and broken cries. Satoru thinks, she cries a lot. What even is the need for it? It's not like he is harming her, he hasn't shown her half of what he is capable of. Yet, the way she cowers and flinches against him… makes his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"I brought your favourite." His voice echoed, a signal for her to stir awake instantly. Meek, hurried footsteps are heard a few seconds later as she drags herself to the dining area. Dressed eloquently, satin, lavender satin clothes and her beautiful cleavage on sight. It reminds Satoru that she is small, fragile, powerless. Sometimes when her actions become inexcusable, that reminder is needed. How else would someone like Gojo Satoru contain his strength otherwise?

"Wow, you look beautiful." His glossy lips parted, the compliment oozing out with a mixture of conflicted emotions. His eyes well hidden under the mask. "Thank you" She answered without thinking, it's only possible through months of practise after all.

"You're welcome, my Princess." Satoru croons, holding her bruised wrist and helping her sit. The hold is nice, kind and passionate. Unlike the time when it bruised, unlike the time when she wouldn't listen and deny eating. Some lessons are learnt the hard way, you can't help but feel guilty about it later on. For Satoru, it's one of those days where he is feeling upset over his actions. When that emotion trembles his psyche, his affections know no bounds. Why else is the dining table saturated with everything her silly, little heart could possibly desire. Yet, there is one thing missing. Her appetite.

She settles down the dining table, eyes glancing at the larger man who sat next to her, "All your favourites, now be a good girl and finish it up." He grins, it's okay, he can smile for the both of them on days when she can't. He can be positive for the both of them when she can't. What else are relationships for?

"You know I can't finish it up alone." She sounds scared, voice containing slight tones of malice. That doesn’t faze Satoru, he knows that it will happen. His Dearest, Sweetest little girl can be angry at him. She is allowed to be angry at him, he belongs to her anyway, just as much as she belongs to him. However, the fact that her eyes are filled with tears and her soft, smooth voice is breaking when she says it is what punches him in the gut.

"Well, you know, no punishments when you can't finish the food. Bonus points for trying!" Satoru tries to sound excessively excited again, a desperate attempt to mute the bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Okay" She hums, taking a bite of one of the pastries placed in front of her, humming in her approval. They seem tasty, yummy.

"I- uh," Satoru's voice is quick to distract her though, "I'm sorry for being a bad husband." Satoru answers, "It wouldn't happen again." There he goes, she has lost count to how many times Satoru has said these words. That he wouldn't do it again, that it wouldn't happen again. She doesn't believe him anymore, a bored nod is all he gets as a response.

Satoru's lips are pursed in guilt, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." He echoes again, that's true, he shouldn't have.

He shouldn't have sprained her wrist, he shouldn't have yanked her to the floor and yelled at her, he shouldn't have watched when her shoulder collides against the lamp and he shouldn't have watched her hiss in pain when she falls on the broken shards of glass. He shouldn't have done that because she didn't agree to have a baby. He shouldn't have…

"If it’s any consolation, I will not be botherin' you to ask you for a child again. Just thought you'd love me more with it." Satoru's voice drops into an ashamed murmur, admitting that all he wants at the end of the day is her love, it's freeing in a way. It's like confessing your sins at a church and just letting the almighty handle it.

It's just… her expression. She seems so out of it, so numb, broken… that he doesn't understand what to do, or say.

"Look, I'm running out of options here Sweetheart." Satoru's larger hand placed atop hers. The weak flinch not gone unnoticed, "How can I make it up to you?" He asked again, gnawing at his lip. "I'll do whatever you ask me to, I promise."

No he won't. If he would have actually done whatever she asked of him, they would have been divorced long, long ago. Satoru is good with words, his words almost seem healing, but that's all they are. Mere Fucking Words.

Before she could say anything, Satoru's phone vibrates. The only thing she is thankful for, is Satoru's impossible schedule. Being the strongest sorcerer ever has it's perks for her. She gets to rot in the Gojo estate alone. Much better than the company of her cruel, narcissistic husband.

Satoru gets up, taking the call and walking away to the hall-way. She can hear him trying to deny this mission, but reluctantly accepting it. A sigh escapes him when he comes back to the dining room, kneeling in front of her.

"Hey, Princess…" His hand reached to her cheek, caressing the cut that's still healing. "I have to go for a mission, you could even go outside if you like!" He smiled, giving her the bait to ensure at least momentarily happiness. What can she even do when she goes outside? Nothing. Satoru has his clutches deep within her family, her parents love him. He is sponsoring her brother's education, he takes control of everything. He has taken an active participation in her father's business. Nothing can be done now, the last time she mentioned divorce Satoru went livid. She doesn't think she can handle that ever again.

Another rehearsed nod happens, as she watches The Strongest leave her be.

Once his presence is gone, her heart bursts open to wails of agony, breathless sniffling and scream crying. What did she ever do to anyone! Why is she facing this! Her hopeless sobs echoed the premises, all she could hear was her own voice, broken, sobbing like a child. Until even that stopped, until silence enveloped her and exhaustion blanketed her into slumber.

The next morning, she is awake, realizing she passed out on the dining table. Her back hurts at the weird position she slept in, an aching groan escaping her lips. Satoru's texts on her phone wishing a good morning. Life is back to being hell. She responds to his texts with a sigh, dragging her boulted feet for a shower. Contemplating, thinking if there is any escape at all which can be possible. None, nothing comes to her mind. Absolutely nothing.

Drying herself up, applying ointments and bandages to the wounds caused by her husband, she gets ready to go outside, the mall seems nice. Satoru is out of Japan for a few days, perfect opportunity to gather herself back again, after all, Satoru needs something to break, right?

The commute goes by in a haze, thoughts on thoughts piled up, overwhelming like auditorium chatter of an audience.

"Uhm, excuse me, I really liked this one." One of the girls next to her spoke, whiskey-kin hair, a few years younger. It was an only designer in the Chanel store which was left. "Uh- okay." She hums, leaning away. Well, that was too easy? The girl beamed with happiness. "Oh wow! Thank you so much miss!"

Y/N had learnt how to respond with smiles that avoid any questions, and that's exactly what she did. Smiled back at the girl.

"My name is Nanako, I am here for shopping because my birthday is coming up soon. You are here for shopping too, and from the bruise on your jaw and neck, it seems your husband says sorry with new things." She was taken aback at the boldness, blinking.

"N-no, it was just- an accident." "You don't have to pretend in front of me, I don't think your husband is around anyway." Nanako winked, smiling back. "You're really beautiful, pretty sure my dad would have treated you way better. Leave the bastard, dump him!" She continued, following a very confused Y/N out the store. What was the deal with this girl even? "Your dad would be almost my dad's age." "Adoptive! He is a few years older than you I think." Nanako hums again, "Coffee? I like you because you gave me my favourite dress!" "I don't think that-" "Please!" "Uhm, okay." Y/N speaks, giving up and following up.

They settle in one of the coffee shops in the mall, settling in. The waiter comes in and asks for their order, "Iced Mocha, please." Y/N hums, and Nanako orders a Frappucino for herself.

"Nanako, who have you bothered now." A silky voice echoed from behind, her eyes lingered to the man in front of them, black hair touching his back, eyes responsive and appealing, his cologne was strong, musky and spicy, a close-eyed smile plastered on his features. "Geto sama!" Nanako chirps happily, "Please come sit next to us." She urged the man, who scanned Y/N and Nanako.

"Hello, my name is Geto Suguru." The man coos, watching her look submissive and even scared. She continuously reminded herself that Satoru is not here, nothing will happen. "Y/N Gojo." She hums, the large diamond ring on her finger noticed immediately.

Suguru is meeting Satoru's wife for the first time, he had heard that Satoru had changed; he is not the epitome of kindness anymore. It's evident. The bruises on her jaw and cheek are evident. His eyes softened, his heart hurts. Suguru met Y/N first, when she wasn't Gojo's wife… and let her go, the curses within him erasing her memory. All because Satoru loved her and Suguru felt that he owed it to his best friend, to have someone like Y/N. To have someone who can show him how great it is to achieve true love. How a non-sorcerer like Y/N was able to take Suguru's heart away. Oh how he regrets it now, he let his precious Angel go, and now she is in hell. The reminder when her loving eyes turned to void after their last kiss. Suguru has had recurrent nightmares about it. Maybe that's the reason Satoru's behaviour has changed. The fear of losing Y/N back to Suguru.

Well, that fear is about to come true, Suguru has had enough.

"You look beautiful in that dress Y/N Gojo." Suguru's voice took the lead, smiling gently. "Pity those bruises don't really suit someone strong-looking like you." The next statement comes off as scathing. "Tell me, if the person you loved, and the person who loved you back, and you shared a kiss, and they forget you, what would you do to remind them?" Suguru's sudden question took her off-guard. What does he mean…

"Sorry?" "Oh don't be. I know the question is random." He hums, watching the waiter put down the coffee. "I would kiss him again, if a kiss doesn't remind him, don't think anything else will." Y/N answered. Her freshly manicured fingers grazing against the glass.

Suguru's smile only grows wider. "Oh right, wonderful." He hums, and in the next swift movement, his hands are grazing Y/N's jaw. Her eyes widening. What is with this man, what’s happening! Satoru would kill her, Satoru would kill this man. Why can't she move, why is she unable to resist - and why is her body not anxious? If Satoru was to come near to her like this, her heart beat would have raced and pounded recklessly, a panic attack brewing. Nothing is happening now- she is as calm as it can be.

"How I missed my Angel." Suguru hummed, leaning in and kissing her, forcing the most unforced kiss ever. His tongue contained something bitter, something that latched deep down her throat. Suguru wants his angel back, Suguru misses her, Satoru couldn't get someone he can't love properly. Suguru's entire being was shattered when he let her go, it's time he has her back.

[lonely-cowboy]

chasing rainbows

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: you recently learned that connor has only ever seen the world in one color. gutted at the thought of such a colorless world, you decide to help him see the beauty of the world. only he doesn't care about the world. he only cares about you.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: nothing major, but lowkey a mess bc this is my first longer-ish fic, reader is really embracing her y/n moment, connor is so ooc it's kinda insane but i love him so whatever, they're both really confused about their feelings until they're suddenly not

author's note: i'm replaying dbh as one does bc i was sad and missed connor AND I'M LITERALLY FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE THIS PLAYTHROUGH?? my first playthrough was so nice and sweet and silly so now i'm trying to get other endings BUT I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR ALL THE EMOTIONAL DAMAGE?? anyway, my solution (as always) was to write happy connor and some grumpy hank yay! yes i did spend the first 1k words talking about literal colors, ignore that

masterlist ⟡ requests

Work was never the place to do work. That was something you learned from Hank after working under him for years.

Sitting at your desk that was situated across from Hank and Connor, you decided to ignore your terminal and the case report it displayed. You’d get to it eventually. Eventually. Besides, you were confident that you would be able to finish it relatively quickly.

Instead, you were tiredly flipping through a book of color swatches. Your gaze flitted across endless pages, darting from color to color as you searched for something eye-catching. In your recent efforts to make your apartment feel more homely, you decided it was time to add an accent wall, you just needed the right color. Obviously, the precinct was the best place to be color searching.

By the time you reached the end of the swatch booklet, you had only found two colors that interested you. At least then it would be easier to make a decision. You eyed the olive and plum swatches like you would a homicide suspect, trying your best to picture them in your apartment. You pursed your lips in thought, staring at the colors for so long that you could’ve sworn you were going cross-eyed.

“Detective?” Connor called, your eyes snapping to meet his. “Are you alright?”

“Actually, no, I’m not,” you answered with an exaggerated sigh, trying to sound as hopeless as possible. “I’m having quite the dilemma.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked.

The sincerity in his voice made your heart melt. He always showed such care for you. Sometimes you wondered if it was just another part of his social programming, but somehow, you knew it wasn’t. Connor genuinely did care about you, even when it was just your inability to pick a paint color. You almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost.

“I just can’t for the life of me decide on a paint color,” you said, glancing up at him with that shit-eating grin he was unfortunate to know so well.

Connor’s pleasant smile collapsed into a disappointed frown once he realized he had succumbed to your teasing.

“Saw that coming from a mile away,” Hank grumbled.

“You can help too, Lieutenant!” you said in an excessively cheerful tone, just to annoy Hank. “It’s not like you’re doing anything important.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you, kid” Hank sighed, turning his chair to face you fully. Work was never the place to do work.

With both Connor and Hank focused on you, you slid the two color swatches across your desk. Hank leaned forward with mild interest, nodding his head to himself as he considered both choices. Connor mimicked Hank, leaning forward and furrowing his brows at the sight of the swatches.

After a long moment of deliberation, Hank finally said, “Green.”

You nodded in approval as Connor looked at Hank with what could only be described as pure confusion. He then turned back to the colors before looking at you with an unsettled expression.

“I don’t understand,” Connor murmured. “These colors are the same.”

You and Hank stared at Connor in bewilderment. Maybe you could understand it if the colors were different shades of the same color and androids just had a poor sense of color differentiation. But these swatches weren’t even remotely close in color. There was nothing similar about them at all.

You and Hank exchanged a look of confusion. Maybe this was Connor’s attempt at a joke. No, he had made jokes before, and they were genuinely funny. Especially the ones that poked fun at Hank.

“Connor,” you started. “What do you mean?”

“They’re the same,” Connor repeated with a shrug, looking between you and Hank like he didn’t understand what he was missing. And he obviously didn’t understand.

“One is olive, one is plum,” you said.

“Green and purple,” Hank offered rather unhelpfully.

Connor only shrugged again, still unable to differentiate the two.

“Does anything look different than normal?” you questioned.

“No,” Connor replied simply.

Was it possible for androids to be colorblind? The idea baffled you. The only way Connor could be colorblind was if he was programmed to be that way. Why would he be programmed to not see color?

“Can you… I don’t know… describe what things look like to you?” you asked unsurely. Was that too abstract of a thought for an android? It was already too abstract for you. “Does everything look the same color?”

Connor considered your question, eyes narrowed as he glanced around the precinct. Hank looked at you like you were crazy for wanting to get to the root of this. Maybe you were.

“I… I suppose it all appears relatively similar,” Connor said with equal uncertainty.

You frowned at that. The world must have seemed so… well, sad to Connor. You hated the thought of his world being limited to a single color. He deserved to see the world for what it really was. He deserved so much… If you could at least give him this one thing, you would be satisfied.

“Do you want to change that?” you proposed.

“I admit, I would be curious,” Connor replied.

Immediately, you jumped up from your desk chair and started putting your coat on. Connor took that as a sign to do the same, rising from his chair to stand beside you.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Hank interjected. “Where do you two think you’re going?”

“To help Connor, obviously,” you replied with a bratty eye roll.

“That has nothing to do with work, kid, sit down,” Hank retorted, preferring that the two of you stayed with him so that he didn’t have to suffer alone.

“This has everything to do with work,” you countered like the typical asshole Hank knew you as. “Don’t you realize all the ways this probably inhibits Connor’s work? I mean, picture a typical crime scene. There are probably so many details he’s missing because he can’t fucking see color!”

“Actually,” Connor remarked. “I speculate that my limited color sensory was included in an effort to keep me focused on my investigations and avoid any distractions–”

“Connor,” you intervened, turning to give him a stern look.

“Yes, Detective?”

“Shut up.”

Immediately, Connor sealed his lips shut and pressed them into a thin line. You adored it when he listened to you.

You turned your attention back to Hank, flashing that brilliant smile that told him you weren’t going to listen to a single fucking thing he said. He sighed grumpily at the sight of it, turning back to his desk with a shake of his head.

In the absence of any other objections, you grabbed Connor’s hand and led him out of the precinct. You wondered if he could see the vibrant blush that coated your cheeks at the intimate contact. You hoped not.

He did.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Are you sure about this?” you questioned hesitantly.

In the middle of your living room, you stood in front of Connor with his new occipital unit in hand. You held it gingerly as if the slightest touch would break it. Although it was a lot easier to purchase biocomponents than you had expected. If it were to break, you would only have to walk three or so blocks to buy a new one.

You looked at Connor worriedly while he stood patiently. You were far, far from any kind of engineer. You had absolutely zero experience when it came to replacing android biocomponents. No matter how many times Connor reassured you, you still stressed at the thought of making a mistake. He promised it was easy, but how could changing biocomponents be anywhere close to easy?

“You can do it, I promise,” Connor murmured encouragingly.

His hand came up to encircle your wrist, tugging your hand forward gently. Your cheeks heated at the contact, making you aware of just how close the two of you were. You glanced away bashfully as you were overwhelmed by butterflies. When you returned your attention to Connor, you watched in awe as the skin around his right eye peeled away, revealing the natural white plastic. Connor’s eyes flicked across your face nervously, worried that you might be disturbed. But to you, it was like seeing a new and vulnerable side to Connor, one that you very much enjoyed.

As you reached for his current occipital unit, you froze with your brows furrowed. Your apartment was far from an interesting sight. There wasn’t much to look at, your apartment still lacking a homely feeling. Damnit, you really needed that accent wall.

“Come on,” you said without explanation.

You moved to leave your apartment after gently placing the two new occipital units into your bag. Slugging it over your shoulder, you waited at the door for Connor to follow. Connor stared after you, the white plastic disappearing.

“Come on,” you repeated, gesturing for him to follow.

Connor followed without a second thought. God, it really was so endearing when he listened.

You led Connor out of your apartment building and across the street to the nearby park. You wandered aimlessly for what felt like hours, trying to find the most scenic view for Connor to enjoy as his first sight.

At last, you settled on a bench situated in front of a little pond. Tall, stooping trees crowded the pond with just enough space between their branches to see the bright sky above. You were glad to be enjoying this moment in the fall when the leaves were the perfect shades of orange.

You stood with your hands on your hips, eyeing the view with a skeptical glint. Connor would be able to see a good range of colors from here. This place would do just fine.

Pulling Connor along, you sat him down on the bench by lightly pressing on his shoulders. Once he was seated with his hands neatly placed along his thighs, you reached for the first occipital unit from your bag.

“Okay,” you said with a determined huff. “Much better view, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see it very well,” Connor replied cheekily.

You couldn’t help but smile at that, rolling your eyes at Connor’s teasing. This only meant he had been spending a concerning amount of time around you and Hank. When you looked back at him, you exhaled slowly, “Ready?”

Connor nodded once, revealing the white plastic of his right eye once again. Before pulling it out, you reached forward and pressed a soft hand overtop Connor’s eyes, silently reminding him to keep his eyes closed until you said otherwise. When you pulled your hand away, you were pleased to find that his eyes remained closed.

Your fingertips then pressed against the plastic of Connor’s occipital unit. It popped out easily, allowing you to pull it out slowly and with ease, just as Connor had promised. It was jarring to see him without an eye. Or rather without a whole chunk of his face. You worried you might still mess up, leaving him without half of his face.

But when you pressed the new occipital unit forward, you found that it was just as easy as pulling the old one out. It took a moment to adjust, but the new part quickly shifted to match Connor’s appearance, his freckled skin melting over it and the doe-like shape of his eyes returning. That made you sigh with relief. You just hoped they were still the same beautiful brown you found yourself constantly lost in.

You then did the same with his other eye, quietly applauding yourself for not making a single mistake.

With his occipital units in place, you rounded the bench to stand behind Connor whose eyes remained closed obediently. Standing behind him, you placed your hands over his eyes once again, a giddy smile adorning your lips.

“You ready?” you asked, unable to contain your excitement.

“I think so,” Connor said hesitantly.

“Yeah, you’re ready,” you decided.

Slowly, you pulled your hands away, studying Connor with a sweet smile. You expected him to enjoy the view in silence, looking at every single thing he possibly could. But you were surprised to find that he barely even regarded the view. Instead, he immediately turned to look at you from over his shoulder.

With a tentative hand, he reached out for your hand that rested on the bench’s back. He pulled you gently around the bench so that you stood in front of him. His hand still held your limp hand as he stood to face you. He looked down at you with a small but warm smile, eyes exploring every inch of your face.

The unexpected attention had your heart racing, a nervous heat spreading throughout your body. You clenched your jaw tightly, a jumble of confusing and unwanted emotions consuming your entirety. Not wanting to say anything stupid to ruin… whatever this moment was, you clamped your mouth shut. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander, exploring Connor’s features the same way he did yours.

Connor’s warm touch left your hand, making you frown ever so slightly. But you were immediately comforted as he placed both hands on your cheeks. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles along your cheekbones like they had a mind of their own, relaxing your clenched jaw. His eyes locked with yours, never once blinking in fear that he would miss something if he did.

You practically forgot how to speak. You forgot how to do everything. It was a hassle to recall how you were even supposed to breathe. The only thing you could do was stare at Connor with a dreamy glimmer in your eyes.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” Connor mumbled.

You swallowed timidly before speaking, “Thank you.”

“You’re…” Connor began before his LED circled red.

Your gaze flickered to his LED, watching intently as it continued to flash red. That was a poor move on your part. Having broken the intense eye contact, Connor glanced away from you, looking straight ahead and dropping his hands from your cheeks like he suddenly awoke from a trance. Focused on the horizon, Connor’s LED spiraled yellow several times before returning to its typical blue.

His sudden change in attitude only added to your confusion of emotions. You took a pained step back, eyes falling to the ground.

“I didn’t expect the leaves to be this color,” Connor commented casually.

You cleared your throat and turned your back to Connor to focus on the leaves. You didn’t want him to see your embarrassed flush, though you were sure he already did.

“They’re not always this color,” you muttered. “Only in the fall. In the warmer months, they’re green.”

You caught a glimpse of Connor tilting his head, his nose scrunched with intrigue. He tried to visualize what that would look like, but having only seen one color since his creation, he didn’t seem to understand.

“Green like… like the grass,” you clarified, pointing to an open patch of grass.

“I’d like to see that. Perhaps you can bring me back here in the spring,” Connor hummed. When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “Are there other colors to see?”

“So many more,” you answered, flashing Connor a small (and slightly awkward) smile.

Connor trailed along beside you as you strolled through the park. Still too embarrassed to look at him, you also took the opportunity to admire the beauty of the park’s striking colors. You were ignorant to the way Connor watched you contently out of the corner of his eye. Of all the wonderfully colorful sights, you were by far his favorite. You were the only thing he could look at.

“Which one is your favorite?” Connor asked as you slowed your walk, having walked the entirety of the park. “Color, I mean.”

You stopped to consider his question, looking around at the abundance of colors. They were all so beautiful in their own ways that it was difficult to choose. But then your eyes landed on Connor, and it seemed so clear.

“Blue,” you replied definitively.

You felt foolish for your choice, but you couldn’t help that there was some truth to it. Blue had always been a pleasant color, but after knowing Connor, it took on a different meaning. When Connor’s LED was blue, it indicated he was happy. Or at least satisfied. You liked to see him when he was happy. It eased your mind knowing he was content. Because of him, it was now a color you associated with joy.

Though you didn’t say anything, you looked away flustered, wondering if Connor could somehow read your mind. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if he could.

“Do you have a favorite?” you inquired quickly.

Connor pursed his lips, mimicking you as he looked around the park. His head then snapped down to look at you, eyes immediately finding yours. He cocked his head curiously the way he always did. The way that made you so weak you could barely stand.

“What color are your eyes?” Connor wondered.

Your eyes widened, eyebrows arched as if you had misheard him. But you knew you hadn’t.

The way he spoke so nonchalantly drove you insane. How could he be so casual about something like this? Did he know what he was doing to you? Was he doing it on purpose? What did any of this mean? Was there any chance at all that he could care for you the same way you did him?

“Uh…,” you mumbled, stuttering out your eye color.

Connor nodded thoughtfully at your answer, his charming eyes still latched onto yours.

“Then that’s what I would say,” said Connor. “Your eyes are my favorite.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly, clueless as to how on earth you were supposed to respond to that.

The corners of Connor’s lips quirked into an affectionate smile. He arched his brows at you like he expected something more than just oh.

Your mind was racing for anything to say. Were you just supposed to ignore Connor’s loving words that felt far too much like a subtle confession? Were you supposed to confront it head-on? Neither of those options sounded good.

“Thanks,” you whispered. “I like them too.”

As you cursed yourself endlessly for saying the stupidest fucking thing to come to mind, Connor’s grin widened. A quiet laugh escaped his lips, one that you didn’t hear through the blaring alarms screaming “why are you such an idiot?” in your head.

“That was stupid,” you groaned, deciding it was better to admit it than ignore it. “But… thank you. You… you have pretty eyes too.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Connor said cheerfully.

You moved to continue walking with Connor close at your side. Maybe you were crazy (there was always a good chance of that), but you could’ve sworn he was standing considerably closer than before. Your arm swung at your side, his arm brushing against yours in the slightest. It didn’t matter how insignificant that touch was, it meant something to you. Maybe it meant something to Connor too.

You had been walking in complete silence until Connor spoke, his words making you trip and fumble and scream and cry and scream and die a little.

“You’re pretty to look at. All of you, not just your eyes,” he said, shooting you an adorably attractive wink for emphasis.

You stopped dead in your tracks, Connor trailing ahead until he noticed you were no longer beside him. You stared at him with a far too serious expression, one that made him doubt his words. How could he be so casual about something so serious? Did he actually feel this way, or was it all a heartless prank?

“Your words are really fucking with me, Connor, you know that?” you said.

“I know,” Connor nodded with a cocky edge. God, he really was spending way too much time with you and Hank to be this snarky.. “Your heart has been racing the entire time we’ve been together.”

“So you’re purposefully torturing me?”

“I wouldn’t consider this torture. But, yes. I suppose I’ve been… holding this over you.”

“Well, stop that!”

Connor flashed you a cheeky grin as he approached you again. His hands moved to cup your reddened cheeks, warming them with his soft touch.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t do this to you,” Connor said fondly. “Not when you’ve shown me how beautiful the world is… How beautiful you are.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, trying to hide the smile that crept along your lips.

“You’ve told me before that I’m terrible at shutting up, I don’t see why I should start now.”

You and Connor wore matching smirks as you tried to best the other, subconsciously moving closer to each other.

“Oh, so you don’t want to shut up and kiss me?” you parried.

“When did those words ever leave my mouth?”

“When did you get so cocky?”

“When I realized I could have you.”

You had nothing to say after that. No witty remark or snide comment. All you could offer was a gentle smile.

Connor leaned forward, his nose brushing against yours. He was so close that you could feel his breath– so real for an android– against your lips.

“Pretty smile too,” he murmured, his lips grazing yours.

“It’d look even prettier if you actually kissed me,” you whispered.

Connor knew he couldn’t win this battle of wits. He honorably accepted his loss, knowing it was the only way to kiss you. You beamed into his kiss, proud of yourself for being so stubborn. That was quickly lost on you when you felt the softness of Connor’s lips. You indulged in his touch, leaning forward against his chest to feel as much of him as possible.

Connor pulled away sooner than you would have liked, resting his forehead against yours. A breath of a laugh escaped his lips when he saw that desperate glint in your eyes. He pulled back to look you in the eye after pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. His thumb brushed under your eye, lost in the color he loved so dearly.

“You’ll always be my favorite sight.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hiya sex witch

Hope ur having a good one!

I have a sexual health question. Im 28yo M and am as far as i am aware overall healthy, but sometimes i have trouble orgasming during sex, but rarely during masturbation. Im aware that contrary to popular belief men dont always orgasm 100% of the time and that there is nothing wrong with having difficulty with "keeping it up" so long as its not health related (i dont usually have difficulty with this part specifically, i just feel from experience that some times this is forgotten among people so i wanted to mention that)

I enjoy sex with my partners and im mentally very in the mood for it! Im not really nervous and havent felt pressured with them but some times it takes a very long time for me to finish, like more that 1.5 hours and up to 2 or 3 one time, and understandably my partners dont usually want to go that long lol i also find it frustrating because i feel the need around the 30-40minute mark but like i dont get that final push if that makes sense?

I did online searching and most answers are kinda wishy washy about causes other than excess masturbation, ive cut down on masturbation because alot of places say that that can be a cause but i only masturbated like once or twice a week and now im down to twice a month but it still happens.

Ive also heard that a too tight circumcision can lead to desensitisation and is what im kinda thinking this might be, i was circumcised at birth and have what the forskin restoration website ( www.restoringforeskin.org ) says is a RCI-0 or maybe RCI-1 which are considered super tight or tight respectively, both of which can lead to lack of sensation. And am considering maybe working on restoring my foreskin due to this, but i wanted your opinion on how like legit this all is considering it kinda sounds idk farfetched to me? Like being able to just stretch the skin back out with tape, is that even a thing? And does this sound like a possible cause?

Thanks for all your hard (no joke intended)'work and ur also awsome!

P.S. tumblr is being fucky on my phone all the time so if this is not anonymous please ignore/dm me to say make it anonymous again or whatever tanks

hi anon,

thank you so much for your question! it sounds like you've put a lot of thought into it already, and it was very interesting to read.

I have some hesitation in declaring that something is physically the matter with your penis, mainly because you mention that orgasm tends to come at a much more typical speed when you're masturbating. in the case of a physical problem I'd usually expect to see similar results whether you were having sex solo or partnered, which to me suggested it might be more of a mental/emotional blockage here?

but, having said that: I'm not a healthcare provider! and it sounds like a visit with one to discuss your observations might be really beneficial at this point.

while foreskin restoration is a thing, it's also a thing that doesn't have much research backing it up, and long-term results aren't very well known. consulting with a urologist before attempting a restoration sounds like it would be a great idea for you, as they could help confirm whether your foreskin is the problem and advise you on safely practicing restoration if it's an appropriate treatment. or, if that isn't the case, they're likely to have a much better idea about what else might be causing your situation.

best of luck!

[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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[sapphire-writes]

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) part 10

previous part ~ series masterlist

pairings: modern!Aegon x Reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: The ending to our chaotic faves.

warnings: 18+ spicy stuff below the cut (p in v, fingering, praise, light hair pulling) descriptions of rehabilitation for addiction

word count: 4.1k

note: the ending to our chaotic faves, I'm already emotional I hope you all enjoy this final chapter! 🥹 🫶🏻

masterlist

You held Aemond’s hand walking into the skyscraper. You’d driven into the city together, Aemond’s hand wrapped tightly around your thigh the whole time he drove, long fingers tapping mindlessly on the soft skin. 

You love him.

It’s all you’ve been thinking of since leaving the hospital, it’s all you think about every waking moment, every time you close your eyes to sleep. Every blink, every heartbeat is echoed by those three words.

I love you. 

You haven’t told him. You’re not sure when the right time will be. Luke was just released, and Aegon was just getting ready to leave for treatment. As soon as he was ready to go another thing happened. Viserys had been so sick for a while, and finally in his sleep passed away. So Aegon’s leaving was delayed until after the funeral. 

It was a small affair. Aemond was stoic and silent throughout, not wanting to talk, not wanting to speak at all. Rhaenyra gave a eulogy and Alicent spoke some words as well. And that was it. Helaena and Rhaenyra were the saddest, teary-eyed, and melancholic. The boys held their true feelings inside of them, you were sure of it. 

Now the settlement has begun. 

You wish everything would calm down, wish you had a moment to breathe. They’re mostly good things, but still. It’s a lot for anyone to handle. 

Helaena is waiting for you both in the lobby. She’s wearing a dress that reaches her calves, a deep forest green color. Her hair is pulled back from her face, and a dark blazer rests on her shoulders. She’s minimized her normally excessive jewelry which is such an odd sight, as though she’s missing a crucial part of her. You can see her fingers clearly without her rings, the beetle tattoo on her right-hand pointer finger staring at you.

“Ready for this?” she asks Aemond more than you.

It’s just them. No Daeron, no Aegon. Helaena and Aemond, are the two representatives of that side of the family tree.

“As I’ll ever be,” Aemond answers.

You glance at him. He looks formal as well, though it’s not as jarring as Helaena’s look. Aemond wears a perfectly fitted black suit, a sapphire blue pocket square the only pop of color. He has opted to keep the chain he usually wears around his neck, you can just see it under the collar of his shirt, catching the light. 

His silky hair is pulled back into a bun, out of his face, accentuating his sharp features. You wish you could go in with them if nothing more than to show your support. As you walk down the hallway and into the elevator, Aemond snakes his hand around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“You okay?” he murmurs, lips tickling your ear.

I love you. 

Your heart nearly bursts. Here he is, on the most stressful day of his life, and he’s wondering how you’re doing. He never ceases to amaze you. You turn your face toward him. 

“I’m okay,” you tell him, “I should be asking you that.”

Aemond chuckles. Helaena shifts nervously and you reach for her hand. The buttons in the elevator glow, dinging with each floor you pass. 

“It’ll be over soon enough,” Aemond answers, grip tightening on your waist, “we’ll get through it, we always do.”

“Hopefully not in pieces,” Helaena snarkily adds, and you squeeze her hand. 

The elevator dings and you walk out. A grand lobby is in front of you, with a receptionist desk and several leather couches forming a circle. The receptionist smiles, before standing.

“Mr. Targaryen, Ms. Targaryen,” she greets, moving out of her desk. 

Aemond’s hand remains resting on your hip as though he’s not ready to part with you.  

“If you’ll follow me right this way, we can begin,” she tells them. 

You place your hand over Aemond’s beginning to unravel yourself from his grip. His fingers tug lightly on the fabric of your dress, as though he’s not ready to let go.

“I’ll wait right here,” you assure him, squeezing his hand.

It’s so cold without his embrace. 

Aemond nods, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead, following it with one on your lips. Helaena takes a deep breath, steadying herself, before beginning down the hallway towards a large glass room. You can see Daemon and Rhaenyra already seated, across from Otto Hightower. 

You weren’t allowed in the room. When Rhaenyra and Daemon had walked into Casterly Rock Law Firm the very air seemed to vibrate. Their presence was powerful, it signified the turning tide. 

Aegon wasn’t present. He was already on his way to treatment. Otto insisted he didn’t need to be there, and that we could phone him in if necessary. 

Jace and Luke also were not there. They sent their lawyer and that was it. They were done with the band long ago. 

It’s going to be a long day.

Aemond glances at you, and even though he’s intimidatingly tall, and looks the part of a terrifyingly handsome businessman, he still manages to look at you with such fondness you think you might keel over.

I love you.

“Good luck,” you tell him instead, and he follows Helaena down the hall. 

You bring yourself to one of the couches, place your bag down, and reach for your phone. It’s early and bound to be a long day. There’s a fish tank in the corner, much like the ones you might see in a dentist's office. You find that is the majority of your entertainment, watching the exotic fish swim around and around. 

You go down to the main floor at one point to a coffee shop there. You spend some time scrolling through your phone, texting Baela and Rhaena updates while snacking on a muffin and coffee. You decide to bring Helaena and Aemond coffee, paying the barista, and heading back upstairs. 

A little while later, you hear the conversation become louder. Several people leave the room and you focus on the words you hear float down the hallway. 

“The album is out, the damage is already done,” Daemon says, leaning back in his seat.

He looks pissed, silver hair disheveled as though he’s been running his hands through it. 

“We can divide the royalties,” Otto tells him, “Rhaenrya can get an even split.”

“You think money just fixes everything, don’t you?” Daemon says, eyes narrowing.

“Let’s recess,” one of the lawyers says, breaking the tension in the room. 

You hear Rhaenyra and Daemon arguing as they exit the glass room and walk down the hallway. 

“Daemon-” Rhaenyra begins, grabbing his arm. He angrily pulls away from her. 

“You should have consulted me,” Daemon snaps, “before agreeing to this foolishness.”

“It’s the only way,” Rhaenyra argues, “I’m done tearing everyone apart.”

“It is them who have wronged you-”

“So what?” Rhaenyra asks incredulously, shaking her head, “So I sue my siblings? Maybe I’ll win, and then what?”

Daemon glares, not speaking. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” Rhaenyra tells him, “this isn’t what I ever wanted.”

“You wanted to be a star,” Daemon argues, placing a hand on her cheek.

Rhaenyra’s face falls, silver hair hiding her face. 

“Not like this,” she tells him. 

It is then Daemon notices you, the two coffees you hold in your hands. He drops his hand from Rhaenyra’s cheek, shoving them into the pockets of his suit. Rhaenrya turns, giving you a tentative smile. 

Daemon walks in the opposite direction, not speaking to you. 

“How’s it going?” you ask Rhaenyra as she sighs. 

“As well as it can, I suppose,” she tells you. 

You nod. The coffee cups are burning your palms but you don’t move to leave. 

“Thank you,” you tell her, “for being the bigger person. I don’t think-” you pause trying to find the right words for what you want to say, “I don’t think they could have been.”

Rhaenyra smiles knowingly. 

“They have more obstacles than I do,” she agrees, her gaze flickering back to the glass room, where Otto Hightower still sits, speaking to Aemond and Helaena. 

“I’ll be right back,” you tell her, heading into the room. 

An exiting lawyer holds the door for you, and Aemond and Helaena look up as you enter. Helaena smiles softly, while Aemond’s face remains more neutral. Though there is a shimmer in his eye when he sees you. Otto stops speaking, waiting for you to leave. 

You place the coffee in front of them.

“Thanks,” Helaena says, smiling though her eyes are tired already. 

Aemond holds his hand out to you and you take it, letting him gently squeeze your fingers. He’s tense, painfully stressed you can tell. You hope the small touch relaxes him a bit. Otto watches you like a hawk, you can feel his eyes following the connecting path of Aemond’s hand to yours. You squeeze his fingers once more before letting his hand fall, exiting the room.

Rhaenyra is still standing outside. Daemon has yet to return.

“It’s probably going to be a few more hours,” Rhaenyra tells you, “these things can go on forever.”

“You’ve done this before?” you ask.

Rhaenyra shrugs. 

“Not really,” she tells you, “I joined my father a few times. He had a lot of legal problems back in the day.”

You nod, feeling as though you’ve heard that story before. 

“Are you going to hang around all day?” Rhaenyra asks.

You look into the room once more, and watch Aemond tap his fingers against the table. The only sign he’s uncomfortable. 

“Yeah,” you tell her, “it’s worth the wait.”

The hours go by slowly as you wait in the lounge on a sleek leather couch. You text Baela and Rhaena throughout, sending them updates and whatnot, though there are few. You’re kept pretty much in the dark. 

The sun begins to sink in the sky as the hours tick by, and at some point, you’ve begun laying on the couch, sleep drifting over you. Until a hand brushes some hair from your face, startling you awake. 

“What happened?” you mumble, lifting your head.

“Shhh,” Aemond’s gentle timbre greets you, “it’s alright, princess. It’s over.”

You blink several times, seeing Aemond crouching in front of you, Helaena standing behind him, coat draped over her arms. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, as Aemond stands. 

“Well?” you ask, desperate to know the outcome.

“Everything’s okay,” Helaena says, “Rhaenyra is getting an even share of the royalties from the album, she’s even open to collaborating again.”

Your eyes widen.

“That’s great Hel,” you tell her and mean it. Helaena’s music means everything to her.

Aemond and Helaena share a look. 

“What else?” you ask.

“Dracarys is over,” Aemond tells you, “Officially. Jace and Luke don’t want to continue playing, and with Aegon in treatment…” he trails off.

“Aegon never really wanted this,” Helaena finishes, “I mean, we all know that. He did it because Otto made him. The band made him worse. Maybe without it, he would be okay.”

You grab Helaena’s hand, standing from the couch.

“He’s going to be okay, Hel,” you tell her, “he’s getting the help he needs.”

“I know,” Helaena says, sighing, “I just wish he didn’t need it in the first place.”

Your heart hurts for her. Breaks for the whole family.

“You want me to come over?” you ask her. 

Helaena sighs, shaking her head. 

“That’s sweet, but I’m okay,” she tells you, “I just need a shower and to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, of course, Hel. Whatever you need,” you assure her, nodding. 

You walk out of the building together, but part ways in the parking garage. You and Aemond drove together, and wait for Helaena to leave, sitting in the car in silence. Aemond’s hands grip the steering wheel, but he doesn’t start the car yet. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Aemond says, “I feel good. I feel…” he trails off for a moment, “weightless.”

Your eyes flicker about his face, a small smile coming forth on your own.

“Weightless?”

“Yeah,” he continues, releasing a deep breath, “I feel like all this time I was trying to hold everything together, hold everyone together. Hold myself together. And now that it's over I feel…lighter.”

You don’t say anything, giving him the space to continue. He glances at you. 

“It feels fucking good,” he tells you, and then he smiles. Smiles like he’s free. 

Your face mirrors his and there’s no stopping it this time, the words fall from your lips effortlessly, unconsciously.

“I love you,” you tell him.

Aemond’s breath catches, his violet eye widens and for a moment you think you’ve chosen the wrong time to confess your feelings. Your cheeks heat up and you blink rapidly, tearing your gaze from his. You clear your throat and his hand moves on top of yours. You meet his eye once more. 

“I love you,” he tells you, “I have loved you for a while now.”

You release a shaky breath, smiling softly. 

“A while?” you ask.

“As long as I can remember,” he confesses, “as long as you’ve been around.”

You listen, eyes wide. 

“Why didn’t you-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupts, “we found our way to each other eventually.”

You wonder how Aemond held onto that faith that you’d come to him eventually, that the heated arguments would turn into raw passion. Or maybe it was passion all along. You think back at all the interactions, all the breadcrumbs that led you toward him.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you tell him.

“Don’t be,” he assures you, “I wouldn’t change anything.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Anything?” 

“Well,” he thinks for a moment, “No. No, I wouldn’t.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. 

“Are you ready to go?” you ask, desperate to get home, desperate to forget this day and snuggle up with him.

Aemond’s eye flickers over you.

“Get in the backseat,” he says, surprising you. 

Desire pools in your belly, makes your stomach flip flop. 

“What?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he asks, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips. 

Your face flushes, but you open the door to get out. As you open the door to the backseat, you glance around the parking garage. There are cars, but no people around. It’s getting late, people are bound to come for their cars soon. Aemond slams his door shut, sliding into the backseat. 

“C’mere,” he says, taking your hand. 

You slide into the seat, as Aemond pulls you to his lap so you’re straddling him. 

“People are going to see,” you whisper as his lips connect with yours, effectively silencing every complaint you had prepared. 

“We’ll be quick,” Aemond murmurs against your lips, fingers digging into your hips.

You whine into his mouth, grinding yourself against the hardness between his legs. You can feel his smile against your mouth as you wrap your arms around him. 

“Aemond-” you moan as his hand travels up your back, tugging the roots of your hair, and exposing your neck.

He brings his mouth to your throat, nipping and sucking just the way you like, leaving you thrashing against him. It’s hard to pay attention to the outside, but you’re sure you see a figure walk past, some poor businessman just trying to get to his car. You whimper, both from Aemond’s attention and from the fear of being caught. Aemond merely chuckles, hands palming your breasts.

“I like you all nervous like this,” he murmurs, kissing your lips once more, “look at you, pretty girl.”

“We should go home,” you tell him, nails gently tracing the chain that hangs around his neck, “finish what we started.”

Aemond grins, reaching under your skirt and stroking your panties. Your lips part and he moves the lace aside, sinking a finger inside you. 

“You really want to stop now?” he asks, and you moan, “tell me, c’mon baby use your words and tell me.”

No words, no thoughts come to your head just Aemond. Just his fingers, fuck he just added another one curling into you just right. Stroking that rough patch that makes you tremble against him, grind your hips into his hand. 

“My pretty girl wants to get fucked right now?” he asks, feigning confusion, “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you whine, body flushed with desire. 

“Tell me again,” Aemond demands.

“Yes I want you to fuck me now,” you tell him.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs, “How can I say no to you?”

“Aemond please,” you beg, muscles clenching around his fingers as your release nears.

“Come on my fingers baby, and I’ll give you what you want,” he tells you, kissing your neck once more. 

You come with a strangled cry, thighs trembling. Aemond carefully, but swiftly, removes his fingers and frees his straining cock. You lick your lips, mind still hazy, and sink down on top of his thick member. Aemond’s jaw slacks as you clench around him, slowly beginning to ride him. 

He holds your hips, assisting your movements, being careful to make sure you don’t hit your head on the ceiling. You wrap your hands around his face, looking into his violet and sapphire eye.

“I love you,” you tell him again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. 

“I love you,” he tells you, connecting your lips.

It’s a mixture of moans and ‘I love yous’ in the small space, windows clouding with steam as you ride him until both of you find your releases, collapsing into each other, a tangled mess of limbs in the backseat. 

90 days later 

A garden party is Helaena’s idea. At the Targaryen home. More like the Hightower home now, as Alicent changed her last name the second Viserys’ last breath left his lips. You came early, to help set up. 

It’s Aegon’s coming home day, as the banner Helaena hung in the backyard reads. He’s spent the past three months in intense rehabilitation for his drinking. More like a five-star resort really, the best Hightower money could afford. 

It’s a beautiful summer day, Helaena is clad in a baby blue sundress, covered with a pattern of ivy twisting its way all over the material. You’re wearing something similar, a nice light, airy sundress to keep cool in the early summer heat. 

“Hey!” Baela calls, walking down the hill that dips down to the backyard from the main house. 

You’re with Helaena setting up the table, as Baela makes her way to you. Her smile is brighter than the sun as she hurries over to you.

“Hey!” you greet her, throwing your arms around her. 

“I’ve missed you,” she whines, holding you close in an embrace.

“It’s been a week, Baela,” you tell her laughing.

She groans, playfully frowning.

“I know,” she says pouting, “but it’s hard! With you officially moving out, and now Rhaena’s moving in with Luke! You’ve all abandoned me!”

Helaena laughs.

“Aren’t you moving in with Jace this weekend?” Hel asks.

“That is beside the point,” Baela argues, but smiles at Hel.

“This is why I live alone,” Helaena says, nodding.

Moving in with Aemond was a new development. You decided that it was time for a new place, to put the old apartment to rest. Aegon agreed to continue living there and Daeron was going to move into Aemond’s old room now that he was back from studying abroad. It would be good for them to keep an eye on each other. 

“Speak of the devil!” Helaena adds, waving at Rhaena who comes bounding down the hill.

“Yay! I’ve missed you!” she says, joining Balea and your hug. 

You squeeze her tightly, the three of you twirling around. Helaena laughs and you point at her. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. 

“No, I don’t really like group hugs-”

“Hel! Get in here!” Baela says firmly.

Helaena sighs but joins, hugging the pile of you awkwardly. Alicent comes down the hill then, trailed by Daeron and Aemond who are helping her bring food down to the table. 

“Very sweet,” she comments, smiling, seeing you all hug, “Is Rhaenyra here yet?”

“Not yet,” Helaena answers as you all pull yourselves from the hug. 

Luke and Jace walk down the hill next, followed by Sunfyre who nearly knocks Luke over, sending him tumbling down the grassy hill. The happy golden bounds down the hill, tail wagging manically before racing back up towards the house.

You spot Aegon then. 

He pets Sunfyre on the head affectionately. Rhaenyra appears behind him. She’d been the one to pick him up from treatment, she’d insisted. 

He looks good. Better. Well. 

The dark circles that rim his eyes have nearly vanished completely, and his eyes are clear and cloudless, paying gentle attention to the happenings going on around everyone. His smile reaches his eyes as Helaena embraces him, hands clinging to his shoulders like he is a raft in the middle of the ocean.

It always seems like Helaena is closest to Aemond. But there is something so painfully intimate about Helaena’s relationship with Aegon. Born nearly a year apart, they’re almost like twins; they're so close. Aegon buries his head in her shoulder, holding her close. 

You smile as they finish their embrace, looking away for a moment. Aegon spots you, walking over with his hands in his pockets. You’ve never seen him like this. Shy, almost. 

“Hey,” he says, smiling tightly.

“How have you been?” you ask.

“I’m good, yeah,” he says licking his lips, “I’m doing well.”

“You look great, Aeg,” you tell him, and it's true. 

“How’re you doing?” he asks.

You glance at the group, at everyone so happy and free. It’s like a weight has been lifted from everyone’s shoulders. Even Alicent is smiling, as Rhaenyra talks to her. Everyone is lighter. 

“Really good,” you tell him, “Everything’s good.”

“Okay! Let’s do this, Aegon,” Alicent waves him over to the cake, “this cake is for you, because we are so proud of you, and happy you’re home.”

Aegon walks over to his mother, as everyone takes their seats around the table. Aegon sits in front of the cake and Alicent ruffles his hair, before placing a kiss on top of his head. She leaves her hands on his shoulders, sighing contentedly. 

“The whole party is for you,” Daeron grumbles, earning a smack on the arm from Helaena.

“Ow!”

“Shush.”

“This is awesome, thanks Mom,” Aegon says, placing his hand over hers.

Alicent reaches to grab something on the table. 

“Oh! I forgot the paper plates!” Alicent says frowning.

You stand immediately offering to help.

“I’ll get them, Ali,” you tell her.

“Let me help,�� Aemond says, standing with you.

Daeron snorts, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the two of you.

“Cause it totally takes two people to get plates!” he teases as you hurry up the hill. 

Aemond turns around, flipping Daeron off. Alicent frowns disapprovingly, but you can see her smile threatening to break through. Aegon smiles slightly, before looking away. He meets Rhaenyra’s eyes and she gives him a kind smile. 

You make your way up the hill, and through the back door into the spacious kitchen. You grab the paper plates on the counter when Aemond comes up behind you, placing a kiss on your neck. You turn around and he captures your lips in a heated kiss. 

“Aemond,” you hiss as he grabs your ass. 

You move his hand away as he presses his chest into yours, caging you against the counter. He brings a hand to rest against the side of your neck, bringing his lips to the other side.

“We’re in your mom’s kitchen,” you whimper, feeling your resolve fizzle in your skull.

Everyone’s outside, someone could walk in. Aemond’s hands cup underneath your ass, lifting you onto the counter with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer despite your protests. 

“We started all this in a kitchen, if you remember,” Aemond murmurs, nibbling against your neck.

Your eyes flutter shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, getting lost in him. You’d happily stay like this forever. Kissing Aemond, the sounds of the people you love laughing outside in the warm summer air.

“Remind me,” you purr, arching your back to get closer to him. 

“I love you,” Aemond breathes against your lips. 

He says the words he wishes he said that night in the kitchen. 

The words he wished he’d said that morning in the breakfast diner. 

The words he wished he said every time Aegon hurt you. 

The words he’s told you every day since the settlement. 

Now that he has said them, he doesn’t suppose he will ever stop.

That’s perfectly fine with you.

~ The End ~

note: Thank you THANK YOU SO MUCH for joining me on this journey! I'll probably make a sappy post tonight or tomorrow but for now just THANK YOU for the love for this series ILYSM 💚

DIF taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress, @lexyr23, @reneki, @fictionalcomforts, @serrhaewin, @yariany02, @lily174, @nina2697, @minttea07, @queenofshinigamis, @duesobabe, @maximizedrhythms, @arryn-nyx, @arcadianmoonlight @kittykylax, @hiatuswhore, @issshhh, @echos-muses, @wrendermeuseless, @youcantbesirius, @partypoison00 @chainsawsangel @bellameshipper @wondergal2001, @arcielee @rwdkarla @sweetsweetpsyche @valeric-writes @sahvlren @ohdemimonde @geminidas @darkenchantress @sophielangdonx, @khaothick, @flavorofsalt, @spinachtz, @alitaar, @crazylokonugget @eddiemadmunson, @schniiipsel, @borikenlove, @afro-hispwriter, @whitefang1919, @sarcastically-defensive17, @paprikaquinn, @minttea07, @iiamthehybrid, @ghostheartbeat, @namelesslosers, @iiamthehybrid, @mendes-bae,

[drewharrisonwriter]

Is that alright?

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Singer Reader

Summary: You are a musical guest in The Graham Norton Show on an episode that also features your ex-boyfriend, Henry Cavill. You play your latest single that you've written when you were 18 and in love with Henry.

A/N: Implied previous relationship. I don't think there are any more warnings, except the delusional situation that I've concocted. LOL This is based on the song Is That Alright? by Lady Gaga from The Star Is Born movie.

Check out my fic masterlist.

As the stage lights dimmed, the audience of The Graham Norton Show erupted in applause, eagerly anticipating the next musical guest. The cameras panned to the artist nervously waiting in the wings. You took a deep breath and stepped into the spotlight, gently sitting down on the chair and placing your hands on the ivory keys.

With grace and confidence, you began playing your latest single which took you nearly 10 years to release. A song you've written when you were so deeply in love with the love of your life, Henry Cavill.

As you began to sing, your voice resonated with a depth of emotion that captivated everyone in the room.

When the last note faded into silence, the applause was thunderous. 

You took a gracious bow and went over to the red couch where the guests for the night were all on their feet, applauding as well and congratulating you on your heartfelt performance. 

Henry, being a guest as well that night, caught your eye as he extended a hand to shake yours. You gave him a warm smile as you shook his hand. 

"Y/N, that was absolutely stunning." Graham began when the greetings and applause were over. "This single is truly heartbreakingly beautiful. Tell us about it!" He asked enthusiastically.

You glanced at Graham, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. This was the question you were both expecting and dreading.

"Thank you, Graham." You began nervously. 

It wasn't that it was your first ever TV guesting, but it is the first time you were sharing the screen with your now excessively famous ex, Henry Cavill. Talking about the song you wrote about your relationship with him nearly ten years ago is a bit embarrassing on your end. 

"Yes, 'Is That Alright?' is a very personal song for me. I actually wrote it when I was 18 years old, so like almost ten years ago when I was deeply in love with someone who meant the world to me."

The audience watched intently, unaware of the connection between you and the other guest on the show, Henry Cavill. But Henry, caught off guard by your revelation, nearly choked on his Martini but tried to play it cool as he waited for you to continue. 

"Ten years?!" Graham exclaimed a little exaggeratedly. "Why did it take you that long to release this gem?" 

You laughed a little, hoping you looked cool and calm enough. 

"The long answer or the short answer?" You joked and everyone laughed. 

Even Henry was laughing, you were always funny, and he was amazed you were able to preserve your humor and wit despite the nerve-wracking fame you've garnered over the years. 

"How long will the long answer take?" Graham quipped.

"However long it takes the crew to give me five shots of tequila." The studio erupted with laughter, Graham was laughing behind the cards in his hands. 

"No, I'm sorry." You began, "Okay. So for real, this song holds immense significance to me, it’s a sort of love letter, you see… and these are the words I wanted to let the person I wrote it for know but I never had the chance to.” 

You saw Henry bit his lower lip and look down on the drink in his hand. 

"Why weren’t you able to give this ‘love letter’ to them?” One of the guests asked as you were drinking.

“He broke up with me.” You said shyly and laughter ensued once again. 

“How old were you again when you wrote this?” One of the older guests on the couch asked, an actor, that you can’t remember the name of but looks an awful lot like Nearly Headless Nick from Harry Potter. 

"Just 18. I was so young when I wrote it..." 

"You were binge drinking at 18, you were not THAT young," Graham said in jest and everyone laughed once again. 

You chuckled along with the audience, appreciating Graham's lightheartedness amidst the delicate subject. From your peripherals, you saw that Henry was looking in your direction, he was laughing, too. 

The conversation flowed, everyone on the couch asked their question or complimented your latest single, except for Henry. Graham, noticing how awfully quiet he was, asked, “And Henry, how do you find Y/N’s latest single?” 

You felt a lump form in your throat, you did your best to swallow your drink and as Graham asked Henry.

Henry chuckled, looking down at his drink a bit before looking at you and saying: “It’s beautiful.”

“Awfully unfeeling.” Graham quipped with a fake whisper and eye roll and laughter ensued once again. 

You laughed at Graham’s remark, too and thanked Henry. 

When the show ended, you made your way backstage to hurriedly gather your things when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned to find Henry standing at the door of your dressing room. “Hi…” He said softly. You said a quiet hello and asked him to come in. 

“I’m so sorry, but…” He began as you zipped your bag. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” 

You straightened up and faced Henry, blinking fast trying to absorb what he just asked. 

“Uh…just go back to the hotel and that’s it. Order room service, maybe.” You answered honestly, feeling your face turn warm in slight embarrassment for your lack of fun plans for the night. 

He chuckled lightly, “May I interest you with a Pint?” 

You might have stared at him a little too long before answering, because you saw him lightly cock his head to the side. “Uhm… sure.” You managed to say, finally. 

“Perfect. Meet you outside in 10 minutes?” He said with a huge smile, and you only nodded in reply. You watched him walk out the dressing room, the smile never leaving his face. 

You were a bit shocked.

It’s been nearly a decade since you’ve last seen or spoken to Henry. But the last few minutes… they didn’t feel like much time passed. You sat down and breathed, you can do this… 

It’s just Henry. 

It’s just Henry.

TBC...

[sunnynwanda]

Black hole

Part 2 for the Wedding bells snippet. The next parts can be found here and the finale.

The moment their eyes land on the ring, Hero jerks up. The slumber is chased from their eyes as their pulse picks up. It seems to be racing against time itself, frantic to comprehend the wave of heat crushing over Hero's head. They sit up in their bed, staring at their left hand. They know this ring. They've seen it one too many times in their dreams to forget its familiar weight on their finger.

They fold their elbow, allowing their hand to balance in the air. It doesn't feel foreign at all. Though it should. Hero was never a fan of jewellery, and it's not like their line of work allowed it, so they never wore much. But this, it feels comfortable. Like it belongs on their finger. Like it's always been there.

Hero exhales loudly, waving their hands over their face to counter the heat that blushes their cheeks. The movement sends a sharp jolt of pain between their ribs, causing them to stop with a hiss. Wait. Hero carefully peels their shirt off, examining their wound - a treated wound, mind you.

How the hell... and who..? 

They stop mid-thought. It seems they attempted to ignore a certain constant in their dreams for far too long. It's time they found out the truth of what was happening with their mind and, apparently, now body as well. And there's only one way to do it.

The bell chimes, announcing the arrival of a new customer. The coffee shop is rather empty for a Saturday morning, and Hero assumes not many were willing to wake up this early for a cup of coffee. Only two customers are waiting for their orders, and three more are at the counter.

Hero gets in line behind Villain, standing a little closer than necessary to whisper into their ear. "Hi."

"Jesus Christ," Villain jumps, glancing around to locate the intruder. "You scared the fuck out of me!" They complain, turning back aroun to face the counter and avoid Hero's scanning eyes.

"Since when are you scared of me?" Hero chuckles at their back, unfazed by the hostility. They need answers, and Villain's mood is of no concern to them. "Is that a new development?"

"Fuck off, I'm not committing a crime," their nemesis retorts, rolling their eyes at the customer in front of them that is taking their sweet time choosing a goddamn drink. Villain cannot fathom what could be taking this long.

"Are you not?" Hero muses, nudging their arm as they come to stand side by side. Villain's face is void of emotions despite the harshness of their words.

"We're in a coffee shop - you think I'm that desperate?" Villain quirks a brow. They sigh in relief when the person in front of them finally makes a choice, stepping aside to wait for their order.

"I don't know," Hero admits, but as Villain steps to the counter, they think of a way to test the waters. "Be a darling - grab me a coffee."

With that, Hero walks towards the corner table. Villain is stunned by the sudden change in their interaction style but shrugs and - much to Hero's surprise - obeys.

When they place the paper cup in front of Hero, they only hum in appreciation. As Villain sits opposite them, Hero decides to keep their charade up. They shrug their coat off, visibly wincing at the excessive movement.

"Does it still hurt?" Villain asks without thinking. Hero can bet they don't realise what they said yet. Just how far away is your mind?

"Yeah, it's a nasty cut," they take a sip of their coffee and have to stop a satisfied groan from escaping. Villain nods, staring out of the window absentmindedly.

Hero watches their face, noting their bloodshot eyes and bitten lips, before glancing at their long fingers wrapped around their cup and not finding a matching band. "Where's your ring?"

It's entirely out of the blue, and Villain is positively out of it because they reply before they can process the question and its implications. "I left it on the sink."

"After washing my blood off your hands?" Hero's intense gaze finally manages to draw Villain's attention.

"Wait, what?" Their face remains composed, but the storm in their eyes is a combination of shock and horror. Their fingers grip the poor paper cup until it bends in, causing the hot liquid to spill over their fingers, slightly burning their skin. Villain can't feel it.

"It was real, wasn't it?" Hero asks though the answer is clear now. They grab a napkin and reach for Villain's hand, forcing them to place the cup down.

"I don't know what you're talking about," it's a poor attempt at a save, given the tightness in their voice, but Villain had to try. Their brain is foggy with anxiety and something else they won't name because hope is a luxury they cannot afford. Not unless they are sure.

"Mhm," Hero nods and finishes with their fingers, discarding the napkin on the table before looking up at them. Villain struggles to keep their face emotionless when Hero's palm covers their knuckles gently. "So you guessed I was wounded?"

"You're always wounded. I'm used to your clumsiness," Villain jerks their hand away from Hero's grip, trying their best to sound snarky. "Tactical research, is all."

"Does knowing my coffee order provide a tactical advantage as well?" Hero quips, leaning back against their chair. Their ribs feel like they are about to crumble in, but their wound doesn't seem to be the sole reason.

"If I choose to poison you," Villain hates the way their stomach turns when Hero gives them a lopsided grin, their lips parting enough to reveal their front teeth.

Villain loves that goddamn grin so fucking much. 

"You mean to tell me it was all a dream?" Hero takes a sip of their drink, watching Villain fumble over the brim of their cup.

"Of course," Villain confirms in a decently confident tone, twisting the napkin between their fingers until it rips. "In what world would I marry you?"

Got you.

"Sure," Hero has to press their lips together to keep their smile at bay. They wait for a moment to make sure their voice is stable and to let the tension brew. If Villain's twitching is any sign at all, they are doing a fantastic job of it. "I didn't mention the wedding, though."

Shit. 

Villain bites their tongue as hard as they can. They taste blood, but that's what they get for not keeping their godforsaken mouth shut. Hero's stare is unrelenting and curious.

"You know I always feel sick when you use your powers on me. No wonder I've been so sick recently," Hero is right, they know that. They know everything about Hero, in fact. It doesn't make this any easier. "You're gonna have to explain what's going on."

"I-" Villain sighs, shaking their head. The sheer terror of telling Hero what's happening overwhelms them. There is no way they can put into words just what they've been going through.

The scope of their misfortune borders catastrophic ranges, with them caged in the very centre of the black hole that keeps compressing inside, threatening to shatter the universe over their head while they watch.

All they can do is watch.

Over and over again until their mind breaks.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose  @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi

[seldompathic]

Hello there!! I saw you Ultimate Lifeform Sonic and I'm instantly obsessed, so I thought I'd drop by and ask a few questions! :D

How long did Sonic exist before Shadow was created? Are his powers the same as Shadow’s or does he have his own unique set? Does Sonic have any Black Arms DNA? Is Sonic close to Maria at all?

Sorry if that's too many. XD

Dude I am SO happy you asked, I'd love to yell about him! >:)) Questions are answered out of order here but you'll get the picture! 🤝

Scientists aboard the Ark were primarily focused on harnessing Chaos Energy at the time of his development, so as far as powers/abilities go, I would say that this Sonic's are about the same as Cannon [speed, strength, durability etc] with a little more punch and a LOT more control. He has one power that's unique to him though, an unintended side-effect of sorts, and that's the ability to feel negative energies. Be it literal or emotional. [Shadow damn near gives him a headache sometimes.] But as it stands now, he can only heal minor wounds and illnesses with Chaos Energy.

The research team was adamant that with more training/practice, Sonic could be the key to curing the world of sickness altogether. They tried for a little over a year before it was decided to make another attempt at creating The Ultimate Lifeform, this time with the help of new resources/perspectives. [Less bubbly/more focused, Black Arms DNA, etc] and that's where Shadow comes in.

When Shadow was finally 'born', the team realized that the Black Arms DNA interfered with his ability to control and regulate Chaos Energy, but other than that hiccup, Shadow was EXACTLY what they were looking for. Sonic's purpose changed with that realization. Instead of putting all his training into healing, Sonic was now expected to help his new friend regulate excess energy and learn how to control it. [This fails spectacularly. Shadow's Inhibitor rings are made shortly after.]

Maria and Sonic don't really have a notable relationship at this time, but when Shadow comes into the picture, the three of them manage to form a bond. [Shadow refuses to admit that Sonic is anything more than an annoyance, but we all know he'd blow that station up for him if it came down to it.]

Sonic isn't as close with Maria as Shadow is, but she loves his sense of humor and how he's always finding new ways to get himself into/out of trouble. Shadow is much more serious about rules, and sometimes, Maria just wants to break them. When the urge arises, she and Sonic are partners in crime!

I think that covers everything! I'm sure this will get more development in the coming weeks, but I agree: I'm 100% invested and obsessed with this right now >:))

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

Paddington Station's platform was bustling with many people today.

Amidst the crowd, Ellis and I were walking toward the train's entrance.

Ellis: "Kate, isn't that luggage heavy? Do you want me to carry it?"

Kate: "Thanks, but I can handle it myself."

Ellis: "I see."

(Huh? Did I make him feel a little sad?)

(Oh, right.)

Kate: "Since we have time before boarding the train, let's get something to eat."

Kate: "It'd really help if you could carry it for me."

Ellis: "Sure, of course."

We weren't just going on a trip. Today, our mission was to gather information about a smuggling organization in York, away from London.

(Initially, I was supposed to go on this mission with Harrison, but...)

This morning, I was informed that Harrison would go on a different mission with William, and Ellis would take his place.

Ellis: "Ah, Kate. They're selling some delicious-looking bread over there."

He spotted a stall selling bread and quickly informed me.

Kate: "Come to think of it, you like baguettes, right?"

Ellis: "You remembered what I like. I'm so happy."

Kate: "Of course. Whoa, there are so many options. What should I choose?"

Ellis: "Fufu."

Kate: "Hm?"

Ellis: "Seeing you having fun makes me happy too."

Ellis: “Since it’s fun, maybe I should buy a lot.”

Kate: “Hey, that’s not fair! I want to buy a lot, too.”

We boarded the train and eagerly spread the freshly bought bread on our laps.

The rich aroma of the bread tickled my nose, and my heart danced to the scenery passing by the window.

(Come to think of it, it’s been a while since we went on a trip like this.)

In my slightly relaxed state, I heard Ellis’ voice.

Ellis: “Kate, is the bread delicious?”

Kate: “Yes, very! How about yours, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Mine is delicious too. Your suggestion was spot on.”

Ellis: “Good thing I asked Victor and Jude to let me go on this mission.”

Kate: “Huh?”

Ellis: “Jude agreed to cover for me but gave me extra work starting tomorrow.”

Kate: “Why did you insist on accompanying me on this mission?”

Ellis: “Because there’s something I want to confirm.”

Kate: “Something you want to confirm?”

Ellis: “Tell me, Kate. Between Harry and me, who makes you happier?”

His sudden question caught me off guard, and my eyes widened in surprise.

Kate: “Um, why are you bringing up Harrison’s name now?”

Ellis: “Because you spend a lot of time with him.”

As he pointed out, I had been spending a lot of time with Harrison after becoming a fairy tale writer.

(It’s true that I rely on Harrison, but...)

Not knowing how to answer, I heard Ellis’s calm voice.

Ellis: “No matter whom you choose, I’ll make you happy.”

Ellis: “If being with Harry makes you happier, I’ll support you.”

Ellis: “If being with me makes you happier, I’ll be with you forever. That’s why…”

(Huh?)

I suddenly noticed that he was no longer sitting across from me, but right next to me.

Ellis: “Take the day to think about it. Then tell me later which one between me and Harry makes you happier.”

He always treated me with excessive kindness, like a lover would.

He was so caring and kind and gave me many sweet emotions, but it was never because I’m special. It was because he was kind to everyone.

(Maybe even this question is just another part of his kindness.)

It was like asking whether I prefer lemon or sugar in my tea, a question with a playful undertone.

Kate: “Fufu, I understand. I’ll think about it while I’m here with you.”

Ellis: “Okay. I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

Kate: “And I’ll do my best not to hold you back.”

Ellis: “Kate, you’re not good with scary things, right?”

Kate: “Hey, are you teasing me just now?”

Ellis: “Fufu, busted. Oh, you have something on your lip.”

He brushed the bread stuck to my lip, then licked it off his fingers.

I was momentarily surprised by the gesture, but he smiled at me.

Ellis: “Is this what they call an unrequited love?”

Kate: “I won’t say.”

Ellis: “Fufu, is that so?”

Amidst being swayed by his excessive kindness, the train arrived at York.

Ellis: “Looks like we’ve arrived. Shall we go, Kate?”

(Wow!)

Unlike the familiar London, York had a slight countryside atmosphere.

The flow of time was gentle, the scenery was refreshing, and just standing here was making me excited.

Ellis: “I’m glad.”

Kate: “----?”

Ellis: “You look so happy, Kate.”

(I’m having fun even though we’re on a mission.)

The information that reached the Crown was about the presence of a smuggling organization in this city.

These smugglers secretly import illegal drugs from India and sell them in various countries, lining their pockets in the process.

Our mission was to investigate the three locations suspected as their bases and identify their whereabouts to bring them to justice.

(We’re working in a small group to avoid being noticed while gathering information.)

But it also means that if we were to find ourselves in a dangerous situation, we wouldn’t be able to call for help immediately.

(I need to stay focused.)

At that moment, Ellis’s hand gently caught mine.

Ellis: “Would you like to take a short stroll?”

Kate: “I’d love to, but we have a mission.”

Ellis: “We still have some time. Please?”

(Ugh.)

I waved the white flag in my mind when he squeezed my hand.

Kate: "Can you promise it'll be just a short walk?"

Ellis: "I promise."

Kate: "Then, okay."

Ellis: "Fufu. I feel like I'm acting like a selfish kid."

Ellis: "Looks like there are many people over there. Let's go and see."

He started walking while holding my hand.

His hand holding mine, his broad back—none of it felt like that of a child, and it puzzled me for a moment.

(Hm?)

Ellis: "Is something wrong, Kate?"

Part 1╎Part 2╎Premium End╎Epilogue

[ganseybois]

Ok so— HEAR ME OUT FOR THIS ONE.

Whatever the heck happens to Chim, they end up needing support and it’s TOMMY that somehow saves him and gets him to their wedding (that probably likely ends up in the backyard next to the hot tub or something cause that’s just how Madney shenanigans work). Buck is so relieved and grateful and overcome with emotion that he kisses Tommy on the mouth! With his mouth! In front of everyone! PDA!

(Optional: + and that’s when Eddie is walloped by a crashing uh-oh wave of feelings realisation 😬)

okay i took your optional moment and added a twist I HOPE YOU LIKE IT DARLIN // send me a prompt here

Eddie feels sick - and it has nothing to do with the excessive alcohol he consumed the night before.

The helicopter starts to land in front of the house, their small group of friends and family grinning at the fact that Chim is waving at them from the window, looking just as worn and strung out as Buck and Eddie.

Buck.

Fucking Buck.

He's looking at Tommy land the helicopter with such awe in his eyes. When he lands it, everyone claps, which irritates him further for some reason even though he follows along with it. The helicopter powers down and Chimney jumps out, he and Maddie running into each other's arms. Tommy is smiling at them, this grand, open smile that makes Buck zero in on him.

Eddie watches Buck make way for him.

He jogs forward and Eddie watches as Buck grabs Tommy's face between his hands and pulls him in for a kiss - right there, in front of everyone.

Eddie can't even bother to look at who is shocked, who is surprised - he can't be bothered to see what Buck's parents do or say. He's just staring at them kiss, at Tommy wrapping his arms around Buck, at Buck kissing Tommy over and over again. They're smiling into the kiss, Buck's hand moving to the back of Tommy's head, fingers curling in the strands.

Eddie wants to throw up.

He looks away, he can't watch that - he's not homophobic, obviously, of course not. Hen is one of his closest friends. But...he can't watch Buck do that with someone. He can't.

You never had a problem when he was kissing girls.

But that was before...

"Eddie?" Maddie asks softly, as Chimney runs into the house to presumably wash up. Her hand is gentle as it grabs his shoulder. He meets her gaze - and she is looking so kindly at him that it makes him feel worse.

"Hey," he puts on a smile, but he can feel how fake it is. "Need anything? I can go help Chimney."

"No, it's okay." she squeezes his shoulder, looking over at her brother for a moment - their foreheads are together now, noses brushing, smiling and giggling. Eddie wants to punch a hole through a wall. Again. "It's okay, Eddie."

"What is?" he rips his eyes away from them, and focuses back on her.

She smiles knowingly at him. "Just because he's over there right now, it doesn't mean you won't get what you want, in the end."

Eddie's eyes widen. "Maddie...I..." but he has no good answer. No good answer to that, no good answer to the reason why he feels nauseous over the fact that Buck is kissing a man.

Maddie simply pats his cheek tenderly. "He's so easy to love." she whispers, before moving forward to kiss his cheek. This is a lot for him, too much, he and Maddie have never had a conversation this openly with one another about anything. "Just be patient." she whispers, before making her way into the house after her husband.

As Buck and Tommy part, they walk through the small crowd as everyone starts to make their way inside, Eddie simply standing there.

"Hey," Buck says as they walk up to him, hand in hand. "Ready to go inside?" he claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie looks at him, how beautiful he is. He doesn't even spare Tommy a glance.

"Of course," Eddie replies. "I'm just waiting for you, Buck."

Buck smiles brightly at him, and Eddie? Eddie will move mountains for that smile.

Eddie can be patient.

[writing-whump]

Don't pretend to care

Part 2 of the Sushi poisoning (Part 1). Hector is recovering at home and has an emotional talk with Isaiah.

Hector woke up in his bed.

The air was stale and he was way too warm. Throwing the covers off he was reminded why he was there - his stomach muscles were sore to the core, like someone kicked him under the ribs multiple times.

How did he even get here? It was late afternoon, he was planning on surprising Arnie at lunch. Ahh, that's where it all went wrong.

Tentatively lifting himself up into a sitting position, he found a wash basin by his bed and a glass with water. His throat was rough and dry, and his mouth tasted terrible, but just the idea of water in his stomach made him slightly nauseous.

This whole thing had been a mess. He threw up his weight in sushi at the mall, had to be rescued by Isaiah, and got Arnie all panicked. The car ride home was a blur for him, he could barely put one foot after another at the elevator and he had to go to the bathroom immediately after they came when his bowls decided to get rid of everything that got in too deep to be thrown back up.

Jeez, what a day.

"You should drink some of that."

And it apparently wasn't ending yet.

Hector followed the voice to find Isaiah sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles. Coat and suit and all, like he was on a business meeting that happened to be in a room without chairs.

Hector rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. His oldest brother looking all nonchalant on the ground by the foot of Hector's bed seemed more like a ghost illusion than something that could happen.

"I send Arnie to the pharmacy. You threw up in your sleep, but you didn't wake up at all. You also almost passed out in the shower, so we figured we better watch over you." Still that neutral impersonal tone.

Hector cleared his throat. The surface felt like he gurgled nails. He was feeling more and more stupid over making such a fuss over bad food. Good thing he slept over those events.

"Any-" Hector coughed against his hand, "any particular reason you are sticking around?"

Isaiah gave him a leveled look before glancing down at Hector's shadow next to the bed. It was pulled out almost entirely, folded over itself like a lump of dark clothes.

Hector paled. "Was it...did I-...is Arnie-?"

Isaiah's face was like made of stone. "No. But your shadow was unruly. Kept jumping up and down looking for someone to fight. An enemy making you so miserable, I suppose." He gave Hector another stare that Hector couldn't read. "It calms down when I'm near."

Now Hector felt his face burning instead. Shadows were part of wolves. They were part of their souls, their real feelings, the truest, most violent and primitive parts of themselves.

And Hector's just obviously revealed everything there was to know. Everything Hector tried to cover up with excessive hostility, denial of ties...denial of any hurt.

Silence stretched between them.

Hector lowered his gaze to the floor, saying quietly: "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Stay when you don't want to. Pretend like you care when it's just a pose for you. Don't...don't make him believe you are going to be around, when you don't mean it."

"Is that what you think?"

Hector snarled, head snapping up to glare at Isaiah. He hated this. He hated that cold expression and even colder tone, the ways shadows were supposed to be truthful so Isaiah's was always controlled and quiet. He hated all of this.

"And what else should I be thinking? You never tell me anything. You never show me anything. Fucking poker face with you. Always. Just don't let anybody get to you. I don't know why the fuck you are doing this. Does it look better to pretend like you are a good big brother who- who answers calls and takes Arnie to lunch and-and pretends like he cares, cause it would be unseemly to look like you don't?! What, would your city wolf friends find it rude? Would your reputation suffer for it? What kind of crap is this?!"

Hector heard all about it. Isaiah, the eternal lone wolf who left the strongest pack in Western Europe. One would think that would make him an outcast and a loner, but no, it made him connected to fucking everybody. Every big pack in the city knew his name, had dealings with him, had gotten help from him in some way. He had his nose sticking everywhere, helping with truce dealings and territory negotiations and training pups. He had friends and acquaintances with every wolf, helped them to get into universities, helped teenage pups with their adult exams to get permission to work and study with humans.

The whole city was tainted by Isaiah's hand, like he made all the packs his own big personal web, with himself at the center.

At the Wolfson pack, he was the Executioner of the Leader's will, the scary one, the unreachable one. The unbeatable one.

Outside the family, he seemed to be the most helpful, friendly and influential wolf Hector never ever imagined.

Why did this happen? Why was Isaiah all training and coldness and distance at home, becoming a traitor, spitting at Father's legacy, but tore himself to pieces to be friends with strangers in the whole city? Assembling a pack of weirdos who needed his protection, when he had two brothers who missed him...who wanted him back?

Hector threw his legs over the rim of the bed, not able to bear to be in such a low position while he was burning with anger, his shadow slashing angrily around the bed.

It had Isaiah standing up as well, though he did it all smoothly, like this wasn't upsetting at all.

Hector's eyes blazed as he shot to his feet, grabbing Isaiah by the collar of that pristine white shirt and expensive-looking suit and pinned him against the wall with shaking hands. "What the hell is your deal? What do you want from us, huh?!"

Isaiah's green eyes stared back at him, wide and tranquil.

That was all Hector's busted body could take though. He swayed, grabbing for Isaiah's shoulders to stay upright as vertigo assaulted him. His legs went weak and his stomach muscles heaved and twisted like he was about to throw up.

"Sit down. Come on, sit down," Isaiah barked, moving towards the bed so Hector could collapse on it, breathing harshly. The blond wrapped his hand around his stomach, doubling over as he fought against the gags.

Isaiah crouched next to him, bringing the basin under Hector's chin. Damn it all, Hector wanted to be angry with Isaiah, for not getting help from him!

Hector strained over the basin with harsh coughs and gags with Isaiah giving up his position to sit down next to him, bracing Hector's shoulder so he would kip over. Only a pitiful mouthful of bile ended up being the result of Hector's straining, spit hanging from his lip all the way down.

Isaiah got a towel from the foot of the bed Hector hadn't noticed before, mopping his mouth and chin like a child before helping him lean back against the cushion.

Hector was busy taking deep gulping breaths against the nausea, rubbing his stomach to ease the cramps. They came and went with a force he didn't understand, he was running on empty.

Isaiah stayed at the edge of the bed, watching him with a concerned expression. "Maybe we should talk about this later."

Hector's eyes lolled towards him, hands kneading into his stomach angrily. He was sweaty and hot all over and tired from the struggle. "You only dare to come anywhere near me when I'm hurt or sick. No way we are talking about this any other time. Today or never with you." He wanted to sound more angry, but it came out more like a whisper.

Isaiah sighed, looking somewhere to the left where Hector's face was like he was in a heated internal debate with himself.

"I have no right to want anything from you. I have already ruined everything."

Hector looked at him with bleary eyes. "So what's this deal with Arnie then? He wasn't with you so much. You didn't ruin him all the way, so why start now?"

Isaiah actually winced at that. This close up, Hector could see the slow slow process of Isaiah putting the mask away. His face didn't actually change, but the cold stony expression melted away. His forehead creased, his mouth twisted together, his eyes got a haunted shade to them.

Hector stared at him, realizing his brother was truly giving him what he asked for.

Isaiah closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped away from the bed to lean against the wall opposite it, hands in his pockets. Another silence stretched between them.

"I'm not doing this for fun, Hector. I'm...this is hard for me too, okay?"

"Then tell me."

Isaiah flinched as if Hector punched him.

"I don't know where to start. I don't know how to talk about this. But everything I have done...I wanted to protect you. You and Arnie both. With what Father did...I couldn't-..." Isaiah made a funny expression. If his face could break into pieces Hector thought this is what it would look like.

"I needed to get out after what happened. I don't know how to explain- but Arnie he," Isaiah's eyes glinted with moisture when he looked up, "he wanted to believe in the best of me and I- I needed that so badly. I want to make everything up to you. Although I know you will never let me and I don't deserve to ask."

"Ask what?" Hector breathed out, stomach twisting in turmoil, heart somewhere in his throat.

Isaiah looked down, then up, then to the side, like he didn't know what to do with himself. Hector had not seen him like this since...ever.

"Is it so bad? For me to be close?" Isaiah said in a hoarse voice.

Hector curled up on his side, towards Isaiah but so one side of his face was hidden against the pillow. Waves of heat and cold coursed through him.

He didn't know what to say, what to do in the face of such raw emotion. Somewhere along the way he had given up on believing Isaiah still had any - that he could feel so deeply for them.

Was it really all just a facade? Did he keep himself together so hard to prevent this from spilling out every step of the way?

Hector could not bring himself to ask more questions. Isaiah said nothing else, fighting tears, pain etched into his face, sniffling a little as he tried to put himself back together.

It never crossed Hector's mind Isaiah might not be doing this willingly. That there might be reasons outside of his knowledge and understanding. That this was hard for Isaiah too. He just wanted to get under his skin, to see things, to see him feel things...

Now he wasn't so sure the truth would bring him any peace anymore.

@bellysoupset

[findmeinthefallair]

For the sleepover ask game, share some owl house headcanons about what happened during the time skip. As many as you'd like. :)

Ayyy finally answering this, friend! Sorry that it took centuries to get to!

The one thing I don't shut up about is Hunter's ensuing depression after Belos's death, contrary to the Hollywood kind of ending where everything becomes sunny and everyone can easily move on. We would see the stuff that a therapist would tick the checkboxes for in a mental status exam: slowing down psychomotor-wise e.g. slower speech, flat moods which are the unsettling polar opposite to the earnest emotional expression we love him so much for, distracted attention span, less tidy appearance, and he'd be sleeping excessively for some time. (full mental health meta on this subject here: link) Camila would be making sure he has plenty of movies to watch on the couch so that he isn't locking himself too much in the basement T_T Darius would be monitoring how he helps to rebuild the Isles so that he doesn't overexert himself.

Amity, the twins and Alador would go for walks to the store, in the woods etc, and this bonding time in restoring their relationships would be so important.

Luz's two main challenges would be: 1. becoming more aware of the domino effect of teaching Philip the light glyph spell in the timepool, especially now that everyone is coming out of survival mode, 2. the guilt surrounding Flapjack...I don't think she'd just move on from puppet!Hunter's words "And then I lost him, helping you. But you still get to have your own palisman?!" God this makes me wonder...what was it that the Hexsquad went through in their minds which led to the beautiful decision to get their red tattoos together? I'm gonna sniffle, jfc.

Gus might be the first person to broach the subject of Flapjack again, since he verbally put the same subject out in the open in For the Future (working with Willow, who took the flyer derby photo off the wall to show to Hunter and trying to reach out to him). It's also in line with how he was the first one to express sadness after they became trapped in the human realm i.e. he broke down crying right away. I love this about him whereby he may excel in Illusion magic but he gets down to the truth right away.

Willow is utterly exhausted and there's still some remaining upset from her breakdown about how much she missed her dads, shouldered things on her own and kept things bottled up. She approaches Camila not long after they leave The Collector's Palace to say that Camila was right, and to say thank you. And she needs a bit of space alone for the upset feelings to run their course.

Mattholomule has more surprises up his sleeve for Gus, lol. Gus just doesn't stop being flabbergasted.

The first person to say anything to Kikimora, who is moping and stewing away somewhere, is of course Luz.

Luz and Hunter more or less switch places emotionally if you compare their TTT and WaD demeanors (in FtF, they were both under somewhat similar emotional strain, in their own arcs). In TTT, Luz was very far from her vibrant self, ruminated on her guilt and slowed down so much, while Hunter was on the move: excitedly exploring his self and interests while being in his comfort zone of wanting to help others (he still had the capacity to do so!). Luz wasn't out exploring and connecting with others: she was in the dark prison of depression. If we flip this for the pre-timeskip era: Hunter would slow down by gradually running out of steam to even help others, and isolate himself before getting better...struggling with the absence of Flapjack and Belos, being frozen in time in terms of this bereavement. While Luz, 1. became unfrozen from her long-term bereavement by beginning to accept that her dad and Papa Titan were gone (an emotional place which Hunter simply cannot reach until many months later), 2. was reunited with Eda and King and on the same page as Camila, and would be on the move seeing what she can do to contribute for the Isles. There is a parallel between both of them wrestling with guilt: Luz's guilt about how her encounter with young Philip led to Belos's regime, Hunter's about the impact of his actions as the Golden Guard.

God this one is tough to lay out in clear detail but...the sleeping arrangements for the Hexsquad during the first few nights...emotions catching up to them...I really wonder what it was, and who would want more of their own space and not trouble others (yet definitely not being at peace with whatever was going through their minds) versus who expressed their need to not be alone at night.. Maybe Luz wanted to be with Eda, Raine and King in the Owl House, Amity would have her space back in Blight Manor, and we have Willow, Gus and Darius extending invitations to Hunter. There's no way I can predict which choice Hunter made, coz he may have gone with an arrangement that would've left the others concerned. Whether he obliged out of politeness or was firm enough to say that he didn't want to burden them...hard to tell. OMT, what if he slept alone BUT the palismen secretly huddled by his side in the night like in this beautiful fanart which is one of my faves??: link

Contrary to Hunter, Vee's response to Belos's death would be far simpler closure because she had zero attachment to Belos. Hell, she wasn't raised by him for an entire childhood. And while she would've had some survivor's guilt, we know that the other basilisks eventually came back to life, unlike (ughhhhh) the Grimwalkers who can't be brought back. These are the clues as to how Vee could open up more, smile brightly, and begin to explore the big wide world around her:

Which means she would've definitely been an important influence for Hunter's recovery.

Like...

How long till he could freely smile again? Camilaaaaa...take care of your three precious kids.

These are the first headcanons that came to mind. Might reblog this and add more over time. Thanks for the ask :)

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

How about something on a human transformed into a Cybertronian and the Autobots help her adjust to her new body? Let's spice it up with the person getting a war frame and being a triple changer.

This can take place in the TF Prime continuity.

I'm just doing the original 5 for this one, but it you would like any of the others that joined later let me know in another request! Thanks!

Optimus:

He gives them a history of the different frames, explaining why they have a different build to them. But he does express that it is a very useful build to have.

He gives emotional support, listening to their concerns, and gives her advice on how to get through the dramatic change. He's very patient and reassuring, telling her she's not alone on her new journey.

Optimus makes sure to always have someone with her, whether it's him or another Autobot. He doesn't leave her alone for too long, wanting her to have constant support in whatever she may need.

Ratchet:

He talks through all the technical parts of being a Cybertronian. He explains her new anatomy to her, he explains what is good and bad for them. He answers all health questions they may have.

He explains in great detail what the T-cog does and how to use it, especially since they have the ability to change into three alt modes. He explains in great detail how to get the most energy and use out of Energon and how to not expel too much when doing activities.

He watches them extremely closely. He is worried that because they are not use to it, they may get hurt. Immediately after they turn into a bot, he bans them from going outside for weeks. Saying they must get used to being a bot in the safety of the base before going outside.

Bulkhead:

He starts showing them all the fun things about being a Cybertronian. He includes her in wrecker games, and since she has a war frame she can take him being a bit rougher and more competitive.

He is a little eager, sometimes forgetting she just got changed. He wants to rush into battle with her by his side, and forgets that she doesn't know how to fight or use her weapons.

Afterwards he'll slow down and start showing her how to use everything. He shows her how to regulate her strength, and how to be gentle. He shows her how to and when to use excessive force, and when they should be soft.

Bumblebee:

He sets up a target practice for her and teaches her how to fire. He teaches her how to use weapons in her alt mode.

He also teaches her how to drive all her alt modes. Driving as a human vs a bot is completely different. So he teaches her how to control her driving, now that she is driving her own body.

He's also the one to help her choose her alt modes, telling her which ones would be the most useful and which ones she might find the most comfortable.

Arcee:

Arcee allows her a few days to get used to her body, then she suggests she starts learning how to fight.

Arcee teaches her hand to hand combat, how to be stealthy even though they have a large frame. Arcee is patient and calm, allowing them to get used to their new hand eye coordination.

Arcee also teaches them about being a femme. Being a mech vs femme has a few differences, and although Ratchet does know those differences, Arcee lives through them. So Arcee is the one to have the femme talk with her.

[scoonsalicious]

you're such a wonderful writer and i hope you are doing great 💖

wanted to ask you, how do you write this type of topics that are hard and difficult? what did you feel while writing for chapter 23, 24 and 25?

i hope to know more about you as a writer and your methods because it has been mind blowing reading Unwanted

Thank you so, so much! I'm doing great! lol

So, I originally started writing an answer to this question that more specifically aligned with what you asked, but the more I thought about it, the more I kind of wanted to delve into what this story was supposed to be, what it turned into, and what it was like creating it. This is probably way more info then you every asked for or expected, so I apologize, but just rewatched Endgame in the name of research and I'm crying like a baby right now, and feeling pretty emotional, lol WARNING: This is going to get heavy. So, Unwanted was never actually supposed to turn into what it was. It started with this really simple image in my brain. Reader (not yet named) undercover, working at a strip club, and Bucky showing up to annoy her and get her flustered. She's unhappy to see him. Why? They used to sleep together, but she hates him now. What happened? In the original story, Bucky and Pocket never fell in love. They were best friends, and became FWB. A new Avenger is recruited (Jade was originally named Sage, and then Jewel, before we got to where we are), and Bucky goes on this Russian mission with her and sleeps with her. He comes back dating Sage and distances himself from Pocket, and she's heart broken, because she feels like she'd just been used, and now that Bucky had a new set of holes to fill (Pocket's words, lol), he didn't need her anymore. Then, she gets assigned to this mission in Atlantic City (that part-- the missing women, the trafficking, was always the plan), and uses it as a chance to get away from him.

But then something IRL happened that actually ended up changing the entire course of the entire fic. A little backstory: When I was a child, I was sexually abused by a neighbor/family friend for many years. I didn't have the language at the time to explain what happened to me, so I never told anyone. I changed, going from a really happy, outgoing kid, to being really withdrawn and anxious; it basically destroyed my soul. This, of course, was back in the early '80s, where CSA wasn't really discussed or understood the way it is now. The signs were there, but my parents didn't know they should have been looking for.

I thought I got over it. I thought I processed and dealt with it and moved beyond it, and I grew into adulthood. But in reality, I was just building a mask. But then, in February of this year, while I'd already been working on the fic for several months under the aforementioned plot, something happened: My young nephew started showing signs that he may have been abused, as well, by either his nanny or someone the nanny had exposed him to. My brother and sister-in-law recognized the changes in him immediately, and did everything right. This triggered me, and it was pretty apparent that I had never processed my trauma-- I'd just repressed it. And everything came rushing back. I suddenly had immense anger toward my parents for failing to protect me, for not seeing the signs, for forcing me to interact with my abuser for years and years. It was misguided, and I recognize that, but I never allowed myself to process the emotions at the time, and was kind of starting over from scratch.

So, Pocket, in a lot of ways, became me. I gave her extremes of what I experienced so she could help me work through things, to help me process everything I was feeling, that sense of abandonment, not being able to trust people, the inability to form real relationships because I don't know how to be vulnerable. And I gave her some of my characteristics: from about ages 15-25, I was addicted on and off to opiates, and in college, I started drinking excessively to numb my pain, to the point where I have liver and kidney damage from it. I gave Pocket my use of humor-as-a-coping mechanism, my penchant for swearing, and most importantly, I gave her my pain, my hurt, so that she and I could get better, together.

So, when I write Pocket's spiral in Chapters 23-25, I'm writing an exaggeration of every spiral I've ever had, because, I figure, if I can get Pocket through all of that, surely I can get myself through my own shit, right?

I'm sure it wasn't the answer you were quite looking for, but it's the best way I can explain how I, and Unwanted got here. And as for my nephew, fortunately, after a State Police and Child Protective Service investigation, it looks like he was never actually sexually abused; for that, at least, I'm grateful.

[emotionalsupportvigilante-rp]

⫘⫘ Just your local emotional support vigilante cleaning up corruption and providing tough love to overworked heroes ⫘⫘

Boundaries & character info

Boundaries: Updated Aug 19th, 2024

Minors Please Do Not Interact. (The character and blog owner are both adults in their thirties. 18+ content is posted here.)

Allowed: Playful flirting, mild suggestive remarks, RP starters, platonic interactions, fight scenes, knocking muse unconscious, kidnapping muse.

Not Allowed: Inappropriate remarks i.e. (racism, bigotry, sexism, sexualizing children). Excessively gory interactions. Non consensual touching, Harassment, Bullying, Toxicity. OOC heavy topics like feeling suicidal or the loss of a loved one. ( I'm not a trained therapist, please don't treat me as such.)

This is a hobby and I write for fun, it's not a job so don't try to gatekeep how I RP.

I don't owe you friendship or my energy, if you spam me for attention I will block you.

Character info:

Name: Chizome Akaguro / Hero Killer: Stain

Age: 32

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Grayace/demisexual (Has a strong preference for All Might but is open to people trying to flirt with him.)

Quirk: Blood Curdle - Can paralyze a person after ingesting their blood.

Likes: Heroes that put the safety of others above material or superficial gains. People who follow the law. Offering guidance to those who find themselves lost and in need of help. All Might (seriously, he's obsessed.) Holding to his own moral code.

Dislikes: False heroes. Those who have no morals or convictions. Selfishness. People trying to come between him and his prey. Villains who kill or cause harm without just convictions. Those that mock or harm All Might.

AU vs Canon: This version of Stain is closer to his canon character at the end of season 6. He recognizes how his work has caused more harm than good in forging a stronger society. However, he's now resigned to only killing in self defense or in protecting heroes/innocent people he deems worthy.

Tags I use:

# musings of a hero killer - For general interactions and starters. Tends to be sfw.

# stain quotes - In character quotes directly from the manga or anime.

# all might's emotional support vigilante - StainMight interactions between this blog and All Might RP blogs.

# a talent of tongue - For spicy and explicit posts. [Block this tag if you don't want to see nsfw.]

# stain asks - For anon and general asks. Will try to answer in character unless the ask specifies a want to speak with the admin.

Stain's House:

Stain's Music Playlist:

*The blog admin will update this post in the future when necessary.*