#but i had everything prepared and now i have full obligations to tomorrow bc she insisted i go ahead

[benhardyisdaddy]

Just Between Us - Part 1

MASTERLIST 

(hello this is the story from the ask i was sent!!! im actually really excited bc ANGST ANGST and ANGST sksks this is just the first part and im excited for the second cuz i have so much planned. its not gonna be a slow burn i promise lmao i hope u all like this ily ALSO i DO NOT condone cheating whatsoever idc, im only writing about it for the sole purpose of the story idea that was given to me) 

Word Count: 2,302

“What do you mean you’re going on tour?”

Your best friend Freddie was sat in front of you at a small cafe he invited you to. The biggest smile ever filled his face as explains to you that his band, Queen, was taking off and fast too. He leans in closer and his eyes are wide with excitement.

“I mean exactly just that! Our management got a tour set for us! We’re going everywhere I always dreamed of going to, which is why I’m inviting, no, demanding you to come with us.”

Your eyes open wide as you laugh at his silly statement. You suddenly realize that he’s not joking and you stop. You shake your head and lean forward as well.

“Fred,” you start. “I can’t drop everything and leave. Besides, you have Mary. She should be the one going.”

“She can’t go. I was going to ask the both of you, because you’re the only person that can keep my feet on the ground. If you don’t go, I might actually go mad.”

He looks almost scared as he speaks to you. It breaks your heart knowing that you’re the only source of realism for this man. The way he clings to you as if you’re the very air he breathes. He needed comfort and you, his bestest friend in the whole world, were exactly just that. Like a security blanket he can hold onto when he gets scared. He watches you and looks down at his intertwined hands that are sat on the table. You think for a moment before slowly reaching forward and placing yours on top of his. He looks up fast as a gleam of hope washes over him. You softly smile at him.

“You better get ready to support me when I tell my job I’m leaving.”

Freddie’s once anxious look turns into another huge grin as he nods his head fast and stands up quickly, scooting his chair back. You stand as well as he rushes around the table and engulfs you into a tight hug.

“You’re my best friend. I’ll give you everything your heart desires.”

He pulls away as the two of you look at each other. You bring your hand up and stroke his cheek as he leans into it.

“And you’re my best friend, which is why I’m giving up literally everything for you.” you half tease, causing him to giggle.

“I promise you won’t regret this.” he whispers.

You smile and cup his face gently with both of your hands.

“I know.”

But sometimes promises just couldn’t be kept.

***

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You stir around in your bed, now being awaken from a deep sleep you were enjoying. Today was the day the band would set off for their very first world tour. You had spent the last few weeks preparing yourself for the long adventure ahead. Mary had helped you pack four suitcases full of clothes and items you would need for the months ahead. And, of course, Freddie helped pay for all of it. When he makes a promise to you, he always keeps it. Or at least tries to.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You roll over to your side and finally open up your eyes. That was most definitely knocking at your front door. You glance over at your bedside clock and squint your blurry eyes to make out 5:23 AM. You exhale and rub your eyes with your hands, trying to get rid of this fogginess in your head. Your nerves were insane at the moment too. Yeah, you were traveling with your best friend whom you’ve known since you were 5, but you were also traveling with a band who you have still have yet to meet. Ever since Fred joined this band, he’s been so busy with recording and writing new material. You’ve been so busy with your job as a receptionist and trying to make your failed relationship work, which wasn’t going well. You were terrible with goodbyes, so your soon to be ex would be greeted with a harsh slap in the face when he realizes you’ve left for a different country with another man. Men. Four men to be precise. You were eager to meet them and make a good impression.

“They’ll love you just like I do. They’ll see exactly what I see.” says Fred, helping you pack away some clothes.

“Fred, you make it sound like I’m something special.” you laugh as you tease.

He stops packing and looks up to you fast, his smile falling from his face as he suddenly gets serious. You pause as well and look to him.

“Because you are something special, y/n. Don’t you dare ever think less.”

You sleepily smile to yourself as you remember that conversation when suddenly another loud knock is at your door. You had completely forgotten about it and jump up from bed. You scurry around your dark room and try to find your robe. You eventually find it and slip it on, tying the string around your waist. You rush out of your room and attempt to fix your bed head.

“Who is it?” you yell out.

“It’s the one and only, darling! Now will you open the door, please?”

You smile to yourself as you turn the lock and open the door wide open. You freeze in your tracks and your eyes open wide. You were thinking you’d be greeted by one man at your door, not four. They all stare you up and down as they smile. Fred looks quite pleased with himself as he makes his way into your tiny apartment. Your tiny apartment that was not visitor friendly. You had been so busy with getting ready for the trip, you sort of put aside your clean up duties. As Fred walks inside, you move over allowing the others to follow behind him. Curly one, quiet one and blonde one, you think to yourself as they walk by. The blonde one glances over to you and smirks, causing you to look away fast and search for Fred.

“Freddie, it’s five in the morning. Why in bloody hell are you raiding my apartment?” you ask, walking up to him.

He’s just emerged from your kitchen holding a few glasses and a champagne bottle. He holds them up and smiles.

“Today’s the day we leave for the tour. Celebrating needs to start as early as possible!” he exclaims.

“I’m so sorry for intruding.” says the curly haired one.

“Yes, we tried to tell him not to bother you, but you know Fred…” says the quiet one.

You softly smile to them as the curly haired one holds out his hand for you to take.

“I’m Brian by the way. Nice to meet you.” he says sweetly.

You shake his hand and blush.

“And this is John,” he says as John holds his hand out for you. “And this is-”

“Roger.” says the blonde one walking up to you.

He holds his hand out as well and you take it. You can feel the hard calluses on his hands and instantly recognize him as the drummer.

“Nice to meet you.” you say, your eyes never leaving his.

You realize you were staring as you suddenly pull your hand back and look to the others.

“Nice to finally meet all of you.” you say fast.

Freddie walks up to you and hands you a glass of champagne as he sips on his.

“Fred,” you start. “I don’t think I should be drinking at almost six in the morning.”

He laughs and chugs the rest of his drink down fast.

“Darling, we’re rockstars now. This is a glimpse of your new life.”

All of the boys shake their heads and laugh as you smile at him. Roger walks up to you and looks around.

“Where’s your loo?” he asks.

“Oh, it’s in my bedroom on the right. Door should be open.”

He smiles and winks to you as he makes his way to it. Your stomach flips as you turn back to Fred.

“Alright, rockstar, at least let me change before you get me drunk before noon.” you tease as you walk to your bedroom and straight to a suitcase.

You unzip it and pull out the outfit you had planned for that day. You place it on your bed and turn around to grab some undergarments as your bathroom door opens up. Roger walks out and spots you, your back facing him. He smiles and watches you for a moment before speaking.

“So, you’re going on tour with us, huh?” he asks, making you jump and spin around.

You had almost forgotten he was in the bathroom. You nervously smile and nod.

“Freddie has a way of making me do what he wants.” you jokingly say.

Roger lifts a brow and laughs as he watches you grab your clothes from the bed.

“Lucky man.” he says before exiting your room.

You’re stood there by yourself as you stare at your door speechless. You come back to reality as you walk to your bathroom and take a quick shower and change. You finish getting around as you pack up the rest of your essentials that you will need for tomorrow. You place them in your luggage and walk back in the living room. Brian and John are sat on your tiny couch as Fred and Rog are stood by your kitchen counter, sipping on their drinks. They all go quiet as you walk out and you can feel your cheeks heat up. You walk up to Fred and take the glass from his hand and quickly chug it down. All of their faces turn into a mixture of shocked and impressed.

“Now she’s getting with it!” shouts Fred, making you laugh.

“If I’m gonna be stuck with you for months, I think I’ll need it.” you say winking at him.

“Smart girl.” calls out Brian.

Fred rolls his eyes then claps his hands together loudly, causing you all to jump.

“Well, we should get going.” he states as he walks in the living room.

“I thought we didn’t fly out until noon?” you ask, confused.

“Plans might’ve changed.” he says, spinning to face you. “The boys will help carry your bags to the van. Right?” he asks, looking at all of them.

They all nod and murmur yes as they stand up and look at you. You smile to them and show them all of the luggage you were taking. They oblige and begin rolling them out to the van.

“Are you ready?” asks Fred with a smile plastered to his face.

You take in a deep breath and smile back.

“As much as I can be.”

***

“Fred.” you say sternly.

You’re standing in front of the tiniest airplane you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s thin and short and you didn’t trust it one bit.

“I thought we were taking a regular plane.” you say, looking at him.

“This is a plane, darling. A jet actually.”

“A death machine.” states Roger, walking past you two and up the stairs of the jet.

“I hate flying, let alone on a plane this small.” you whine.

“Well like I said, we’re rock-”

“Rockstars. I get it.” you say, finishing his sentence.

He smiles to you and begins walking towards the plane. You follow behind him as you walk up the stairs and enter inside. It was tiny. A lady dressed in a white dress and her hair pinned up greets you with a warm smile.

“Would you like me to take your coat?” she asks sweetly.

You smile and thank her as you shrug it off and she takes it. You look around and watch as all of the boys admire the features of the inside. They go through the mini bar and mess around with everything they could touch. You shakily make your way to a two person seat and look out the window. A man who you assume is the pilot walks out of the cockpit and smiles to you all.

“Are we all ready?” he asks.

Suddenly, you hear a shout and look towards the opening of the plane. A man rushes up the steps all out of breath and holds up a hand.

“Sorry I’m late. Nobody bothered to tell me about the time change.” he says, looking at Fred.

Freddie just smiles and walks up to you.

“Y/n, this is our lawyer Miami. Miami, this is the most amazing human I know, y/n.”

You blush at his compliment as Miami reaches his hand out for you to shake.

“Miami?” you ask, confused at such an odd name.

He playfully rolls his eyes which makes the boys all laugh.

“Don’t ask.” he murmurs.  

Everyone takes their seats as someone sits beside you. You turn thinking it would be Fred, but it’s not. It’s Roger. You’re a bit surprised as you turn around to spot Fred watching you. He shrugs confused as he sits next to John. Roger smiles to you and you return one. You look forward and make sure your seat belt is buckled. The intercom pops on and the pilot speaks.

“Our flight is about to take off, so please make sure you’re seated and buckled in just like how the stewardess showed you. Our destination from London to Tokyo, Japan will be approximately eleven hours and forty minutes. I’ll let you all know when it’s safe to unbuckle and roam around. Have a good flight.”

You look to Roger quickly and your face falls.

“Japan!?” you ask.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. You look behind at Fred as he notices your nervous expression.

“Japan!?” you ask again even louder.

He awkwardly smiles and raises his shoulders a bit.

“Surprise?”

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[somethingsimilartosnow]

back on my bullshit

hello tumblr

wow my online diary coming to a full circle here! Haven’t posted on this page since maybe I was ... 20? Well, hello, here I am, now 24, and life has HAPPENED. I just am so in need of a place to write down my thoughts, my feelings, my life happenings, so it’s not just all scrambled up in my head to spew at my therapist every other Tuesday. So therefore, we turn to the beautiful world of tumblr and my ~secret blog~. I once thought this was so edgy and risky and what if anyone found this (even though I wanted everyone to find it at one point technically) and now I just need a table to vomit my emotions all over!

Anywho - today I’m here to talk about, not Tyler, not Rob (DEFINITELY not Rob, but maybe I will write all about him when I’m ready to, just for my record keeping), but a man named Dillon. Now I met Dillon about 2/2.5 weeks ago on a dating app (gotta love hinge lol - yes past self, you did have to resort to online dating for a time at least!!! will keep ya updated as to how THAT goes) and we met up at Crooked Can on a beautiful, sweaty summer evening. 

Now I should preface - the harmonious timing of everything falling into place whence meeting Dillon is just uncanny. We had exchanged some quick back and forth messages via this ‘app’ and he said he’d be back from Boston in about a week, and he’d text me when he returned to set up a time to meet. Pretty forward considering we had pretty much only talked about pineapple definitely belonging on pizza how he didn’t understand what I do for work. So I thought ‘uh ok!’ and didn’t stress. At this time, I was still so hung up on ROB (stupid! rob!) that I didn’t really think about Dillon much. Then occured That Fateful Night(TM) with Rob, at the Guest House, with a Hummingbird (this is my play on the game Clue! It’s funny - future me will think I’m a smug comedic genius). INSERT STORY ABOUT THAT FATEFUL NIGHT HERE - coming in a post soon maybe idk lol. OKAY ANYWAYS. Saturday morning, I woke up, went to Star Wars land - I have a cool job - and messaged Rob, being mature and wanting to talk things through. Several housed passed, no response, several more hours, no response, and next thing I knew it was Sunday morning and I had never heard from him. My heart clenched into a writhing ball of stress anxiety over the unknown - what did this man now think of me? What did I do wrong? What’s wrong with me? No, no, no - WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIM? But you know who I did receive a message from that same Saturday? You guessed it - Dillon. 

Yes, this is still a story about Dillon and not about Rob, that’s where we pick up at the Crooked Can the following Thursday evening.

Having pretty much laid my anxieties about Rob aside, I was preparing to unfriend, unfollow, and detach myself from him that coming weekend. In the mean time, I primped and puffed myself to go meet this man, who I knew virtually nothing about except that he worked in marketing. I made myself a drink, drove to the bar, and 4 hours later, was fairly surprised. ‘Not usually the type of guy I go for, but very nice and obviously a good person,’ I thought to myself. In reality, I couldn’t believe I had gone on a second successful first date in a matter of months! Me! A dating girl! What is going on! So we exchanged some pleasantries as we walked to our cars, he hugged me and we parted ways. 

Cut to about a week later, we both are looking forward to seeing eachother again and decide to grab some food, head to a rooftop bar, and just hang out. It’s easy with Dillon. I don’t stand waiting for him and wonder if he’ll like me that time or if he will freakout and want to leave. I don’t have heart-writhing-and-wrenching anxiety leading up to seeing him. It’s simply fun and exciting. (OMG HES SO CUTE TOO AND LIKE STRONG??? HE HAS MUSCLES??? I am HARDLY ATHLETIC so idk what is happening!!!!!!) So here we are back in downtown Winter Garden, munching away chatting eachother’s ears off, and just having a good ol’ time. He was suggesting I come running with him and his close friend/almost roommate that weekend (lol um no? no, running with a cute athletic boy is a recipe for embarrassment - and I already just naturally embarrass myself anyways so lets not put myself in a situation to force even more of that um thanks byeyeyye). I was busy that day luckily, but I invited him to come and see a 90′s cover band with my work friends and I at the House of Blues - next day. A little bold to suggest he’d want to see me two nights in a row, and I suppose even more bold just throwing it out there that I’d want to see him two nights in a row. I mean, we’ve only known eachother for a week, let’s not be crazy! He says ‘you know, I’m watching the UFC fight with my friend,’ and my heart softens a little and I understand he’s busy, has his own life, etc. etc. Then he says, ‘But let me see if he’d want to do that instead.’

CUT TO - INT. HOUSE OF BLUES BALCONY.

We’re dancing! We’re vibing! And we’re having such a great time! He is kind and sweet, he’s holding my hand and has his hand on my back and everything is beautiful. I have my left hand on his right shoulder, and my chin is resting on top of my hand. He says something snappy looking right at my eyes, and I’m looking at his and he quickly glances at my lips.

God, I love kissing. I love it almost more than any other physical thing. I love learning how other people kiss, I love that scratchy feeling of a man’s face at the end of the day all prickly against my skin. I love feeling their jaw and their tongue and their body against mine. I love the tension of it - what happens next? How far do we go tonight? How much can I make you want me? All of this relates to later so please consider this a footnote (1).

House of Blues is great - and I can tell I’m going to see him again. As we’re walking to get our uber, I say to him something silly about the stars and the universe and everything in life coming together and “intersecting” I say.

“Intersecting?” He repeats.

“Intersecting.”

“Intersexing? Rachael!” 

I curl my lower lip over my teeth and say, “That...is NOT what I said.” Boldly, I decide to say to him, “You have something on the mind, Dillon?”

He giggles and takes a pause, “Oh I’ve got a lot on my mind. Most of them are about you, some of them aren’t.” The tension hangs in the air like a bioluminescent force stringing us together as we’re walking in front of the group. “Mainly how you didn’t take me to Star Wars!” He exclaims, cutting the tension with a knife, and we’re back where we started.

So that’s Saturday, we kiss goodnight and he drives him and his friend home. And here’s the good news, I do hear from him again.

Not being able to drink beer, as I inevitably get sick every single time I consume it for some godforsaken reason!, I tell him he must come to my house, retrieve the drink, and help me clear out my fridge. (holy crap this post is long, sorry future self, especially if it all goes south after i post this lol yikes crispies) So here we are again, on a Thursday evening, almost exactly two weeks from the day we first met (actually, exactly two weeks) and I am yet again primping and puffing myself to see him. This is yesterday btw!!!

I couldn’t believe how far I had moved from Rob - completely cutting him out and him doing the same to me caused incredible healing for my heart. I have to tread lightly though, because I now know how I react to things in relationships and how strongly they can affect me. That’s why I have my intuition, though. She guides me through all of the struggles in my life. Maybe it’s the holy spirit. Can’t confirm - will do more research and get back to you.

He arrives, and we eat dinner. Well, I really hardly eat anything because I’m talking so much or so intently listening to him talk that I essentially forgot the plate of food was right in front of me. He offers to do the dishes - which is very kind. I refuse, though, and vow to myself that I must do them tomorrow. I should probably also note that I had two drinks prior to him coming because I wanted to be loose and relaxed and have fun! In my own home. We’re hoping this doesn’t tumble out of control. Hahaha! Anyways!!!

First and foremost following dinner, he teaches me how to bat, weird. But funny, I hit out of the park and we high five and settle on the couch. We ramble and go on and on about the cars we drive, or the work we do, or the music we listen to. He loves Mumford and Sons, and he puts on the Lumineers as the score to our conversation. We watch some silly comedy shows that we tell eachother about, and I am giggle central (three drinks in at this point I guess?). I goto the restroom, and decide there while staring into my bathroom mirror, I have to ask him about the dating world and what he does and why he does it.

 Dating is tricky - people are under no obligation to be with you and you alone. And with someone like Dillon, he is so outgoing and extroverted that I could only assume he’s fairly um, unmonogamous? Spelling? He spent 4 years in a bad relationship where the girl ended up as a lesbian at the end of it, so I can only imagine he just wants everything to lay low for a few years in terms of commitment and really tying yourself to someone. 

So I flounce out of the bathroom and plop myself on the couch, my legs twisted up and I’m curled into a ball - which I still am surprised I can do with the size of my legs, but I suppose it makes me feel small in a comforting way. “So, I’m going to ask you a more serious question, and it’s kind of weird and I don’t want you to freak out,” I say.

“Ask away.” (Um this is all conjecture bc I’m a little tipsy at this moment so - not while typing this, I mean at the time I brought this up last night)

Essentially, I asked him (I could never be an author, my tenses are all mixed up) if he dates monogamously, what his vibe is right now with it all, if he is into me I guess?

This is going to get a little more mish mashed and less narrated because I kind of just need to write all of this part down to get it on the table and survey it all. I’ll let you know when we’re getting back to the fun narrated part. 

He said he usually dates around, he can’t really commit to anything right now. His life is very busy and hectic and whatever, but that he is really enjoying hanging out with me. He said “You know, it’s not for like the sex or the attention, it’s to know people and meet people and make connections.” He kept saying, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, I don’t want you to get hurt,” and I kept saying “Okay, listen, I know myself, I know my boundaries, I know where to draw my own lines.” At one point he even said “It’s so sexy how well you know yourself.” THAT GOT MEEEEE. He said the last girl he dated, their 5 year plans really didn’t line up - she wanted to be married expecting children in two years (she was older - 28), and Dillon, being a 24 year old, young, attractive man was obviously not about that! He knew he has to end it because it wasn’t lining up. I said to him that I think it’s perfectly fair for him to date around, it’s perfectly fine for him to say all of this, and I didn’t say this, but I really was not at all surprised that he said any of this. Like I said, it’s fitting with who he is and his character. I guess I get nervous that he kept saying “I don’t want to hurt you,” or “I don’t want you to get hurt.” As though he feels he will inevitably do so or? Unsure. That’s what Rob kept saying on That Fateful Night(TM), which is why I feel a little triggered by it I guess. So the next question I asked, and I prefaced with “Just because I’m curious, and I want to know where you’re at, are you currently seeing anyone else?” He took a pause. “No, I’m not right now. I don’t know, when I met you something just clicked.” My heart fluttered. “You’re very different than the type of girls I usually date, but I like that.” I reassured him - you are no arrogant artsy jerk who’s going to just up and ghost me - so I also am in the same boat. I said to him that that’s kind of the beauty of it, and meeting new people that are so different than you and connecting with them is so wonderful. He said that his friend said something like “Wow, so you’re seeing this girl two nights in a row?” and he kind of was like “Uh, oh yeah I guess so!” kind of insinuating that there’s something special and different happening here. He said, “I’m enjoying myself, you’re enjoying yourself, obviously this is going well, let’s just take it slow.” I agreed, but uhhh you know. I’m trying to make out with him a little obviously and so somehow it got brought up, and I said, “I mean, we can just have fun, make out a little, right?” And he smiled, “Yeah, we can do that.”

Ok and I think this is where I’m going to try and be narrative again! Dang, am I a novelist chica?

I leaned in and kissed him, his scratchy face pressing into mine. It’s slow and intimate at first - and we fully know what we’re getting into. His mouth is minty and refreshing (almost like...he ALSO was wanting to makeout....hmmmmmmm.....) and he’s kissing me so wonderfully and I love the way his lips feel against mine. My right leg gently slides over his lap and his arms are wrapping around my waist and I go up. His hands move over my belt loops and around my hips and to my stomach, and mine are holding his jaw to mine and I don’t want him to ever let go. We look at each other and he’s smiling at me. I bite my lower lip. And then he says THE MOST DIRECT THING A MAN HAS MAYBE EVER SAID TO ME “I do want to have sex with you...” OH MY GOD?! “Ok, so what are we going to do?” I respond. He kisses me again, “We’re going to wait. I’m going to see you again.” “Okay,” I say and lean in and start kissing him again. I may at one point have said “I want to rip all of your clothes off,” but uhhhh we’ll deal with that another time hehe. I pull back and look at him, and startled he yells, “WOO okay time to go before anything else happens!” I get off of him and he puts his arm over his head, his eyes large and shocked. Quickly, he stands up, adjusts his shirt, pushes his hair back and says (again OH MY GOD) “Gonna walk downstairs with a boner!” OH MY GOD?!!! 

“Sorry...” I say, obviously not sorry, obviously very satisfied with myself. “Okay, I’ve gotta go, I will see you. I need to leave now.”

We kiss goodbye, and then I holler at him down the stairs to come grab the beer his friend left at my place. He comes up and takes it, leans in and kisses me again, and down the stairs he goes.

And that’s it. That’s where we are now. Here I am this morning, letting the Lumineers serenade my creative work flow as I try to calm myself down from the um, excitement of last night. I need to be careful, and I need to protect myself. I am saying I can protect myself and I need to make sure that’s true. I’m not going to stop living my life the way I always do. Tonight, I’m seeing Erin, tomorrow, I’m getting brunch with my girlfriends and then going to game night at Kayla’s apartment, and Sunday, I’m going to church. This is my life and he is a fun addition that I’m so excited about. Oh my god!

[caesurabywriting]

do you have a drabble or headcanon of your otp: fooling the world & each other becoming engaged? pretty please. c: i'm curious.

because you said please + i’ll take any excuse to talk about them, i’m obligated to answer this. honestly i have way too many headcanons but i’m going to try and be concise and coherent here (+ huge apologies for how long this is anyway, but these two are hella complicated and i’m way too Extra for their angst)headcanons:

- they only get engaged because she claims she’s pregnant (spoiler alert: she’s not, but she’s relying on the fact that she can get pregnant soon after/in a close enough window for it to be true) - she uses that excuse to get his attention bc he seemed to be getting more and more distant and passive re: their relationship and she wanted to have a way to lock him down even if she has to heavily manipulate the situation to get her way. she’s like a milder form of amy dunne.- she’s also the poster child for abandonment and trust issues because her parents were awful, but it’s what brought them ~together~ in the first place. his ex-gf, viv, was her best friend. they all lived together in NYC, along w tom’s own bestie, for six years ( which is what #manhattan memoirs is about ) before viv one day abruptly moved out without an explanation, dropping contact with them both, abandoning their perfect unit of four. up until that point tom and tessa barely tolerated each other + had an ongoing banter thing going on. she had a short fuse and he loved to light it at any chance he got. antagonizing her was his favorite hobby. later on, they proceeded to ‘bond’ over angry and angsty hate sex to avoid being sad over her viv’s departure. but then feelings were caught. oops. anyways…- she’s a ~first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby~ kind of person, and he knows this. having a baby without being married first would be a huge deal breaker for her. if he declined stepping up to ask her to marry him there would be no baby and she’d tell him to leave (in theory, but between you and me i don’t think she could and would have come up with something more dramatic to get his undying attention)- it was very non romantic and went down more like a business deal discussion. she presented a serious ultimatum that needed addressing. she sprung it on him. essentially, pre-proposing his proposal. there was no ring or down-on-one-knee business. it was very much a highly staked version of ‘should i stay or should i go?’- she went out by herself after the ‘proposal’ and chose her own ring and everything. anything he chose would have been complained about and returned- he wanted/wants to propose again in a more romantic and thoughtful way because even though he’s pretty neutral about marriage, he sees it’s important to her and she deserves the best of things. alas, time kept ticking by and it seemed like he’d lost his shot, so he kept such plans to himself and lets her resent him a little extra for his apparent lack of involvement, as usual.i do not have a full drabble composed ( yet - but i probably will one day even though it will ruin my life ), but i do have various fragmented flashback/extracts from actual replies/past threads that may or may not make sense out of context but, regardless, i’ve collected them below if you’re interested on a glimpse of things somewhat engagement-related:

1. Their tables had done more than shift, they had been flipped and spun out. The undeniable truth tightly wrapped around his reality, pinning him transfixed in place. For better or for worse, those two lines had seen Tom’s uncontrolled fishtailing hitched onto a finite track. A duo of one dimensional pink had the power to change everything. Tom blinked over dilated pupils, his sentimental conscience sucker punched by a one-two hit of remorse and disquietude. It was all still etched into him like the grooves of a record, designed to be played on repeat at his masochistic leisure — Tessa presenting herself empty handed after already discarding the evidence, bearing the news with clutched hands and a penetrating gaze. Her voice, poised and decisively urgent: ’Stay.’ They were standing in the same room for the first time in three days. He’d avoided the sheen of her dark hair for the floorboards, ‘That’s not all you’re asking.’ His timbre noticeably wavered in comparison to hers. Like a whip, Tessa’s voice cut across with a warning flatline: ‘No. It’s what we are.’ Her eyes, calculating, soften magnanimously the moment he looks up, ‘You know your answer, don’t you, Thomas?’ 2. Her reveal had been a surprise. Admittedly, he was the only one to blame for that belief, his sense of awareness not particularly careful nor attentive during the time between an office shift ending and them falling from a fight into a bed together. In all it’s ‘A one time thing. We’re not doing this again,’ ( gradually switched out for ‘make it a one more time thing,’ ) glory. What had only ever been meant to be a secondary arrangement, intended to fill space, to pass time. The most beneficial way to end a combative argument. It was an exhausting interlude that matched the tone of his routine, wearing him down until he was nothing but fine grains. He had been confused, torn, and collectable.3. No celebratory graduation ceremony marked their progression as they impassively watched their shared temperature rise from ‘fling’ to ‘fiancé’, endlessly fluctuating between offensively heated and dishearteningly tepid throughout. Their anniversaries as somber as the sticker announcing it on the square of calendar. That catalyzing moment of history turned away from very deliberately. There were no sweet heart-eyed how did you two meet narratives to supply. Just Mr. Type-B and Ms. Type-A, two heartbroken kids susceptible to distraction. Amusing themselves until it became real. Maybe it did. Or maybe it was harmless and it was pure paranoia making it seem like a neon sign blinked above his head in an infinite line of alarmed exclamation marks.4. Wreckage was imminent no matter which way the pieces aligned. Home ( now ) was sleeplessly staring at a ceiling, deliberating in the dark and into the glow of the morning. Most of all, an internal pleading line of looped thought: Oh, God, let today be a normal day. Let him be normally nervous, unhesitating, and spontaneously happy. Let him not squint as Tessa walked away, the disheveled shadow of dark hair thrown down her back strongly evoking of another’s in poor lighting. Familiar shades of umber and taupe clashing with the lesser known notes of sangria and mint on her breath, the scent of rose in her hair. Tessa, an intended sojourn; a breathing space. An operating lightbulb to illuminate the dreary darkness of a vicissitude neither wanted to admit they were blind in trying to navigate. No one was ever prepared for a demotion into the limited edition status of another’s life when, viewed in the other direction, they’d presumably been branded essential. But it had happened, and Tessa was the only tangible reason not to go too far off an precipice that led to no tomorrow. Pulling at hands smudged with paint instead of cigarette ash in a desperate attempt at capsizing the insurmountable detritus of past imprints drifting throughout his system. Taking the brunt of all frustration, tremor, and every emotion banned from expression. Aggressively sidelining the only language he wanted to feel, touch, and listen to. Relearning a different one. Everything that had been absentminded and easy now requiring vigilance and humorless behavior. Yet as exhausting as all her short tempered glares and cavilling was, it had also been her strict accountability and interception between him and acts of stupidity that kept him together.5. She was a person to whom his surrendering murmur of ‘I love you’ often had the bitter aftertaste of something over-steeped. His palliative precursor, a promising commitment not to be cowardly, invitingly interchangeable with other prosperous phrases of three: I am here. I am staying. We are family. The woman who’d engaged in an unrequested initiative, yanking the dusty rug out from beneath their at-risk stale situation and pulling them into dazzling sunlight. He couldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to. He was prepared to try — faking it until it was true — just as he shouldered everything else. Maybe saying yes to Tessa, and in turn something that scared him, had been the gateway drug.6. There were many shouldn’t-ridden clauses, both spoken and not, between the two of them. Tessa and Thomas. One of the very first in-depth conversations they’d had ended with a shouldn’t. The first time he hadn’t felt the need to crack a prolonged, tensely held, silence with something deprecating. Instead, tentatively entering the humid air, a plea and a concern all in one: We shouldn’t do this, it’s too soon. Then, only two days later: we shouldn’t stop, I can’t do this alone. And the rest fell into natural order, the reoccurring theme of expectations fallen short: He shouldn’t come home so late. She shouldn’t have to ask twice. We shouldn’t talk about that. The clarity of her voice in his head was almost identical to a certain other someone’s. A different inflection, a different time — but just the same; a damning memory able to be plucked from the recesses of his mind at the most inconvenient of moments. Tessa’s censorious commentary was never far behind. He’d been consumed by it in slowly advancing increments for nearly ten years. In the beginning, a day-to-day routine of merely pretending he was listening to her as he dotingly observed the accompanying figure that she’d arrived with. More recently, her unimpressed narration wove through the fabric of any of the romantic or couple-y things they tried to do. Tom, begrudgingly following her into the overcrowded abyss of whatever public outing she’d pre-arranged, always far too absentminded, staying alert for all the wrong reasons. Looking down to check on even the slightest vibration of his phone — a problem? A meeting? A respite? — whilst completely avoiding having to provide any input on Tessa’s newly favorite subject ( it rhymed with bedding ). Their verbal tennis matches, a ceaseless tit-for-tat game of passive aggression, could run steady laps around everything else they did. It was almost an entity of it’s own. There was Tom, there was Tessa, and there was that low pressure that hung in the atmosphere whenever they entered into the same room as if someone had made tasteless a joke at a funeral. The one beam of hope through it all was the fact that, admitted to or not, they knew each other too well. Despite what they withheld from one another — even though, if presented the same card drawn during a Rorschach Test she’d see the shape of a book where he’d see a pint of beer — they could never return to being strangers. Getting to know her had been a muffled process, a slowly sinking feeling. The diluting of a strongly flavored concentrate with hot water. Three parts scathing to one part cordial. Mild enough to eventually be widely palatable as opposed to the too-potent original double dose; the sort of thing that appealed to rush-seeking junkies and hyperactive children and those who fell somewhere in between.