#sorry i know no one here cares about it but the latest chapter (or like the past 7 chapters or so aklsdjghsflkhjk) has killed me dead

[pkmn-redirect]

-Interlude 2-

In which Chandelure takes care of her person's people~

First | Previous | Next | Latest

Index

(Detail shots and info regarding the next few updates under the cut )

(For a better look at the picture on the Polaroid- check out this post on my art blog)

The text on the letter reads:

"Emmet-

I am sorry to report that we at the International Police still have no word on the whereabouts of your brother.

Rest assured we are researching all available avenues, but please know resources are stretched thin. There have been numerous such disappearances over the past few months. Ingo's case is certainly the highest profile, but is only one of many.

We will keep you appraised of all updates as we can, but please bear in mind that this is an ongoing investigation and as such there will be limited on what information we can provide and when. I'm sure you understand.

In the meantime, we encourage you to try to continue your life as normally as possible, and please refrain from any further independent investigation of your own. We commend your enthusiasm, but please understand that you many inadvertently damage important evidence without even knowing it.

Sincerely yours,

Agent Looker"

Last update for a little while so I can focus on Chapter 3. The Ask Box will be open for the next week or so to see about having a Q&A session on one of the normal update days. If there's no questions then I guess we'll be doing something different lol- but there will be updates here in the feed on our regular days for sure- just nothing terribly significant until Chapter 3 kicks off in earnest.

Thank you all so much for sticking with this so far! It's incredible to see how many of you there are now, and just knowing other folks like reading my self indulgent comic nonsense is just mind-blowing! Take care and see you next update!

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter One: One Hell of a Reunion

Summary: Sebastian comes across someone he hadn't seen in centuries.

            “Remind me again why we’re at some silly Baroness’s funeral?” muttered Ciel tersely once they finally made it to the reception.

            “Young Master, the Baroness Alma Ellington was a contributor to Funtom enterprises for many years,” said Sebastian. “It couldn’t go said by the nobility that the Phantomhives didn’t attend the funeral of such a generous woman.” He smirked.

            Ciel tsked. “At least it’s almost over.”

            “Yes, Young Ma—” Sebastian straightened, and his eyes narrowed.

            Ciel looked up at his butler. Clearly, something was wrong. “What is it, Sebastian?”

            “There’s another demon here,” said Sebastian quietly, gazing around the room.

            “Another demon?” Ciel furrowed his brow. He’d never encountered another demon or had seen Sebastian around another of his kind.

            “Yes.” Sebastian’s eyes were dark. “We’ll excuse ourselves as soon as acceptable.”

            “What, you’re not popular with others of your kind?” Ciel smirked, eager to tease Sebastian.

            His butler merely smiled. “We are solitary creatures, Young Master. It is not in our nature to remain close. Besides, we’re not fond of one another, even in our best moments.”

            Ciel looked around the room, trying to determine who the demon could be, but with only Sebastian to go on, he wasn’t sure who to look at. He sighed in annoyance at not getting a choice to see Sebastian out of his element. “Very well. Let’s excuse ourselves.”

            Sebastian bowed slightly. “We’ll let the maid in charge know we are departing.”

            The pair crossed to the entrance of the reception hall where the maid was taking the cards left to the heir of the estate with condolences. They nodded smoothly with a gracious smile as each person left. As Ciel and Sebastian approached, though, Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. This was the demon he had sensed.

            “Young Master, this is it,” murmured Sebastian, slowly drifting closer to Ciel in case the demon tried to grab for his soul.

            “The—?” asked Ciel.

            Sebastian nodded darkly. “Yes.” He gazed at the demon as they thanked the latest couple for attending before turning to Ciel and Sebastian.

            Their eyes met.

            Sebastian’s brow furrowed, and the other demon’s did the same. They both regarded each other with a bit of…familiarity. Ciel looked between them cautiously.

            “Oh,” said the newer demon, straightening.

            “Ah,” said Sebastian, his dark expression relaxing.

            Ciel deadpanned, and an irk mark appeared on his forehead. “Would you care to explain what I’m missing, Sebastian?”

            “I know them, my Lord,” said Sebastian. His eyes passed over the demon again, as did theirs, as they both gauged the latest appearance the other took on.

            “I thought you said you didn’t like others of your kind,” said Ciel.

            “They are the only tolerable being of my kind,” replied Sebastian with a nod to the maid.

            The demon smiled. “Why, thank you. I think the same of you.”

            “I am superior to most,” said Sebastian with a smirk.

            “And being tolerable made you drop your guard? Sorry excuse…” muttered Ciel, unimpressed with Sebastian’s pride.

            “They are the only demon that has any…slight honor, Young Master,” said Sebastian. “They will not try anything against me.”

            “And I just finished a…job contract, so I’m well fed,” said the demon with a catlike smirk.

            “Ah, the Baroness?” asked Sebastian.

            The demon smiled sharply. “She needed a little help with her husband.”

            “Ah, yes, the one who died in the unfortunate accident,” said Sebastian with a sly smirk.

            “Actually, he had been about to gamble away the fortune he’d gotten when marrying the dearly departed Baroness. She got quite lucky, in a way,” said the demon, smirking.

            “Ah, indeed,” said Sebastian with a knowing look.

            “And this is your latest contract?” asked the demon, smiling at Ciel.

            “Earl Phantomhive,” said Ciel curtly.

            “Please to meet you, my Lord,” said the demon with a nod. They understood why their fellow had taken him as a contract. His soul radiated purity. However, they had just fed and had no need for another soul for a long time, plus this was their old acquaintance making the contract, they couldn’t interrupt that.

            “I assume you’ll be looking for new employment, then?” questioned Sebastian.

            “Yes, just tying up some ends here and there,” said the demon. “Though I am not hungry and am loath to return…home, so who knows what I will do.”

            Sebastian was silent for a moment before looking at Ciel. “My Lord, I believe the manor is in need of further staffing.”

            “Isn’t four enough with you there?” questioned Ciel, raising an eyebrow.

            “Unfortunately, my colleagues are less than adequate at times,” said Sebastian.

            “Are you suggesting I offer another of your kind a job?” asked Ciel. He wasn’t sure whether to think Sebastian was losing his mind after being so territorial or to actually take him seriously.

            “There is very little good help these days,” lamented Sebastian. Plus, he trusted this one to the extent demons could trust one another. They were fed and had proven time and time again to respect his status as a demon, so he had no reason to worry after them stealing his soul. (And it had been a while since they had seen one another, not that it played into Sebastian’s decision making. That would be flawed reasoning for a butler such as him).

            Ciel shrugged. “What the hell? I already have one of you.”

            The demon brightened. “This does seem like a fun way to pass the time.”

            Ciel nearly deadpanned again. And I thought Sebastian was strange.

            The demon turned to Sebastian and held out their gloved hand to shake. “I look forward to working with you again, Mr…?”

            “My master calls me ‘Sebastian,’ ” said Sebastian, shaking their hand.

            “Sebastian…” repeated the demon thoughtfully. Their nose twitched, catlike. “There have been worse.”

            Sebastian scoffed quietly. “And you?”

            “The Baroness called me ‘(Y/N) Noir.’ I believe I will continue to use the name,” said (Y/N). They took a step back and smiled. “Now, Sebastian, my Lord, I must finish my service to the Baroness. I will head to your estate within a day.” (Y/N) bowed to Ciel, nodded to Sebastian, and turned to the other guests.

            “Sebastian,” said Ciel as they left the reception hall.

            “My Lord?” asked Sebastian.

            “How do you know this demon?” asked Ciel.

            “My Lord, if you are wondering about their ability, they are capable and, even if not trustworthy since they are one of my kind, reliable,” said Sebastian. He gave a small false smile. “If you are concerned for your safety or your revenge, there is no reason. (Y/N)—” He let the new name roll of his tongue “—will assist with our endeavors. Of course, that is until they take their own contract, but then they will merely part ways with us.”

            Ciel gave a look at Sebastian. “If I wanted references, I would have asked for them. I asked you how you know them. Don’t evade my questions.”

            “Very well, my Lord,” said Sebastian, giving a slight bow before guiding Ciel into the carriage and sitting across from him. “I taught (Y/N).”

            Ciel raised an eyebrow. “Taught them? Demons teach one another?”

            “Occasionally, yes,” said Sebastian. He smirked. “I taught (Y/N) well, and so they give me…more respect than demons typically give one another. None of our encounters have ever been uncivil.”

            “That explains why they acted like you, charming everyone and being the perfect servant,” muttered Ciel. “Are you two the same type of demon or something?”

            “No, Young Master,” said Sebastian. He smirked. “I am a raven. They are a cat. We are completely different.”

            Ciel groaned. “Of course, they’re a cat. You love cats.”

            “I can assure you, Young Master, I adore cats, but my feelings towards (Y/N) are very different,” said Sebastian.

            However, with Ciel’s order to never lie to him, Sebastian found himself speaking in quite the roundabout fashion.

l

            Sebastian opened the door and smiled pleasantly as he found (Y/N), maid outfit pressed carefully, standing beside a single bag outfit the doors of the Phantomhive Estate.

            “Right on schedule,” said Sebastian. “An excellent start to the job.”

            (Y/N) had a catlike smile as they looked back at him, still as fresh and unafraid as they had been a millennia ago. “I was taught to be perfect at any job I took.” A mischievous light glinted in their eyes. “And I don’t fail my teacher.”

            “No, you do not,” said Sebastian with a smirk. He lifted (Y/N)’s bag. “Come, I’ll escort you to your quarters. Then, I shall show you what it means to be a Phantomhive servant.”

            (Y/N) nodded as they walked through the silent halls to the servant’s quarters.

            “This will be your room,” said Sebastian, opening the door and placing the luggage on the bed.

            (Y/N) looked around and nodded. “Very well.”

            Sebastian brandished a maid’s uniform from behind him, pulling it from nowhere with the skills only a demon could possess. “This will be your new uniform for the Phantomhive Estate. As you have gotten used to performing as a maid for the Baroness, I assume you will continue such a role. If not, I will have a manservant’s uniform prepared momentarily.”

            “The maid uniform will do,” said (Y/N), smiling and taking it.

            Sebastian nodded and stepped back out the door. “I will give you a moment to change.”

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N). They glanced up at Sebastian as he closed the door. “And Sebastian…”

            He looked at them, and their eyes, sharp with the eyeliner creating a catlike shape, met his.

            “It’s good to see you. It’s been far too long.” A smile appeared on (Y/N)’s lips as the door closed.

            Sebastian sighed. A little too bright for a demon. He supposed it took all types. Although, of course, he had put up with them for so long. He supposed it wasn’t too bad.

            And they were right. It had been far too long.

            Not that he’d noticed it.

            Not at all.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

[general-cyno]

since I've rambled quite a bit on zoro's side of things in some of my zolu posts, I wanted to give luffy a try too! though perhaps overall subtler than zoro's grand gestures throughout the manga, there's no doubt to me that luffy cares for him just as much and his relationship with zoro is one of the most important he has (without intending to downplay others btw), both as individuals and crew, so let's goooo.

(warning: it's going to be long. sorry. also spoilers for the manga, as usual.)

albeit luffy and zoro's journey as a crew starts in the marine base where they met, I've mentioned here before that their childhood experiences, the way they sort of parallel each other's, also play a big role in their personalities and understanding of one another later on. the specifics are different, sure, but both were acquainted with struggle since they were young. zoro had already lost his parents by the time he was 8 and dragon left a baby luffy in garp's care, which... involved some questionable (dangerous) caretaking choices in order to make luffy "stronger". eventually, zoro would become a student in the isshin dojo, interact with koushiro and kozaburo, and start his rivalry/friendship with kuina just like luffy would later meet folks like makino, shanks and his crew whom he'd be inspired by, then dadan, ace and sabo, who'd become his family.

although we don't know yet what luffy's particular dream is, it's one he's had since young and that he mentioned to his brothers. similarly, as a kid, zoro wanted to become the world's greatest swordsman too, which he told kuina about and promised to strive for along with her. still, it's not until they lose sabo and kuina respectively that their dreams are accompanied by the necessity to become stronger for other people's sake. this is a specific sort of grief they share and are motivated by. and in luffy's case, his vow to become stronger is so he can prevent the further loss of those he loves.

(I'll get back to this, because it's important!)

fastforward to years later and we have a luffy that's started his journey to become the pirate king and achieve his dream. the insane thing about zoro's recruitment is that it only took hearing about the guy's name and fearsome reputation to have luffy pester koby about meeting him. I've also mentioned here that "fate" seems to be a recurring theme in OP especially in the latest arcs, and especially where luffy and zoro are concerned, seeing as they not only have a bunch of parallels with each other but also with important figures/characters in OP, some of who share or have shared a close relationship among themselves as well - namely, roger and rayleigh.

heck, luffy and zoro's lives are so intertwined you can even see lil zoro training during the ASL flashback chapters, when dragon mentions the dojo providing the revolutionaries with some food (ch 589). it's kinda incredible tbh. even so, when it comes to zoro... he was first and foremost a choice. regardless of how fate has come into play in the story, it was luffy's decision to actively seek him out and rope him into joining his crew, one he made after realizing zoro wasn't just a good guy but that he also had a cool, crazy dream and a determination to make it come true that was similar to luffy's own.

back then, luffy was already punching others (helmeppo) and getting angry on zoro's behalf, taking bullets for him and leaving himself wide open for zoro to protect during their confrontation with morgan. this is pretty much the beginning of his unwavering trust in zoro's strength and his willingness to step in when luffy needs someone to watch over him in turn. this is what their relationship is based on within? hours? of meeting and it's the foundation of the straw hat crew.

he's praising zoro before he's actually taken morgan down and luffy doesn't even look back to check. the amount of trust luffy's placing on zoro off the bat is bonkers and it's literally just the start.

from shells town onwards - well, in spite of how luffy's considered an anchor by shanks in the first chapters of OP because of his inability to swim, I believe the anchor metaphor is actually kinda perfect to describe zoro and his relationship with luffy, more so from luffy's side, even if he doesn't necessarily say this stuff on the pages.

I may be going on a slightly poetic tangent but it works imo. anchor symbolism is pretty popular and you can find all sorts of articles about it online. I read a few out of curiosity and y'know, the anchor as a nautical symbol has supposedly been regarded as one rooted in feelings such as those of stability and safety. you can probably tell where I'm going with this.

in terms of stability, think of OP's arcs and how many of them zoro's been in alongside luffy. they don't always fight side by side strictly speaking, but zoro is a constant - he's usually there to fight the second strongest threat and sometimes protect or lead the others when luffy's otherwise occupied, or he handles things while luffy gets there/recuperates enough to battle again. for the most part, zoro's also there in a bunch of the crewmate-rescuing arcs and he's even the one to directly liberate brook's shadow in thriller bark. there's only two major instances in which luffy and zoro (+ the crew) get separated for a considerable amount of time, one of them unwillingly and the other by choice: sabaody and zou/whole cake island. ig you could count baratie/arlong park too, but I don't think as much time passed in between one and the other compared to zou/WCI and the reunion in wano.

something that really got me even though it was tinted by a comedic feel, is the fact that bon-chan turned into zoro out of all straw hats back at impel down when luffy was trying to rescue ace and how happy he was at the prospect of having zoro there to aid him. no matter how the adaptation differs from the manga, I couldn't help but think of opla luffy's I need you speech too. would he have been as happy to see any other members of the crew? likely so! still, zoro's definitely someone luffy particularly looks forward to having by his side when things get tough.

irl, anchors are generally used to secure a vessel and prevent it from drifting. sounds a little familiar, I'd say.

it's not as though zoro's the only character in OP who's "guided" luffy but there are moments when he does ground his captain in a manner other characters can't at the time, and my favorite part of it is how seriously luffy takes zoro's words/advice whenever it happens. water 7 and enies lobby are perhaps the best examples of this, as it comes up in the context of luffy's fight with usopp and robin's supposed betrayal.

this is a really, really good moment imo. once luffy slows down to consider what zoro's saying, you can see he understands the importance of it. plus, luffy knows zoro's not someone who'd just leave a friend behind (he's fought to bring some of them back at this point, with luffy and the rest of the crew) and if anything, his "so the fact that he left our crew means nothing to you?!" outburst proves he's as upset as all of them about usopp's choice.

that said, you can tell how much luffy values and respect zoro's imput simply by the way he cries his soul out when usopp finally apologizes and asks to come back. luffy wears his heart on his sleeve and adores his friends, doesn't want to lose them ever, so reining all those feelings in to stay true to his position as the captain that zoro has placed his faith and loyalty in? amazing. and consider it from another angle: if he had ignored zoro, luffy would've lost him too. he certainly doesn't want that either or this would've gone differently.

this kinda thing happens also post timeskip, with zoro reminding luffy to get his shit together at punk hazard, bringing up the fact that they can't just ignore the threat kaido poses in zou to have the entire crew going after sanji, or when they're facing kaido and big mom in wano. zoro's someone luffy counts on to keep him steady and afloat, and this part of their relationship is something that was portrayed (again) nicely in the live action. in ep 6, it's zoro who manages to reassure luffy of his position as the captain and that he's done nothing wrong, that their crew isn't falling apart, because if luffy needs him then zoro vows to stand by his side til the very end. (they're insane).

in addition, their core similarities, understanding of each other and luffy's (almost unbelievable) faith/trust in zoro is what allows him to depend on zoro, specifically, when it comes to things like saving smoker in alabasta, not fighting back against bellamy's crew on jaya, or just mentioning the spilled oshiruko as explanation enough for zoro to get why luffy's angry during the onigashima raid, to name a few of examples off the top of my head.

as for the safety aspect of the anchor symbolism... that one speaks for itself I think. I feel like I must mention once more that zoro's not the only character or even the only straw hat to help or protect luffy, but he's fairly insistent and consistent in this aspect compared to others. compiling all the moments in which zoro's stepped in to protect luffy, worried about his well-being or signaled the rest when luffy's truly in danger/has reached his limits would probably break this site's image upload limit lol.

that said, luffy's the same back at zoro just in a bit of a less common manner or in a different way rather - mostly because of his belief in zoro's strength and the lengths he'd go to keep people safe, which includes allies and more so their friends. one could argue depositing that kind of faith in zoro can have its drawbacks (sabaody) or isn't completely fair (like when he goes all, "with you here, how could this happen?!" in skypiea) BUT. my opinion is that trusting zoro any less than that would likely hurt his pride more. so when luffy says stuff like this,

it's not about having unrealistic expectations wrt zoro but more about fully trusting in the man who tearfully swore to him that he'd become the greatest swordsman and never lose again. the one who trusts luffy just as much in turn, called him captain and pirate king first. luffy's seen zoro pull through some impossible situations, so it'd be more unfair to doubt him this way if you ask me.

this is also why I mentioned luffy's childhood vow. if you ever wonder "how important is zoro to luffy?" compare this,

to this:

luffy's past is revealed hundreds of chapters after skypiea. yet in hindsight, it adds so many layers to his relationship with zoro. for someone like luffy, who promised to become strong so that the people he loves wouldn't have to leave him, who would even die as long as it means he won't lose a member of his crew, the fact that he can relax this much when he gets separated from his friends because zoro's with them is... a lot, man. when you remember luffy's lost people close to him or had them leave him (for very understandable reasons, often out of everyone's control), zoro being one of the most stable presences in his life since they met - someone who will help him fight to get their friends back or stay behind to watch over them when they can't all go together, that for zoro to leave he'd have to be pried by force from his side unless they both agree to it for the sake of their journey and crewmates, is likely to be a very comforting fact to luffy. luffy, who's afraid of/hates being alone more than getting hurt.

he doesn't voice it out but allowing zoro to protect him and the people they both care for is giant sign of love and unbeatable trust, where luffy's concerned. although he doesn't know about it, zoro's sacrifice in thriller bark demonstrated why luffy does this without hesitation too. however, it's worth noting that luffy does worry for zoro's own safety whenever he's there to actually witness him being in danger and he knows zoro well enough to tell when said danger is real. it happens during the mihawk duel, when kizaru almost kills zoro in sabaody then as kuma sends him away, for example. he gets angry, desperate and teary in all of these instances. luffy cares so much about him.

lastly yet just as relevant... is that luffy likes zoro, beyond metaphors and all zoro might represent/stand for in the crew. luffy thinks he's cool, that he'll certainly achieve his dream, enjoys teasing and bullying him harmlessly, offered to share his food with him to convince zoro into accompanying them in thriller bark, tried to give an injured zoro an entire barrel of alcohol because luffy knows he loves booze and thought it'd make him feel better, and is generally someone luffy's happy to be with.

I bring up the wano hug a lot but honestly it doesn't get clearer than this. I've seen people try to downplay this moment but hey, context. people that luffy's hugged this way include 1) sabo, the brother luffy believed had been dead for years, 2) hancock who helped him try and rescue ace and 3) jimbei who's helped luffy during some of the most dire moments he's gone through, like impel down, marineford and WCI. for luffy to straight up hug zoro with just as much happiness, eagerness and enthusiasm in a relatively danger-free situation... he likes zoro, there's no better way to put it.

it's not that they can't butt heads sometimes either, but never seriously enough to damage their relationship. as a more recent example, luffy's shown he can put his stubbornness and recklessness aside when zoro's right even if he doesn't like it (ch 1060, about vivi's current situation). and as long as he's there, luffy won't let people interfere in zoro's fights, much less when it involves zoro's dream - like when he held johnny and yosaku back from stepping into zoro's duel with mihawk, even though luffy himself was worried about zoro.

so yeah, zoro might get to be crazier about luffy more often and explicitly but imo, it's an entirely reciprocal thing.

if you got this far, thanks so much for reading!

[runnning-outof-time]

I’ve been sitting on this for a few days wondering if I should request it. For the blurb request if no one else has requested it - soft kisses on both cheeks and tip of the nose for Tommy Shelby.

Thanks for sending this in, Ace! 💕 I’m sorry I sat on it for a few weeks (maybe months at this point 😬) … I’m about a quarter of the way through the latest Birmingham chapter and I needed a break, so I decided to take on this request — I hope you like it! I think it turned out rather cheesy, but who cares…right? 😅

How Much I Love You

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: allusion to suggestive situation, Tommy’s a little mopy in this one, but then again, when isn’t he?

(Y/N) takes the opportunity to tell Tommy what she thinks when she finds him still in bed.

“Is the world going to end?” (Y/N) questioned as she shut the bedroom door behind her and pulled the corners of her robe tighter around her body. She’d got up to check on the baby about an hour ago and thought for sure that Tommy would have trailed out right after; heading to lock himself in his office for the day. To see him still in bed was a surprise.

“Huh?” Tommy questioned her, not making much effort to look in her direction as he kept his hand rested on the pillow behind his head.

“You’re still in bed,” she pointed out as she walked over to him.

“And that’s a crime now?” he raised his eyebrows as he was finally able to look at her.

“For you it might as well be,” she teased him, cracking a grin, one that he didn’t return. “Is something on your mind?” Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as to ask the silent question: ‘what?’. “You’re brooding…I can see it in your face. The only difference is that you’re doing it in here instead of your office,” she pointed out, explaining the reasoning behind her first question. Tommy sighed and looked away from her, his fingers tapping away on his chest; another one of his mannerisms that showed he was consumed by thought. “Scoot over,” she mumbled to him then, not waiting for him to do much before she sat on the side of the bed so that she could be closer to him. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

Tommy sighed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments before glancing over at (Y/N) again. She was waiting expectantly for him to answer her question. “I’m just wondering where we all go next,” he began.

“Go next with what?” (Y/N) asked him to clarify.

“The business…the family…” he trailed off, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb, “they all hate me now.”

“I don’t think they hate you,” she disagreed with his statement.

“I’ve put them in prison, (Y/N),” he didn’t dare dance around the subject, “sure they hate me.”

“They hate what you’ve done,” she suggested another way to look at it, “they may hate you now…they won’t hate you forever.”

“There’s no way you can know that.”

“You’re right.”

“So why bother bringing it up?”

“Because I wanted to get your mind off of it…” (Y/N) slowed their conversation down as she trailed off and took a breath, “I know how you get when your mind gets stuck on something…you become a problem unto yourself, and you cannot go down now…not with the family being where they are,” she tried to speak some sense into him. “Why don’t you go visit them?”

“(Y/N)…” Tommy spoke in a warning tone, showing her how against the idea he was.

“They ask what you’re doing, you know,” she commented, “it almost always comes up when I’m there.”

“They’re probably wondering if I’ve still managed to keep going,” he mumbled, adding in his own thoughts on the matter.

“They may be…” she trailed off, feeling stuck in the arguement at this point. Tommy could argue like a child who wasn’t getting their way, and he wouldn’t quit until he did…it made her nervous for the future arguements she’d inevitably have with their son. “But they still ask about you…you’d probably benefit from going to see them,” she shrugged her shoulders, deciding to see the light in the situation.

“Can we stop talking about this, love?” he asked her, a pleading look present on his face as he dropped his hand onto her thigh and squeezed it gently.

“What do you want to talk about then, hmm?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. She didn’t ask her question in any sort of tone, instead she was curious. “Should we talk about the weather?” she continued, her words making Tommy’s eyebrows furrow.

The confusion became even more apparent when she moved from sitting next to him to straddling his waist, a grin forming on her face as she leaned in closer to him. “What’re you doin’, love?” he questioned her, his hands automatically moving to the sides of her hips to hold her in place.

“I was thinking maybe we could talk about how much…” she paused, her hands moving up to take hold of his jaw. She leaned down even further to brush her lips against his. He tried to follow her, but she was too quick, and his actions made her giggle. “I…” she stopped again, kissing his left cheek, “love…” she kissed his right cheek, “you…” she pressed a kiss to his nose, making him scrunch his face at the unfamiliar feeling, which made her giggle again. She pulled back to smile at him, feeling butteflies erupt in her stomach as his eyes danced across her face. “I love you, Tommy,” she repeated herself, dropping her lips onto his then for a proper kiss.

Tommy took the opportunity, tightening his hold on her as he deepened the kiss. (Y/N) giggled against his lips before she managed to pull away and slide to lay on the bed next to him. “I should go check on the baby again,” she said to him, grinning as she spoke.

“That’s all?” he questioned her, surprise etched into his features.

“Hmm?” she played innocent, her eyebrows raised.

“You can’t do all that and then go check the baby,” he told her.

“Well I have…I’m going to check the baby,” she stuck to her guns, smiling before going to get off of the bed.

“You’re not,” Tommy managed to grab her hand and bring her onto her back once more, “because I’ve now got something to talk to you about.”

A giddy feeling arose in (Y/N)’s stomach as she saw how Tommy was looking at her. She could tell by the smirk on his face that he wasn’t going to be doing much talking. At least she’d managed to get his mind off of things.

———

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

[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.

+

tagslist: @d4rno @ddeonmixx @sloanexx @soilaluna @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @floralsightings @prettiestmark @queereddie @beltzboys2015-blog @valopz @thhriller @lovebynorth @tomorrowseverything @cheesemittens @jasminedragoon @prettyinpunk85 @marysucks-blog @iwillbiteabitch @daddy-din @blacklist07 @amberpanda99 @sciencebros1128 @jklkverr @nini123 @miss-goldenweek @pedropascalfan221 @sagggy @aphrcdites @spacelatinos4life @esstark @tongibatongi @maviee @gimalo135 @spicymochi15 @kittenlittle24

[whatspastisprologue-blr]

Memnoch the Devil gives me some of my favorite Lesmand interactions, even though, as is the case with all the books, I have to keep Assad Zaman's Armand in my mind because he just *is* Armand and so whenever he's described in the book it's honestly jarring to me.

Like, when they first see each other again and Lestat is genuinely happy to see him? And notes that Armand's voice "had no meanness in it at all". And basically calls him hot and then says he's "good to love". And then they hug each other! Willingly!

"We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn't tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn't. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard."

And then Lestat playfully ruffles Armand's hair! Which Armand doesn't mind. In fact, he smiles! And then playfully shoves Lestat back (actually, it hurt him) to show off a little. After which, we get this:

"I can't remember anything bad between us." I said.

"You will," he responded. "And so will I. But what does it matter what we remember?"

"Yes," I said, "we're both still here."

Armand laughs again and kisses Lestat a couple of paragraphs later, seemingly just for fun. And then, in this chapter (this is all just one chapter, guys), Armand basically gets to play Lestat for Lestat, in the sense that he gets to tell Lestat the exact same arguments that Lestat used to help Armand get free from the CoD. Both of them admit it.

Oh, yeah, and actually, Lestat wasn't expecting to see Armand! That was a surprise. Armand showed up (with David, ew, but maybe it'll be Daniel on the show) because he's worried about Lestat!

And then we get this hilariously petty exchange:

"Around this Dora, I've thrown a protective light. None of us can touch her."

"That goes without saying. I won't hurt your little friend. You wound me." He looked genuinely put out.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know. But I know what blood is and innocence and how delicious both can be. I know how much the girl tempts me."

"Then you must be the one to give in to that temptation," said Armand crossly. "I never choose my victims anymore, you know this. I can stand before a house as always, and out of the doors will come those who want to be in my arms. Of course I won't hurt her. You do hold old grudges. You think I live in the past. You don't understand that I actually change with every era, I always have as best I can."

(Seriously, AMC, give us this scene! Lestat warning Armand specifically, not David, to not hurt someone he cares about but also entrusting this person to Armand's care despite how it turned out previously. And then Armand being salty about it because jeez, Lestat, that was like, so long ago I can't believe you'd bring that up!)

Also, "I can stand in front of a house as always, and out of the doors will come those who want to be in my arms." Made me think of this:

Anyway, then we get to see this:

"Lestat, if you need me--" Armand said. "If this being tries to take you by force!"

"Why do you care about me?" I asked. "After all the bad things I did to you. Why?"

"Oh, don't be such a fool," he begged gently. "You convinced me long ago that the world was a Savage Garden. Remember your old poetry? You said the only laws that were true were aesthetic laws, that was all you could count on."

"Yes, I remember all that. I fear it's true. I've always feared it was true. I feared it when I was a mortal child. I woke up one morning and believed in nothing."

"Well, then, in the Savage Garden," said Armand, "you shine beautifully, my friend. You walk as if it is your garden to do with as you please. And in my wanderings, I always return to you. I always return to see the colors of the garden in your shadow, or reflected in your eyes, perhaps, or to hear of your latest follies and mad obsessions. Besides, we are brothers, are we not?"

A few paragraphs later, Lestat tells Armand (and David, but hopefully Daniel in the show), "I love you both."

All that in one chapter! I just wanted to share it because I feel like other great Lesmand moments get referenced a lot, such as Armand's line from Blood Communion:

"Fool," he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn't suppress. "I have always loved you," he said. "I have loved you more than any being in all the world whim I've ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it."

And, like, that's an epic quote. I love it. But there's more to their relationship than all the bad things and this one quote!

I want to see Lestat do his part to destroy the CoS, including his "Gentleman Death" speech. I want to see Armand's attack on Lestat, him pleading to Lestat to let him accompany him and Gabrielle (promising to be Lestat's servant if that's what it takes), and Lestat rejecting him, partly because of their past and because he knows Armand needs to figure himself out apart from anyone else. I want to see Lestat entrust Nicki to Armand and then get the letter of how Armand chopped Nicki's hands off. I want to see the torture leading up to the play where Lestat is forced to watch Claudia die. I want to see Armand push Lestat off the tower. Because those are pivotal moments in their relationship, too! In particular, Armand attacking Lestat is basically why Lestat never pursues the sort of relationship that Armand wants, even though I would argue the love and affection is there, and that Lestat himself might wish differently at times.

All that pain and horror and tragedy, and then they both agree they can't remember any of it, and that even if/when they do, it's water under the bridge. "You shine beautifully, my friend." "I love you [.]"

Forgiveness is, for me, one of the most important themes of the Vampire Chronicles and, in my opinion, the Lesmand relationship is one of the best examples.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Eight: Stealing Hearts, Broken Souls

The Pariahs That Saved The World

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of death, father issues (like, severe), horror elements, blood, angst central.

[A/N: Good news!! I have returned with a new chapter!! Bad news... you're not gonna like it...]

Stealing Hearts, Broken Souls

“Which one is it?!”

“Do we know if she likes Kate Bush?!”

“Guys, she’s getting worse!”

A cacophony of panic flooded the Winnebago, rushed footsteps and heavy breathing echoing through Robin’s mind as she stands with her hands on your shoulders, tears streaming down her face. She convinced herself holding onto you would stop you floating to the ceiling. She didn’t want to be stood here long enough to find out.

“I’m telling you, her favourite songs won’t be here!” Eddie practically screams at them. They all stop their chaotic rampage of the stolen vehicle, snapping their heads to him.

“Check her bag.” Robin’s hoarse voice cut through the silence, eyes unwavering from where yours were screwed shut, shifting left to right beneath your eyelids.

Steve is the one to swipe your bag tucked into the corner of the table seat, rooting through it with such haste, items clattered to the floor without care. His eyes light up in surprise when he pulls out a familiar object. You had your own Walkman.

“Fuck me, that’s lucky.” Dustin breathes out, and Steve frowns at it. Luck. Yeah, right.

He checks the tape deck, scribbled lettering of ‘stand by me’ on the white space and he runs back over to Robin, carefully slipping the headphones over your ears and pressing play.

A faint melody is muffled against your ears as they all stand there, waiting. Steve’s hand finds its way onto Robin’s shoulder, observing that concerning look on her face. He had expected her usual look of horror, an unfortunate expression Steve has seen too many times. This one was different, however.

This one was guilt.

July 3rd, 1985: The Hospital Incident

The white flickering lights were alighting every nerve, stuttering beams raising three individual heart rates into panic and anxiety.

It was no mystery why you were acting this way when even your surroundings eluded paranoia.

“I shouldn’t be here.” You keep muttering, biting your lip. “I should find her. I- I haven’t heard from her in days.”

Nancy and Jonathan were leading you through the hospital, dragging you along their latest quest. You supposed it wasn’t their fault; you had told them you were willing to help. But you haven’t seen Heather, or even heard from her. That was all you could think about.

“I went to the pool and they said she hasn’t shown up in a while.” You continue, scrunching the ends of your cardigan into your fists. “That’s bad, right? Maybe I should check her house. I’m sorry, I can’t- I need to-”

“We don’t have time right now.” Nancy insisted, but you weren’t really listening, turning back with only the thought of your girlfriend. Their little journalist project would have to wait.

“I’ll be back to help once I-”

“She’s not there.” Jonathan says and the mood shifted. You turn to look at him, his wide eyes implying a guilty nature. Nancy was frozen to the spot, eyebrows furrowed.

“How do you know that?” You ask, walking back to them. “Did you go to her house? Why… why were you there?”

“I was investigating Holloway.” Nancy says hurriedly, “I- We wanted to see where he was.”

You could tell when Nancy Wheeler was lying. She always forced eye contact, her face unusually stoic as to hide the truth. Maybe would find Nancy’s technique in deceit flawless and somewhat inspiring. You always thought she was a terrible liar.

“Her dad is missing too?” You frown, looking between them with nothing but suspicion. They were keeping something from you. “Well now I’m definitely going back.”

You turn around again and Nancy leaps forward.

“Wait!”

“No, Nance.” You snap, talking over your shoulder. “Something is seriously wrong and I can’t do anything until I know she’s safe. Her dad is missing, her mom probably is too, and I haven’t seen her in days, what if-”

“She’s gone!”

Nancy suddenly says and you stop, meeting Jonathan’s startled eyes.

“...What?”

“I-” Nancy can’t bear to look at you, sharing a guilty look with her boyfriend. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“What does that mean?” You shake your head, stepping away from them. But you had already been through the scenario in your mind. And, even worse, you expected this ending. You just couldn’t force yourself to believe it. “Why were you at her house? Why? Nancy!”

“Y/n…” Her forlorn expression spoke louder than any of her mistrusted words could.

“I told you, guys.” You say, blinking against foggy vision as tears started spilling down your cheeks. “I told you something was wrong, and you said I was being paranoid. That I was getting emotional.”

“We didn’t-” Nancy shakes her head, biting her lip. Whatever she had to say, it was useless.

“I can’t believe you.” You place your hand over your mouth, muffling your sobs.

“We could be wrong.” Jonathan interjects, moving closer to you. You take a step back, ignoring the hurt on his face. You and Jonathan may have been friends since you were kids, but that gave him no right to lie to you.

“Look, Y/n, we just need to figure out what’s happening.” Nancy nods almost pleadingly, holding out her hands in surrender. “If we do, we can help Heather. I’m sure- we just need to talk to Mrs Driscoll-”

“I don’t care about Mrs Driscoll!” You almost scream at her. Your unusually steady hands wipe away the tears on your cheeks, taking a deep breath. “Go ahead, Nancy. Finish your article. That’s all you seem to care about anyway.”

“That’s not fair.” She says, but Jonathan places a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head.

“I can’t be here.” You finally whisper. The words felt like a scream, however, as you turn away and start marching back down the hall.

Any sadness you had was shifting into anger. It coursed through you like it powered your every nerve, balling your hands into fists, eyes red and hot withstanding the tears you could no longer pity yourself with.

The last time you saw Heather, she had asked you to meet her after work. Three days ago, you were saying ‘see you later’ as she drove herself away from your house and to the community pool, dressed in a swimsuit and shorts that would always earn her a light-hearted tease about a jazzercise cosplay. Three days ago, you left a voicemail with her manager, cancelling your plans.

You had bumped into Jonathan at the Post, one of the only days your shift schedules aligned in the week. He told you about Nancy’s new journalist endeavour, his scepticism. You admired her determination to be treated fairly in this place, lord knows you’ve been trying for respect for some time too. And then, soon enough, Nancy begged you for help, claiming it was your last chance to be taken seriously as a reporter. Your heart wasn’t even in it, but you said yes. You left a message at the pool, and you followed the couple to Driscoll’s, not even sparing another thought to the girl at the pool.

Now you’re walking back through the hospital knowing that if you had just declined Nancy’s offer, if you had just stuck with your plans and met Heather, would you have saved her?

No, you think to yourself, shaking your head, she can’t be dead. She isn’t dead.

But where would you even start? Maybe Hopper could-

A shadow cuts in front of the doors down the hallway you’ve just entered. You’d seen enough nurses and doctors wandering around, ready to ignore it. But the figure just stood there, blocking the exit.

You squint at the person, slowing your footsteps. You couldn’t tell by the busted lightbulb above their head, dimming their features into the shadow. Your arms were littered with goosebumps, gut twisting. You should turn around.

“Y/N!”

Nancy’s scream echoes through the hospital floor, hitting you with severe impact.

Something was very wrong.

The lights along the hallway start flickering, and the figure is finally cast in unsteady light. Your feet stay frozen to the ground.

“No.” You whisper as he smiles, taking slow steps towards you. He wasn’t meant to be here.

Your dad was meant to be working late at the Post.

Another cry for help had you running back the way you came, hearing the slam of a door not far from you. You skid to a stop in front of the stairs, caught in indecision. Surely they would run for the stairs. Right?

Footsteps running in from behind you set in your flight or fight, pulling open the door and darting down the staircase to the lower floor, heartbeat flooding every one of your senses.

You burst out of the door and just keep moving, not looking back in fear of seeing him following you. He hadn’t looked right, too alien to his natural demeanour, too coincidental to be here at the same time Nancy started crying out. For the second time in your life, you found yourself running away from a man meant to love and protect you unconditionally.

And when you finally found Nancy, her stammering voice talking about a plan to take care of the flayed, you realised you’d have to stop running now, and face the man that loved you with conditions, and never protected you from himself.

“Nancy…” You shake your head at her as you slowly start walking backwards down the hallway.

She barely gave you a moment to think before she was telling you her idea, her stubborn mind fixed to what she believed would work. You weren’t so sure.

“Just stay in position, Y/n.” She hisses at you from behind and you trust her, you really do. But she was foolish to think you were the right person for this.

“I can’t.” You whisper back, tears falling down your face. The lights overhead start to flicker and you grip the metal pole in your hand tighter, praying he doesn’t walk around the corner, that it was all a misunderstanding.

“Just a little longer.” She promises, her soothing voice holding more worth to you than she knows. If only you had seen her face.

Two loud footsteps echo out from around the corner and you hold your breath, waiting for the man to show himself and force every fibre of your body not to run. But it wasn’t him. It was Tom Holloway, Heather’s father, and he was smiling at you.

“Ah, Y/n.” He clicks his neck, smirking, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You shake your head. It wasn’t meant to be him. He was supposed to be dead.

“It’s such a shame no one checked to see if they finished the job.” He laughs, pulling a scalpel you hadn’t even seen protruding from his neck, shrugging when no blood comes rushing out. “Someone should really go check on that poor boy, though. Such a wuss.”

“Nancy.” You try and whisper, but you hear nothing back, only the echo of her retreating footsteps as she rushes to find her boyfriend. You understood, you really did, but you’ve never felt so scared.

“Just the two of us, now.” Tom clears his throat, walking forward with intent and you hold out the pole. “That won’t do anything.”

“Stay back.” You cry out, noticing how dark the black veins were appearing now. Was Heather like this too? “I’m warning you.”

“Or what? You’ll trick me?” He laughs maniacally, stopping just short of you reaching the end of the hall, the corner just behind you. “Or should I say… us?”

Your eyes widen, but it’s too late. A sharp and searing pain digs into your shoulder and you scream, dropping your only weapon out of shock and jolting forward. You stumble, cradling your shoulder as you spin around on the floor, another pair of soulless eyes staring down at you. A sob leaves your lips.

“Dad?”

“Join us.”

You start scrambling away, pushing your legs out beneath you to keep yourself moving back as they stare down at you. Your shoulder was throbbing, blood trickling between your fingertips. You think about calling out for Nancy and Jonathan, but you weren’t even sure if they’d come to save you.

As you start to crumble into the corner, two pairs of soulless eyes prepared to make you one of them, your chest starts to hurt more than any wound could. Whatever friendship you had before was shattered now. With Heather gone, there wasn’t much left for you to care about in Hawkins.

In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of something shining under the flickering lights. It was close, close enough to reach out and grab.

“There’s no reason to be afraid.” Tom smiles, an unnatural curve to his lips. “When you join us, it’ll feel like nothing ever happened.”

Your father smiles with him, and you raise your head.

“No thanks.”

You lunge for the metal pole and manage to grab hold, spinning onto your back and striking it upwards just as one of them pounced at you, the sharp end piercing skin and slipping directly up into their chin, splattering blood on your face.

Tom stumbles back, grabbing at his throat as black veins suddenly burst from the wound. But he wasn’t the one you caught.

“Dad?” You whisper, watching his eyes slowly droop towards you, body slumping against the ground. If you had expected some sort of humanity to return to him, you weren’t going to see it. He was gone, not an ounce of his soul left.

They both finally drop to the floor, exhaling a final breath. You pull your legs out from beneath the body, trying to prop yourself up but crashing back down when the muscles in your arm give out.

“Y/N?!”

You can hear Nancy and Jonathan calling for you, echoing footsteps approaching from further down the hall. The pain in your shoulder was excruciating now, and you were never great at dealing with pain.

You slump against the wall, closing your eyes, unknowing if you would ever want to open them again.

Everything felt normal when you opened your eyes. You were used to the pounding headache in the morning, a flicker of whatever nightmare you endured leaving a scar on your brain. It didn’t happen this time.

You tried to remember what happened. You vaguely recall seeing Robin, her smile. And then…

Everything is thrown back into focus, head darting around the room as you panic against the white lights. It looked like a hospital, the plastic sheet trailing around your bed for privacy. It looked scarily like the bed you woke up in after the flayed incident.

You try and sit up, but your arms can’t move. You try and shift your legs, nothing. It felt like you were tied down to the bed. You managed to angle your head to look down, the panic rising spectacularly.

Vines were slithering around your wrists and ankles, keeping you in place.

Struggling against their strength, you start crying out for help, lights around you flickering wildly. Your top lip still feels wet from the nosebleed. Vecna had you again, and you knew this time was different. This time, he didn’t want you to escape.

The plastic sheet surrounding your bed is suddenly pulled back, and it was like you couldn’t even breathe anymore.

“Hi, honey.” Your father says, mouth dripping black blood, veins stretching around a wound underneath his chin.

You try and ignore him, looking anywhere but where he stood and tugging at your restraints. This wasn’t real. He’s dead. He died-

“Because you killed me.” He growls. Your eyes widen. How did he-

Vecna, you tell yourself, it’s Vecna.

“You didn’t even try to save me.” He creeps closer, first curling around something you couldn’t see. “You cared more about that stupid Holloway girl than you ever did your own flesh and blood.”

A tear escapes your eye, scrunching your face in fury. You hate how much this is affecting you.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

He wants this, you remind yourself, still relentlessly pulling at the vines. Vecna wants you to feel guilt, he wants you to feel like you’re responsible for his death. And he’s using your dead father to do it.

You frown, stopping your attempts of escape.

Can Vecna really win if you didn’t believe his lies?

“I’d do it all over again if it meant I could save Heather.”

He looks taken aback- Vecna looks taken aback. Like he wasn’t expecting you to be so… heartless.

“My father was an asshole, and a bitter man. He never cared about his own flesh and blood. And I’m glad he’s dead. I never wanted it to be this way, but I will never, never, let myself feel guilty over something that wasn’t my fault.”

“And what about me?”

You turn your head to the other side of the bed, a girl leant against the wall in the shadows. You didn’t need to see her. You’ve been haunted by her voice for months now.

“I couldn’t have done anything.” You say, mostly to convince yourself what everyone has been telling you for ages. It wasn’t your fault.

“You could have chosen me over your friends.” She spits bitterly, not moving from the dark corner. “They used you. You’ve known Jonathan your whole life, and he didn’t care about you. Nancy didn’t even care if she left you for dead. You were nothing but a pawn.”

“I stayed. That was my choice.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I might never forgive myself for what happened to you, but I won’t let it ruin my life.”

“But you’ll let it ruin mine?”

Your eyes fly open, shock taking your breath.

She finally steps out of the shadow, voice warped into someone else. Because she was someone else.

“You don’t even like me, do you?” Robin asks, tears running down her face but her expression was emotionless. “You want me to be Heather. You want her.”

“No.” You whisper, tugging against the vines on your wrists.

“You knew this was happening to you, and you let me fall for you.” She shakes her head, leaning over the bed so she was staring down at you from an uncomfortable distance. “And I know if you survive, you’re never going to look at me again. You just used me to feel better about your bitter life. You don’t think you should be loved. And you’re right. Your father never loved you. Your mother hated you so much she left. Your gran doesn’t even want you here.”

“Shut up!” You scream, breaking free your right hand to push her away.

She stumbles back as you claw at your other wrist.

“It was only a matter of time before you hurt her”

Everything was plunged into a dark red, the bed disappearing from beneath you and you land hard on rocky ground, coughing.

“You should have left when you had the chance, Y/n”

You try to scramble to your feet, but a flick of his hand throws you against a protruding staircase, making you cough from the impact.

You manage to grab hold of a spindle, slowly pulling yourself up. He starts to walk over to you and then abruptly stops, looking across the barren sky. At first, you don’t understand, confused with his sudden change of posture.

And then it slowly drifts in. A melody.

When the night has come

And the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we’ll see

Vecna snarls, turning back to you. You look surprised, you felt surprised.

This was your favourite song blasting through a crimson nightmare. A song you held so close to you, you never told anyone about it.

Well, no one except the school counsellor...

No, I won’t be afraid

Oh, I won’t be afraid

Just as long as you stand

Stand by me

The faint melody from Ben E. King starts drifting around the Winnebago, filling the silence with an unsuspecting song. One that was meant to be saving your life right now.

“Does she even like this song?” Nancy asks, her chest heaving unevenly as she stares at your catatonic state. She was panicking, and to see Nancy panic like this was rare.

“It was in her bag, she obviously put it there because she likes it.” Lucas points out, and Steve tries to ignore the pit in stomach that told it that wasn’t the case.

“Then why isn’t it working?” Nancy stresses, snapping at the boy before immediately apologising.

“Woah, Nance.” Steve puts a hand on her shoulder, “It took Max a minute to get out, okay? She’s going to be fine.”

As she opened her mouth to argue, Steve was proven right.

Nancy and Dustin are the ones to catch you, ensuring a comfortable fall in an uncomfortable circumstance. Nancy quickly wipes away her tears, smiling.

“You’re okay.” She says as you reach out for a hand to hold. “We’ve got you.”

Steve smiles at that for some reason, feeling relieved and terrified. He thought Max was his last victim, so why did he need you?

There’s a soft click of the Winnebago door behind him, quiet enough to not disturb the others from their emotional celebration. Steve wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t painfully aware of his best friend’s absence beside him.

He sneaks out and finds her stood in the field, arms wrapped around herself in comfort. When she noticed he had followed, he was surprised she didn’t say anything. Robin was rarely speechless. And so, in consideration, he decided to let a minute of silence pass.

A choked sob eventually cut through the peace.

“Robin?” He frowns, reaching out. His heart sinks when he sees the tear rolling down her cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.” She whispers and he pulls her into a hug.

“She’s okay. He didn’t win.”

“No, she’s not.” Robin sobs, but he only holds her tighter, letting her cry. “It’s all my fault.”

“How could it be your fault?” Steve dismisses with a soothing tone.

“Because…”

He feels her pull away, the eyes above mascara stained cheeks settling on his. Steve has known she’s been acting weirder than usual for a while now, too quiet, holding back secrets. And right now, she looked like she was going to burst.

“Robin?”

“I knew all of this was going to happen.” She whispers it like a crime. He doesn’t really understand.

“What?”

“I lied to her.” She covers her mouth, muffling the next few words. “I didn’t ask her to come here because we needed her help.”

Steve shakes his head, trying to make sense of her confession. “What- why did you bring her here?”

“I…” She takes a step back, her posture practically fighting the truth as it came out.

“Robin.” He persists.

“I found her file in Ms Kelley’s office!” She blurts, panicking at the volume of her voice. “Shit. I-” Her hands run down her face. “It wasn’t meant to happen like this. Max said she was cursed and I- I panicked. I thought maybe we could buy some time, bring in a distraction...”

“You…” Steve blinks, not bothering to quieten his own words. He was too panicked now. “You brought her here because you knew Vecna would go after her.”

Her silence said everything she couldn’t.

“Oh.” He breathes. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She frowns. “I-”

“You knew?”

They both spin around to where you’re stood, a Walkman you’ve never touched before gripped in your hand. Robin’s eyes widen, shell-shocked at your presence.

“Y/n, please.” She runs over to you, grabbing your hand in hers. You don’t remove it, or push her away. You just stand and stare. “It wasn’t meant to get this far. I just- I hoped it would all be over by now. I never meant to hurt you. I was just scared and I… Y/n?”

You slowly slip your hand out of hers, staring down at it like it was the problem. Robin’s mouth parts in surprise.

Nobody spoke. You all just stood surrounded by air poisoned with lies and deceit, your betrayed eyes resting on the girl you trusted with your life. The girl who was quite literally bartering your life this entire time.

You walked away when your heart started beating again, a tight grip around the song box currently keeping you alive.

Chapter Nine: coming soon...

taglist: @kryztalglear @learninglinesintherainn @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer

@endurexxsurvive @em16cor @gray-cheese @chaosofmanyfandoms @kitdjarin1

@some-day--some-how @cultish-corner @marirxse @amnoisysstuff

[prince-liest]

I’m a sex-repulsed ace, and reading the latest chapter of 666 (as well as your analysis here on Tumblr) made me realize that I have been subconsciously thinking about MY OWN sexuality from an allo perspective? And that it has kinda been messing me up?? Like, ever since I learned that sexual attraction was actually a Thing and that it’s Important To People, I had been carrying around a fear of being deficient in some way and not being able to love to the same extent as allos. (1)

Even though I know logically that’s complete garbage and totally untrue, I felt left out of the loop because people seemed to care strongly about this thing I couldn’t even imagine. Whenever it looked like a relationship might happen I panicked for a reason that I couldn’t understand. But now I’m starting to realize that it’s because I was subconsciously terrified of an ‘ulterior motive’ behind the other person’s reasons for wanting to be with me. (2) That part of the reason they even cared was because of something I don’t experience. So thank you, because this realization just clicked into place while reading your work. The thing is, this way of thinking was just internalized in such a way that I didn’t even realize it was there until literally this week. And I think you’re right; one of the main reasons behind that is because I’ve always consumed media written from an allo perspective. (3) If ace/aros are shown at all, they’re depicted as “lacking” and their character development usually revolves around being “fixed” by the story. When I was ~10 years old my mom sometimes let me watch the Big Bang Theory with her (looking back, maybe not the best decision). Anyways, there was one episode deep into the series where Sheldon (who for the past nineish seasons was probably the closest thing to mainstream ace rep) has sex with his girlfriend for the first time. (4) Afterwards, he says something along the lines of “that was better than I thought it would be”, and it’s presented as a Very Good Thing and a big step in their relationship. I think a lifetime of stuff like that makes it very easy to internalize aphobia and feel like the lesser part of the relationship. Or to feel like the other partner is making a huge sacrifice to be with you. That got wayy too long, sorry. All that was just a lot of words to say that I appreciate you. Take care of yourself!(5)

The portrayal of asexuality that you see in media being almost exclusively as you described is very tedious to me because it presumes that something is inherently lacking in aro/aceness rather than that feeling of "lacking" being something that is induced by societal norms. Actually, one of the things that I find additionally alienating is that fandom spaces specifically have been getting better and better about ace characters - but got damn does fandom not jive with aromanticism. Like, a character doesn't want to fuck? That's becoming a liiiittle more fine, it's 2024, we stan consent. But not shipping someone romantically?? Not so easy, now.

I'm glad that my work has been something that resonated with you in this respect! Alastor cares a lot about his reputation as a demon but is pretty blatantly a person who could not possibly give less of a shit about being "wrong" for not being experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. The explanation Viv gave at one point for his own understanding of himself (that he thinks he's just "waiting for the right woman") actually stuck out to me a lot because it's a very "well, nothing is wrong with me for not feeling anything, it's the world that's failed to produce a suitable person" perspective.

But having that kind of confident perspective of your own rightness in the world is really not often portrayed in media, or even in fandom, which even ten years ago was still in the throes of standardizing "Oh, no! Me, gay? These feelings are so wrong!" style m/m content and is honestly not that far off from essentially that for aro/ace characters.

Anyway, all of that is to say that there's not yet much out there that doesn't frame allo/amatonormative values as the default that "even aro/ace people can (and should want to) achieve," and that it's really fun to write a fic that is unequivocally from the perspective of a character who is aroace and doesn't see it as even remotely a fault in himself. Does he have moments where he's a little confused and trying to process how things fit for him? Absolutely. But he just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who thinks he owes romance to Vox of all people, hahaha. I've written him trying to conform to allo/amatonormativity more with Mimzy, because I think the social standards of their time could push him into it, but Vox? Absolutely not, he does not respect Vox enough for it to even enter his mind.

And then, on the other hand, writing it from an aroace perspective centers the way that romantic and sexual interest can feel like a betrayal of a good thing. With a character like Alastor, it frames romantic and sexual attraction the same alien way that we usually see aromanticism and asexuality framed as.

In the end, this is just one of a plethora of different experiences that aro/ace people can have, but it's one that I really wanted to see represented more, so I'm very happy to write it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling - Chapter 3

Synopsis:

A dinner with friends brings laughter and teasing, but y/n’s mind keeps wandering back to Hank. As she reflects on the unexpected turn her life has taken, the excitement builds with the possibility of seeing him again—sooner than she expected.

Word Count: 7,131

Masterlist

That evening, I was meeting the girls for dinner—something we hadn’t managed to pull off in far too long. It had been months since we’d all managed to get together in one place. Between work, relationships, and life pulling us in different directions, catching up had become more difficult lately. But tonight, we’d somehow made it happen—me, Natalie, Grace, Aisling, and Haj—my core group from college. We had always promised to keep our dinners a regular thing, but life had a way of shifting that definition of “regular.”

The Italian restaurant we’d picked was tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It had a charming, almost rustic feel to it—brick walls, low lighting, and fairy lights twinkling above the outdoor seating area, that gave the place a cozy, intimate vibe. The scent of garlic, fresh basil, and wood-fired pizza drifted through the air, making my stomach rumble as soon as we sat down.

The place was lively, filled with the hum of people chatting over plates of pasta and glasses of wine. We’d managed to get a table by the window, and within minutes, bottles of wine had been ordered. We’d already gone through the obligatory catching-up phase, talking about family, work, and the latest shows everyone was obsessed with.

“So, this patient today,” Aisling was saying, swirling her wine glass. She worked as a pharmacist in one of the biggest hospitals in the city. “Comes in with a prescription for, like, five different meds—none of which should even be taken together. I spent half my afternoon trying to explain to the guy that he might actually want to talk to his doctor about that.”

Natalie laughed, shaking her head. “Seriously, people just don’t get it. It’s like they have no idea how close they are to causing real damage to themselves.” As a researcher in a hospital lab, Natalie had more than her share of stories about patients and experiments. “I had a patient swearing up and down last week that he was allergic to water. I mean, how do you even respond to that?”

The laughter around the table was easy, familiar. We had known each other long enough that everyone’s stories felt like shared history, and despite how long it had been, slipping back into conversation was effortless.

Grace leaned back in her chair, tapping her glass thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve been dealing with a lot of that lately too. It’s like no one understands basic biology anymore.”

Haj, who had been mostly quiet up until now, nodded. “It’s the internet. Everyone’s convinced they’re a doctor now because they read some sketchy blog.”

I nodded along with their stories, adding in the occasional comment, but my mind wasn’t really there. I’d been smiling all evening, but it had little to do with the conversation and everything to do with Hank.

I couldn’t help it—my thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way he had looked at me before he left, his lips brushing against mine one last time, promising he’d call. Even now, hours later, I could still feel the warmth of his jacket draped over me. I caught myself grinning like an idiot more than once.

Natalie, who had been watching me with narrowed eyes for the past few minutes, finally spoke up. “Y/n? Hello? You’ve been smiling to yourself for, like, the last ten minutes. Care to share?”

I blinked, snapping back to the conversation. “What? Oh, sorry. I’m here. I’m just… distracted.”

Grace raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. “Distracted, huh? By what?”

“Or who?” Aisling added, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

My face heated up instantly. I quickly shook my head, trying to play it off. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just had a long day.”

“Oh, come on,” Natalie teased, leaning in. “We know that look. You can’t just brush us off like that.”

I sighed, feeling my blush deepen as they all stared at me expectantly. “Fine. There’s… a guy.”

The table erupted with a chorus of excited squeals, and I immediately regretted saying anything. “Oh my God!” Grace practically shouted. “Spill. Who is he? When did this happen?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I said quickly, trying to downplay it. “We just met yesterday.”

Haj leaned in, looking scandalised. “Yesterday? And you’re already smiling like that? It sounds like a pretty big deal.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin that was tugging at my lips. “He’s just… different, I guess. We had a great time, but it’s too early to know if it’s anything.”

Ever the voice of reason, she tilted her head thoughtfully. “Are you going to see him again?”

I shrugged, though my heart fluttered at the thought. “I hope so. He said he’d call, but… well, we didn’t exchange numbers.”

Natalie groaned dramatically. “Y/n, seriously? Rookie mistake!”

I laughed, shrugging. “We both know where the other lives, so it’s not like we won’t see each other again. I guess it’s just… a waiting game.”

“Wait, what?” Aisling interrupted, staring at me wide-eyed. “Why do you know where he lives already?”

I hesitated, feeling my heart race slightly. “Okay, so maybe… we slept together.”

That was all it took. The table practically exploded with noise—gasps, laughter, and shrieks of disbelief.

Natalie was the first to recover, wide-eyed and grinning. “Hold on—you never sleep with someone that quickly.”

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite my embarrassment. “I know! But it just happened. We met at a bar where he works, and things went really well… and then today, we spent the morning together.”

Aisling’s mouth fell open. “You spent the morning together? Like, an actual date?”

I nodded, blushing again. “Yeah, we had breakfast at his place, and then went to get coffee. There was an incident so we went back to my place, and we hung out a little.”

Grace smirked, raising her glass. “Well, well, well. Look at you. The y/n I know never moves this fast.”

“I know, okay?” I said, rolling my eyes but unable to wipe the grin off my face. “It’s completely out of character for me. But he’s different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Haj leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Okay, we need every detail.”

I spent the next few minutes filling them in on the whole story—meeting Hank at the bar, the night we spent together, breakfast and the coffee date, and playing records at my place earlier that day. By the time I was finished, my friends were practically buzzing with excitement.

Aisling was shaking her head, grinning. “This is wild. I can’t believe you did that.”

Grace, ever the pragmatic one, raised an eyebrow. “But… are you okay with it? I mean, no regrets?”

I thought about it for a moment, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind. “No regrets,” I said, feeling the truth of it settle in my chest. “I don’t know where it’s going, but it feels good.”

Natalie lifted her glass. “Well, don’t overthink it. If it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen.”

“Exactly,” Haj chimed in, raising her glass. “To not overthinking.”

We all clinked glasses, and I tried to relax back into the conversation. But as the night wore on, my mind kept drifting back to Hank. He didn’t have my number, and I knew he was working tonight, so it wasn’t like I could expect a message. Still, a small part of me couldn’t help hoping for some sign that he was thinking about me too.

By the time I finally got home that night, the buzz of excitement I’d been riding since the morning had started to dull, slowly replaced by a nagging sense of uncertainty. My apartment felt quieter than usual, the space around me too still after the laughter and chatter of dinner with my friends. I kicked off my shoes by the door, tossing my bag onto the couch before heading straight to the kitchen. A glass of wine would be nice, I thought. Maybe it would calm the growing restlessness building in my chest.

I poured the wine and leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at my phone. The screen stayed stubbornly dark, no messages or missed calls lighting it up. Of course not, I reminded myself. Hank didn’t even have my number. He was at work tonight—busy, dealing with who-knows-what at the bar. It wasn’t like he had the chance to reach out, even if he wanted to. But still, that tiny flicker of hope wouldn’t die.

I told myself over and over that it didn’t mean anything. The fact that I hadn’t heard from him was just logistics. Nothing more. I’d see him soon. Right?

I pushed the thought aside, draining the glass of wine in a few long sips before heading to bed. But even as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. I replayed the day over and over—the way Hank had looked at me over coffee, the feel of his hand resting casually on my waist, the way his lips had lingered on mine like he wasn’t ready to let go. Every moment flickered through my mind like a reel I couldn’t stop, leaving me lying there, wide awake.

*

The next day at work, it was no better. If anything, it was worse. I arrived at the clinic early, hoping that a busy day with patients would pull my focus away from Hank. But instead, every quiet moment seemed to amplify the thoughts swirling in my head.

I replayed the previous morning in my mind, my stomach fluttering every time I thought about the way he’d smiled, that easy, teasing grin. The warmth of his jacket still lingered in my memory, a constant reminder of how close we’d been. It was like I couldn’t get him out of my head, no matter how hard I tried.

I moved from exam room to exam room, seeing patients and making notes, but my thoughts kept drifting back to him. Each time my mind wandered, I had to reel myself back in, forcing myself to focus on the animals in front of me, their worried owners standing nearby. But it was hard—too hard.

I was in the middle of checking on a Labrador with a persistent cough when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. My heart leapt, a ridiculous wave of excitement crashing over me, but the moment I pulled it out and saw a notification from my grocery delivery app, reality hit me. I sighed, shoving the phone back into my pocket. He doesn’t have my number, I reminded myself for what felt like the hundredth time.

I tried to shake off the feeling of disappointment, pushing myself to focus on the work that actually needed my attention. There were animals here, depending on me to be present, but even though I was right there in the clinic, part of me was somewhere else entirely.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, the day felt like it was dragging. I’d spent most of it trying to stay focused, but every quiet moment made me wonder if Hank was thinking about me, the way I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was distracting, but also… kind of thrilling.

It wasn’t until later that night, when I was on call, that I finally got the distraction I so desperately needed. I was about to head home when an emergency came in—a sweet old retriever, his eyes cloudy and breath laboured, was rushed into the clinic. His owner was frantic, explaining that the dog had suddenly collapsed after dinner. My heart ached just seeing the worry on their face.

Without a second thought, I threw myself into work, the adrenaline kicking in as we moved the dog onto the exam table. It was serious, but we were ready for it. Hours went by in a blur of scans, blood-work, and constant attention to the frail dog, the kind of focus that pulled me away from everything else in the world.

For the first time in two days, I wasn’t thinking about Hank or wondering what he was doing. My mind was solely on this dog, on making sure we found the cause and did everything we could to help him.

By the time we got the retriever stable, it was well past two in the morning. I was completely drained—physically and emotionally—but there was a sense of relief that came with it. The hours had been long and intense, but knowing we’d done everything we could brought a certain peace I hadn’t felt all day. The weight of the day began to lift, replaced by the simple satisfaction of doing my job.

Stepping outside into the cool night air, exhaustion finally settled in. My body ached, and all I wanted was to collapse into bed. For the first time in hours, I wasn’t thinking about Hank. I was just tired—too tired to overthink anything, too tired to care.

By the time I got home, the streets were quiet, the world around me dark and still. I fumbled for my keys, barely keeping my eyes open, but relieved that the day was finally over. As I unlocked the door, something caught my eye. A small piece of paper was tucked under the doorframe.

I bent down and picked up the paper, its edges slightly crumpled from being shoved under the door. The handwriting wasn’t familiar, and for a second, I wondered if it was something random—a flyer, a note from a neighbour—but as soon as I unfolded it and saw his name at the bottom, my heart skipped a beat.

Hey, I stopped by, but you weren’t home. I guess maybe you’re working late. Anyway, here’s my number. Call me if you’re free later. – Hank.

I read the note again, slower this time, letting each word sink in. My heart did a little flip as I realised he hadn’t forgotten. He’d come by. The day had been so long, my head so full of overthinking, that I hadn’t even let myself imagine this.

He didn’t know where I worked, didn’t know what time I’d get home, but he’d still made the effort to leave a note. That simple gesture, the thoughtfulness of it, made my chest feel warm, even in the silence of the late night. He wanted to talk. He wanted to see me again.

I stood there for a moment, staring at his handwriting, trying to remember if I’d ever felt this... excited, yet unsure at the same time. It had only been a couple of days since we’d met, but somehow, it felt like longer. Like something bigger had shifted. The nervous energy from earlier slowly melted away, replaced with quiet relief. He’d left his number. Now, it was my turn.

I moved into the living room, kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag on the couch, but my mind was already working overtime. Should I text him now? I wondered. If he’d just gotten off work, maybe he was still awake. It was late, but maybe it wasn’t too late, not for someone who worked nights like he did. But would texting now seem like I was coming on too strong? Should I wait until the morning?

I glanced at my phone, turning it over in my hands a few times before finally sitting down and pulling it closer. I opened a new message, typed and deleted at least three different versions of the text before settling on something simple but honest.

Hi, it’s y/n. Sorry I missed you. I was on call tonight, had an emergency, and got home super late.

I reread the message, my thumb hovering over the send button. It felt... okay, right? Not too eager, but not too distant either. I took a breath, bit my lip, and before I could overthink it any further, I hit send.

Immediately, I set my phone down on the coffee table, my heart still racing. I tried not to stare at the screen, but every few seconds, I’d glance over, expecting it to light up. The minutes stretched on, and my mind wandered—what if he didn’t reply tonight? What if he was already asleep? What if...

My phone buzzed.

I nearly knocked over the glass of water I’d set down as I grabbed it off the table. I quickly unlocked the screen, my heart leaping at the sight of his reply.

Well, look who it is. Thought you might’ve forgotten about me ;) No worries! I figured you were busy saving lives. Let me know when you’re free.

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I read his message. The nervous tension in my chest loosened, replaced by a flutter of excitement. I laughed softly to myself, shaking my head at his playful tone. Of course he’d make a joke.

I leaned back into the cushions of the couch, relaxing a little more as I typed my response:

I’m on an earlier shift tomorrow, and I’m not on call. I should be home by around 5pm.

This time, I didn’t hesitate as much before hitting send. The anticipation of hearing from him again had shifted from nervousness to something lighter, easier. I didn’t have to overthink it. He wanted to see me, and I wanted to see him too. Simple.

My phone buzzed again, just a minute later.

Good to know. I’ll let you get some sleep—don’t want to tire you out before tomorrow :)

I laughed softly, feeling a warm flutter in my stomach. He was thoughtful, even when teasing. It was enough to make the rest of the day feel like a blur—a tiring blur, sure—but somehow, it all led to this moment. I sent back a quick Goodnight before placing my phone down for the night.

I sat there for a few moments, letting the day sink in, the feeling of Hank’s presence lingering even though he wasn’t here. Tomorrow. I’d see him tomorrow.

With that thought in mind, I finally got up, heading to bed with a small, content smile still tugging at the corners of my mouth.

*

Still, as my alarm blared, I groggily pulled myself out of bed, the anticipation of seeing him again driving me forward. My phone was silent, no new messages waiting, but that wasn’t a surprise. We hadn’t arranged a specific time to meet; I figured we’d text or call once I got home. The thought of him waiting for me later kept me from succumbing to the usual morning fog that clung to me after a short night’s sleep.

I shuffled into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and splashing cold water on my face. The routine was automatic—getting dressed, throwing on my scrubs, tying my hair back—all while my mind wandered to what the evening might bring. The thought of seeing Hank again sent little flutters of excitement through me, even if part of me was still trying to play it cool. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, but I couldn’t deny the thrill of it.

The day at the clinic dragged. The steady stream of patients helped keep my mind busy, but in every quiet moment, my thoughts drifted back to him. I found myself replaying our messages from the night before, the playful banter and the promise that we’d see each other today. It was silly, I knew, to be this worked up over someone I’d only known for a few days, but there was something about Hank that felt different—like we clicked in a way I hadn’t expected. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see him.

By the time my shift was over, I was practically counting the minutes until I could get home. I tried not to rush through my last few patients, but the excitement bubbling up inside me was hard to contain. I finished my notes, packed up my things, and practically bolted out of the clinic.

The walk home felt longer than usual, each step filled with a nervous kind of energy. I knew I’d be seeing him soon, but without a clear plan, I wasn’t sure when. Maybe we’d talk when I got home, figure out a time to meet up later in the evening. The uncertainty of it made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.

But when I turned the corner onto my street, I saw him. Hank was there, leaning casually against the wall near the entrance to my building, two cups of coffee in hand. He spotted me instantly, a grin spreading across his face as he straightened up.

“Surprise,” he said, holding up one of the cups as I approached.

I couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across my face. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, reaching out and taking the cup from him. Our fingers brushed briefly, a light, almost electric touch, and I felt a flutter in my chest. The coffee was warm against my hands, but the warmth I felt had nothing to do with the cup.

“I figured you’d need it after your shift,” he said, his voice soft but playful. His eyes flicked over me, and I could see the amusement there. “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” I replied with a soft laugh, taking a sip of the coffee. The rich taste flooded my senses, instantly making me feel a little more grounded, like I could finally unwind. It wasn’t just the coffee—it was the fact that Hank had thought to bring it. That small gesture, so thoughtful, made my chest feel light.

He watched me as I drank, his smile widening slightly as if he could tell how much I appreciated it. “Good?” he asked, the teasing note still there.

“Perfect,” I said, feeling my shoulders relax for the first time all day. “Exactly what I needed.”

“How long have you been waiting?” I asked, my heart fluttering slightly as I looked up at him, meeting his gaze.

“Not long,” he said with a casual shrug. “Wanted to catch you off guard.”

“Well, you definitely succeeded,” I teased, biting my lip as I studied him. The warmth between us seemed to grow with every second we stood there. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at me, the easy way we fell into conversation, like we had known each other for much longer than just a few days.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. We just stood there, smiling at each other, the world around us shrinking down to the two of us. The street, the cars, the faint sounds of the city—it all faded into the background, leaving this charged space between us.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked, my voice softer now, the invitation hanging in the air between us, filled with anticipation.

Hank didn’t hesitate. His grin widened as he nodded. “I’d love to.”

We made our way upstairs, and my heart thudded in my chest with every step. The nervous excitement that had been building all day was now full-blown, humming through me. I fumbled a little with my keys as I unlocked the door, but Hank didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t mention it.

Once we were inside, I set the coffee down on the kitchen counter, turning to face him. He stepped into the small space of my apartment, glancing around for a second before his eyes settled back on me. His gaze dropped to the scrubs I was still wearing from work, and he smirked.

“Not gonna lie,” he said, stepping a little closer, his voice low and teasing, “you look pretty damn good in those scrubs.”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something that made my stomach flip. “Really?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, but the way he was looking at me made my heart race. “Scrubs aren’t exactly known for being sexy.”

“You’d be surprised,” he murmured, his hand moving to rest lightly on my hip, his fingers brushing over the fabric. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through me, the connection between us deepening with each passing second. “I think you pull them off pretty well.”

I swallowed, the air between us feeling suddenly heavier, charged with something electric. His hand on my waist felt like it was leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and the way he looked at me made my breath catch.

“You have a thing for vet scrubs, huh?” I teased, though my voice was softer now, almost breathless.

Hank’s grin widened, his eyes darkening slightly as he leaned in closer. “Maybe I just have a thing for you,” he said, his voice low, his lips brushing lightly against mine as he spoke. The words sent a rush of warmth through me, my pulse quickening as the space between us vanished.

The kiss started slow, tentative, like he was giving me a moment to pull away if I wanted to. But I didn’t. I kissed him back, my hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, the heat between us building with every passing second, every touch.

His hand slid around my waist, tugging me against him as the kiss grew more urgent, more desperate. The teasing from earlier was gone, replaced by a hunger that had been simmering between us since the moment we’d met.

“God, I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with desire.

His words sent a shiver down my spine, my body reacting instantly to the need in his voice. “Me too,” I whispered, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I pressed against him, wanting to be closer, to feel more of him.

Hank groaned softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming. The kiss intensified, growing hungrier, needier, until it was like we couldn’t get enough of each other. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him as our kisses became more frantic, more heated.

Hank’s hands gripped my waist tighter, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. The heat radiating from his body made my skin tingle, and every touch felt more urgent, more desperate. I could feel the tension building, the electricity between us crackling like a live wire, and it was impossible to hold back.

His fingers fumbled at the hem of my scrubs, tugging the fabric up over my hips, his touch sending sparks across my skin. I gasped into his mouth as he pulled the material up, breaking the kiss just long enough for him to strip the top off over my head, tossing it carelessly to the side.

Before I could catch my breath, his hands were back on me, trailing down my sides, his lips crashing against mine again in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. My fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, yanking it up in a frantic motion. I wanted—no, needed—to feel him, to touch every part of him. The moment his skin was exposed, I dragged my hands across his chest, my nails grazing lightly over his skin as I pushed his shirt up and over his head.

He groaned against my mouth, the sound sending a wave of desire through me. His hands moved to my hair, his fingers brushing over the tied-up strands. Without a word, he tugged the tie loose, letting my hair fall around my shoulders in a messy cascade. His fingers tangled in it as he pulled me closer, kissing me like he couldn’t get enough.

“You look so damn good like this,” he breathed against my lips, his voice rough and full of need. His hands roamed over my body, caressing, claiming, and I could barely think, barely breathe. All I knew was that I wanted him closer.

I pressed against him, my hands sliding down his chest to the waistband of his jeans, my fingers fumbling with the button in my haste to get them off. Hank’s lips moved to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he kissed his way down, making my knees go weak. His hands slid down to my waist, gripping the fabric of my scrubs with a possessive urgency. In one swift motion, he tugged them down, the material falling around my ankles, leaving me standing there in nothing but my underwear.

“Fuck,” he groaned, stepping back just slightly to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

I didn’t have time to feel self-conscious, not with the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world right now. His gaze was intense, filled with hunger and something deeper that made my heart race even faster.

Before I could respond, his lips were on mine again, and we were both moving, our hands desperate as we tugged at the last pieces of clothing between us. His jeans hit the floor, quickly followed by his boxers, and I felt his hands reach for my bra, unclasping it with a practiced motion before tossing it aside.

He pressed me up against the wall, his lips trailing down my neck, my collarbone, his breath hot against my skin. I moaned softly, my head tilting back as his hands gripped my waist, pinning me there with an intensity that made my pulse race.

“Hank,” I breathed, my hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer as our bodies moved together. His name slipped from my lips like a prayer, and the sound of it seemed to ignite something in him.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, and with one swift motion, they were gone, tossed somewhere to the side with the rest of our clothes. The sensation of his skin against mine was overwhelming, every nerve in my body on fire, aching for him.

He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed me harder against the wall, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered, “I need you.”

I could barely respond, my mind clouded with desire, my body moving on instinct as I pulled him closer, our lips crashing together in a kiss that was wild, frantic, and all-consuming.

Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us searing. Every touch felt electric, like a live current running through me. Hank’s hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he held me against the wall, his mouth never leaving mine, our breaths ragged and urgent.

A desperate whimper escaped me, my voice trembling with need. My nails dug into his shoulders as he kissed his way down my chest, his tongue flicking over my skin in a way that made my knees go weak. I arched into him, my back pressing harder against the wall as I tried to get even closer.

Hank’s grip on me tightened, his hands moving with a sense of urgency that matched the heat building between us. I could feel the tension in his body, the barely contained desire, and it made my pulse race. His lips found mine again, the kiss deeper this time, more intense, like he couldn’t wait any longer.

I moaned into his mouth, my hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer. The sensation of his skin against mine, the heat between us, was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help the way my body responded, arching into him, craving more.

I felt his hands shift, lifting me slightly as he positioned himself at my core. There was a brief pause, a moment of anticipation that hung in the air between us, and then he was there, and I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped me as he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and heat that sent a shockwave through me, making me arch against him. He groaned, his forehead resting against mine, his breath hot and ragged as he held still for just a moment, letting us both feel the intensity of the connection.

“God, you feel amazing,” he breathed, his voice low and rough with need. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, deeper, and I moaned softly in response, my nails digging into his shoulders as I held on.

Hank’s breath was hot against my neck, his grip on me firm as he set a steady, intense rhythm, his body pressed tightly against mine. I could feel the muscles in his back flexing under my hands, the power in every movement, and it drove me wild.

“Fuck,” I gasped, unable to stop the word from slipping out. Everything about this—about him—was too much, too good. Every movement, every touch, sent pleasure crashing through me, building higher and higher until it felt like I might explode.

I bit my lip, moaning as the intensity between us built, our bodies moving in perfect sync, the friction between us driving me closer to the edge. My legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, and I could feel the tension inside me winding tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

“More,” I whispered, my voice ragged with need. “Don’t stop.”

Hank growled softly, his grip on me tightening as he picked up the pace, his movements more urgent now, more desperate. I could feel the heat rising, the pleasure building with every thrust, until it was all I could do to hold on, my body trembling with the force of it.

“Hank, I’m close,” I panted, my voice trembling, and he groaned in response, his fingers sliding down between us, teasing, making me gasp.

“Let go for me sweetheart.” His voice, his touch—it was all too much. The tension inside me snapped, and I fell over the edge, pleasure crashing through me in waves so intense I couldn’t hold back the cry that escaped my lips. My body shuddered under the force of it, my hands gripping Hank’s shoulders, nails digging in as I rode the overwhelming sensation.

“God, yes,” I gasped, the pleasure coursing through me, threatening to unravel me completely as I held on, lost in the intensity.

Hank let out a deep, guttural moan, his hands gripping my waist tighter as he followed me over the edge, his body tensing against mine as he found his own release. We moved together, the intensity of the moment leaving us breathless and shaking, our bodies still locked together as the last waves of pleasure washed over us.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We just stood there, our bodies pressed together, our breaths mingling as we slowly came down from the high. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin, and I couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that spread across my face.

Hank’s grip on me relaxed, and I loosened my legs as he carefully lowered me to the floor. My feet hit the ground, and I wobbled slightly, still feeling a little unsteady, but Hank’s hands stayed on my hips, steadying me.

“There you go,” he said with a teasing smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Thanks,” I murmured, still catching my breath. My body felt like it was buzzing, alive with the afterglow of what we’d just shared, and even though the moment was over, the connection between us still lingered in the air.

Hank let out a soft chuckle, his lips brushing my temple. “I didn’t plan on that happening the second I walked in the door,” he said, his voice low and still a little breathless.

I laughed, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t exactly expecting it either,” I admitted, my fingers still lightly resting on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat slowing under my touch, a comforting rhythm that made me feel even more connected to him.

He gently pulled back, his hands sliding down my sides as he did. “You hungry?” he asked, his expression softening as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

I nodded, feeling the stirrings of hunger now that the intensity of the moment had passed. “Starving,” I said with a grin.

“Good,” he said, stepping back and reaching for his jeans on the floor. “I think we’ve earned a feast after that.”

We both laughed as we quickly dressed, the air between us lighter now, more comfortable. Once we were both decent, I grabbed my phone and looked up the number for the local Thai place I always ordered from.

“Thai okay?” I asked, glancing over at Hank as he pulled his shirt back on.

“Perfect,” he said, flashing me that easy smile I was quickly becoming addicted to. “I could go for some Pad Thai.”

I placed the order, my stomach growling at the thought of all my favourite dishes arriving soon. Once the food was on its way, we settled onto the couch, the atmosphere between us relaxed, almost cozy. I tucked my legs up beneath me, leaning back into the cushions as Hank sat next to me, close but not in that desperate, frantic way from before. Now, it felt natural.

“So,” I began, looking at him with curiosity. “You said before that you moved here from California?”

Hank nodded, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing my shoulder as he did. “Yeah, a small town just outside of San Francisco,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly nostalgic tone.

“Big change from San Francisco to New York,” I commented, raising an eyebrow. “What brought you here?”

He hesitated for a second, his eyes flicking down to his hands before meeting mine again. “It wasn’t exactly planned,” he admitted with a small shrug. “I moved here with my girlfriend at the time—an actress. But she left not long after we got here. I decided to stay, got a job tending bar, and… well, the rest is history.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully, sensing he was glossing over the details. “Come on, there’s got to be more to it than that.”

He paused for a moment, his smile fading slightly, as if deciding how much to share. “Alright,” he said finally, turning to face me a little more.

“You know I played baseball, right? I was supposed to go pro. Scouts were coming to my games, my parents were always in the stands… I had it all lined up.”

I nodded, feeling a twinge of sympathy, sensing where this was going.

“And then I broke my leg,” he said, his voice a little quieter now. “It wasn’t just a fracture—it was bad. Ended my career before it even started. After that… I kind of lost my way.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

Hank nodded, his expression softening. “It was. I didn’t really know what to do after that. Baseball was my whole world, and when it was gone… well, like I said, I kind of lost my way.”

I reached out, resting my hand on his arm, offering silent support.

“I got into cars for a while,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Started racing, fixing up a Mustang with my Dad. It gave me something to focus on, but it wasn’t the same. Then, one night, I was in a car accident. My best friend, Rich… he didn’t make it.”

My heart ached at the weight of his words, the pain he was carrying. “Hank, I’m so sorry.”

He gave a small nod, his expression tight. “Yeah, it’s been a long time, but… some things stay with you, you know? I haven’t driven since that night.”

I squeezed his arm gently, not sure what else to say. I could feel the weight of his past, the way it had shaped him, and it made me respect him even more.

“And after that?” I asked quietly.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I tried college for a while, bounced around a bit, but never finished. Eventually, I met the actress and now… well, here I am.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his past hanging between us. I could feel the pain in his words, the way he’d been carrying it all these years. But there was something else there, too—strength, resilience. He’d been through hell, but he was still standing.

“What about now?” I asked softly. “What keeps you going?”

Hank smiled again, though this time it was softer, more genuine. “I guess… I’ve found my place here, in a way. The bar’s not glamorous, but it works for me. I get to meet people, help out when I can. It’s not the life I imagined, but it’s good. I feel useful, and I’ve got friends who look out for me.”

His eyes met mine, and I could see the truth of it. He wasn’t where he thought he’d be, but he’d made a life for himself, one that was grounded in helping others and finding some measure of peace in the chaos.

“I think that’s pretty amazing,” I said softly.

Hank gave me a crooked smile, leaning in slightly. “You know, I don’t usually talk about this stuff. But with you… it feels different.”

I felt a warmth spread through me, his words settling somewhere deep in my chest. “I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me.”

For a moment, we just sat there, the space between us shrinking as something unspoken passed between us. It wasn’t just about the past—it was about the connection we were building, something neither of us had expected. And just as the weight of that connection settled over us, the doorbell rang, the scent of Thai food already teasing the air, gently pulling us back to reality.

Masterlist

[wolfjackle-creates]

Behind the Fortress Walls Chapter 4

We've finally got chapter 4 of my bang fic out! Only one more to go, holy shit.

Fic Summary:

Jazz is in love with Dick. He’s kind, considerate, and caring. Far and away the nicest person she’s ever dated. But she’s lying to him. About so, so much. And he’ll hate her once he learns the truth. Assuming he doesn't get tired of her canceling all their dates first. When Danny and Ellie go missing, the latest in a series of ghostly disappearances, she's forced to cancel another date. Going to Elmerton to meet up with Tucker and Sam, she will get Danny and Ellie back from the GIW no matter what it takes. Only...they aren't the only ones breaking in.

Chapter word count: 8.1k

There's an entire comic included with this chapter. Or you can find it on tumblr here.

The scene from the comic:

-----

The hallway ended in a thick metal door that had both electric and manual locks. Before Dick could even offer to take care of it, Tucker shrugged off his own backpack and pulled out a tool kit. Within moments, he had the casing off the keypad and was plugging his own PDA into the system.

Starfire hovered over his shoulder, looking down. “What is the purpose of the device you are using?”

Jazz could hear the smile in Tucker’s voice as he caressed his PDA. “Bethany here is my pride and joy, my child. She’s capable of anything.”

Sam snorted. “It’s a PDA. Not our kid, T— Pharaoh.”

Tucker made hushing noises and clutched Bethany to his chest. “Shhh, you didn’t hear that. Mommy loves you.”

“Just get the door open,” sighed Sam.

“Not until you apologize to our daughter!”

Sam took a deep breath to respond, but Danny interrupted before she could. “Just do it, Regrowth. Pharaoh and I put a lot of work into Bethany.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Bethany. I love you very much.”

Starfire grinned. “The machine is alive? It is nice to meet you, Bethany!”

Next to her, Jazz felt Dick shake with barely suppressed laughter. When she looked out of the corner of her eyes, she could tell he was biting back a smile.

Sam sighed. “She’s not alive. But Pharaoh and Phantom have been developing and upgrading her over the last several years. They’ve custom built half her parts and replaced the other half.”

Dick hummed in interest. “It looks like an old PDA case. Why didn’t you go for something more modern?”

For the first time that night, Danny grinned at Dick and Jazz felt something inside her relax. “PDAs were what we could afford as teenagers without real jobs. Plus they have bigger casings than modern smart phones; more room to fit more hardware. Beth’s battery lasts weeks.”

Starfire laughed. “Cyborg wishes to know if you would agree to the sharing of specs.”

Tucker practically squeaked at the question and Jazz bit back her own laugh. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Absolutely. He really wants to see?”

“Pharaoh,” said Dick, “if you allow it, he wants to spend at least a week with you figuring out how the tech these guys use works.”

Tucker looked down at Bethany and began typing. “I mean, sure. I’d love to. But if that’s what he wants, D would really be better. He’s the hardware guy, I’m the software guy.”

A moment later, the keypad beeped and they heard a click.

“All right, electronic locks are open. Nightwing, mind getting the rest of them?”

Dick grinned as he sauntered up to the door and pulled out his lock picks again. This door took longer than the first, but even so, it was open in just a minute or two. Dick bowed as he pulled the door open and gestured them through.

He revealed a fairly small room, in the center of which sat what looked like a large boiler with a monitor affixed to it. The glowing green wires spread out of the machine and disappeared into the walls, ceiling, and floor.

-----

Hope you enjoy the chapter!

[tangledinink]

I told y'all I was still working on this project! >:3c Chapter 26 of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is out! Thank you so so so much to everyone recently who's taken the time to comment/send asks/etc etc etc, it makes me very happy... ; w ; The Hamatos are slowly improving upon their ninja skills, and the latest mission goes off without a hitch...! Mostly...? Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

If you had tried to describe this scene to April a few months back, there’s no way she would have ever believed it. Hell, if you had tried to describe it to her a few weeks ago, she still probably wouldn’t have believed it, because the concept was just so… alien. Even after she knew about her brothers’ ‘mutant origins,’ it still felt alien. She couldn’t help but see them as anything but… people! Those were just her brothers. And the right way to see them was just the way she had always known them; as humans. And seeing them in ‘turtle mode,’ as Mikey had taken to calling it, felt so strange and uncomfortable. Not just because she wasn’t used to it, but because she knew that they weren’t used to it, and the way they had held themselves just always seemed so… unhappy. Like their own skin was burning them. She couldn’t help but look at them and the way they moved and how they held themselves and think, oh my god, they’re sick. Something is wrong. I have to help them. I have to take care of them. 

But jesus, the way Mikey moved now? It was the most natural thing in the world. It was like he had been this way his entire life, and he couldn’t possibly seem more comfortable or at ease. All April could really think was, wow. He’s in his element, isn’t he?

She had been vaguely aware of this new ‘thing’ the guys were working on for a while, but this was the first time they actually tried it out for-real-for-real, out in the field, on some low-stakes outing. There wasn’t even a Dark Armor piece here or anything; they were just staking the place out because Foot Shack merchandise trucks came in and out of this parking garage a lot, and they were looking into it, just in case. Just practice, more than anything, with Raph leading the way and Yoshi once again on standby…

It was just so fluid. April watched in silent awe as her littlest brother slipped in and out of two different bodies like water, seamlessly transitioning from one to the other as he moved. Five fingers would be conjured to undo a latch on a grate, and then tucked back away again as if they had never been there. He’d flit from form to form to match each shadow and blend in. 

At one point, even, when they were ascending a fire escape, making their way up to the roof to get a bird’s eye view, Mikey misstepped and he slipped-- and he fell. Every single person had jumped for a moment, and April could tell that all her brothers were about ready to dive after him. She was, too.

But they didn’t need to.

He was tucked into the safety of his shell before he even hit the ground.

And by the time the hard carapace was bouncing back up after smacking against the pavement, eliciting only a short clack with the impact, he was a human again, his feet under him, jumping back onto the fire escape to catch up again as if nothing had ever happened.

Raph and Leo were doing it, too, but… God. Not like Mikey.

But April had to admit-- even Raph and Leo were beginning to get the hang of it. They all were.

Well… All of them except for Donnie.

“You know,” she mumbled at some point once they got to the top of the roof, heaving her way upwards. Donnie reached over to grab her arm, helping hoist her the rest of the way up. “If either of us fell, we’d be totally screwed.”

“Yes, well,” they muttered in a deadpan. “Just trying to offer some solidarity to you, our sole human team member. I know it must be very difficult to be a minority.”

April scoffed softly, but didn’t push it.

Leo grinned big, stretching his arms over his head as the whole group made their way up to the rooftop. “Okay, uhhh, I don’t wanna jinx it--”

“Then don’t--” Donnie hissed.

“But this is actually going, like, really well?”

“Why would you say that?” Donnie sighed deeply, shaking his head. 

“Oh, psh. As if you believe in all that, anyway,” Leo scoffed, waving him away with a flick of his wrist. “I’m just saying, like, we’re kind of being badasses!”

“All we’re doing is sneaking around an empty parking garage,” Donnie pointed out dryly, quirking a brow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not exactly high stakes.”

“See, Dee, this is your problem,” Leo sighed, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his hip. “You’re always focused on the negatives…!”

“Both of you shut up,” Raph said. “Leo is right--”

“HAH! Suck it--”

“Shut up,” Raph pressed, smacking a large palm over his little brother’s face in order to quiet him. “He’s right that we did good. Or. Well. We’re doin’ good so far. And Dee, nice job figurin’ out the bracelet thing! It’s way easier to swap back and forth without having to actually take it off.”

Donnie puffed up his chest a bit, seeming smug. “Yes, well, it isn’t a terribly complicated mechanism, it just took a bit of studying for me to unravel, truly no great feat--”

“Don’t get carried away,” April mumbled, leaning over to hip-check her brother briefly. Donnie huffed.

“Sooooo… now what do we do?” Mikey asked, turning to glance over the side of the roof, resting his elbows on the ledge. “‘Cause, uhhh, no offense? But this place is… suppperrrr boring!”

“Well,” Raph said, seeming a bit unsure of himself. “We, uh… We didn’t find anything evil or anythin’. Which is good! So I guess we…”

“Document the hell out of everything!” Donnie declared happily, moving to join Mikey’s side with a grin. “Snag pictures of the layouts, all exits and entrances, stairwells, and anything else that may be pertinent, and I can reverse engineer blueprints of the entire place with some beta software I have back home-- this would be the perfect chance to try it out. And then, if anything evil does ever happen here, we will be completely prepared!”

“Uh, yeah!” Raph agreed after just a beat of hesitation. “What Donnie said! That’s what we’re doing.”

“Impeccable leadership as always, dear Raphala,” Donnie sang, wasting no time at all in slinging his backpack from his back, beginning to unpack a cacophony of tech. “Now, I have HD, nightvision, two different drones, one macro and one micro, body cams, magnetic sonogram machines, patent pending, and a RED, which no, Mikey, you may not touch--”

“Aw, what!? No fair!”

“Ask Dad for your own!”

“But you already have one--”

April sighed deeply, rolling her eyes and resisting an exasperated smile. Oh boy. Donnie came prepared prepared.

That meant… This might take a while.

---

Casey had been told her entire life that she was too loud.

So she was well aware of the fact.

Her mother had told her, back when she was in contact with her. Her teachers had told her, back when she went to school. And her Senseis had told her, too, over and over again, gently informing her each time her volume got away from her that she needed to dial it back a bit. She was aware. She knew she was too loud.

But no one ever had anything to say when she was quiet.

Because she was capable. She had dedicated years of her life training to be a ninja-- obviously, she could be quiet. And really, she had always known how to be quiet. She had been good at it ever since she was small. 

It was just that when she was quiet, no one ever had anything to say.

No one ever looked at her when she was quiet.

She’d fade away.

So it was easy, really, to find hiding places around the Foot’s hideout any time she had free time on her hands to burn away. She was quite good at tucking herself into little cracks and crevices, and always had been. The layout of their base really only lent to this. And she had only gotten better at it as time passed.

Perched up on the catwalk, curled up small and bent over, she could watch members of the Foot returning from their latest mission, greeted excitedly by the rest of their clan. They had been gone for some time now-- one of the many elite strike teams sent out to fetch more far-flung armor pieces. They weren’t all just conveniently clustered in New York, after all. 

They had started sending these teams out months ago. And now, one by one, they all slowly returned, each with another piece of the armor in hand to add to their growing collection.

Every day, they got closer. She could feel the energy in the air, ever pitching higher and sharper the closer they got to their goal. Even her senseis were infected by it, brighter than she had ever seen them before.

And that was amazing. That was wonderful.

She remembered the praise she had gotten after that one mission-- after she faced down the Hamato Clan in a department store of all places. How pleased they had been with her. And god, that had been amazing.

But now she simply resented its absence. 

And even though she had always known that there wasn’t really any chance that she’d be sent to join any of these special teams-- to be sent out to join them in the field and contribute to something greater, to be a true part of the clan and show them what she could do… 

Every time another came back, it just sealed the reality of the matter that that door had closed. And she wasn’t going anywhere.

---

“Donnie, seriously--”

“What!? Do you want the 3D model to be accurate, or don’t you!?” He cried, whipping around to face her, and April groaned loudly, dragging her hands down her face.

“Why do we need a 3D model again!? Just make a blueprint!”

“Ah, yes, well, I could…” Donnie said, spinning on his heels with a grin. “But why have an inferior, two-dimensional recreation of a space when I could make a far superior, three-dimensional recreation!? That’s a whole entire other dimension!”

“Donnie!” April barked, scowling. “We have been here for hours. Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“No, not really.”

“Well how about you check!?”

“Fine, fine, yes, the time is approximately-- Oh, sweet Galileo. Is it actually that late?”

“Yes!” All four of his siblings chorused, and Donnie scowled, a little pout blossoming on his face.

“... But… My model…”

“Donnie, you’ve already documented nearly every square inch of this place--”

“I’m sure the model will be fine, Purple,” Yoshi’s voice crackled over the radio. “It is time to go home.” 

Donnie sighed deeply, giving a dramatic heave of his chest… but he reluctantly began to pack his gear away. “Okay, okay, fine. I will concede. But if there comes a time when we are in desperate need of a one-hundred-percent accurate third-dimensional model of this establishment, I hope you will all be prepared to eateth thy--”

“Shush. We’re on a stealth mission, remember?” Raph muttered, swiping at his head lightly. “C’mon, you guys. Leo, wake Mikey up, let’s go.”

Leo sighed, allowing the video he was playing on his phone to wrap up before he pocketed it, beginning to nudge his younger brother, curled up and slumped against him.

“C’mon, Angie, we’re going home,”

“Whaaaaa…” Mikey mumbled, blearily beginning to open his eyes-- blinking away the few stray rays of orange light that fluttered around his eyelashes even when he was just dozing. “Did we… win…?”

“Yep, we totally won. C’mon. Get up.”

Raph sighed deeply. “Do you want me to carry--?”

“No! I can do it!” Mikey woke up properly now, quickly scrabbling up to his feet. 

April sighed deeply. “My parents are going to kill me for being out this late,” she grumbled. “And when they kill me, I’m killing all of you, just for the record!”

“Don’t kill me! Kill Donnie!” Leo protested.

“Oh, like any of you were keeping track of time and keeping him from going totally Donnie about this whole thing!”

“Hey--”

“Neither were you,” Mikey pointed out, and April scowled, grinding her teeth.

Dammit.

She hated when he had a point. 

“Whatever. C’mon, let’s get out of here,” she said with a huff. “You good, Donnie?”

“All set,” he replied, tossing his bag back over his shoulder. “Let us bounce.”

And so they did. 

The good news was that Leo was getting a lot better about this whole portalling thing with the help of the weird mystic sword he had! Which was cool, so the commute home? So do-able! 

The bad news was that it was still way past her curfew. She quietly cursed herself for letting them be out so late. She hadn’t even realized the time until she glanced at her phone and noticed all the texts… and the missed calls.

“You good, April?” Raph questioned, frowning a bit as she hurriedly gathered her things, having traded her certified Ninja Gear for street clothes, quickly shoving things into her bag and toeing on her shoes.

“I’m fine, it’s all good,” she muttered.

“Do you want me to walk you home…?” Yoshi questioned, his brows furrowed. “I’m sure I could talk to your parents--”

“It’s fine, Yosh. Don’t worry about it. They’re chill! They probably, like… barely noticed I’m late!” She said, forcing a smile.

“Alright, well, if you need anything--”

“Right! Got it, thanks, bye!” She chirped, throwing herself out the door and slamming it shut behind her before she could look at their sad, guilty faces any more. Ugh. It wasn’t their fault, really. I mean, it was, but no more than it was her own. 

I should have set an alarm, she thought bitterly.

On a stealth ninja mission? So it can go off in the middle of you trying to sneak past a bad guy or something? Yeah, brilliant plan, she thought immediately after.

When April quietly crept back into her own apartment, slipping her key into the side door, the house seemed quiet. The kitchen lights were off, and there was no screaming or yelling right off the bat. That was a good sign.

The living room lights, however, she could already see from here… were on. That was a less good sign.

Drawing in one last deep breath, she darted the rest of the way inside, bumping the door closed with her hip.

“Hey, guys, I’m home…!”

“April!” Her mom responded to the call almost immediately, and half a second later, April was no longer alone in the kitchen. Warm yellow light flooded the space as a light switch was clicked on, and April winced slightly, blinking a few times to adjust. “There you are-- where in the world have you been?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“Uh, yeah, my bad!” She laughed nervously, throwing her hands up as if to surrender. “Kinda lost track of time, uh, I was just over at the Hamatos doing homework and stuff…”

“Oh, were you?” That was her dad, now, and April winced a tiny bit at the tone he used, which meant that she had fucked up. “Because we went over knocking on their door ten minutes ago to come and get you, and no one answered.”

Oop. Fuck. 

“Oh, yeah, we ran over to the corner store to get some snacks, so…?”

“In the middle of the night? By yourself?” Her mom protested, and April huffed softly, rolling her eyes.

“Uh, no? I literally just said that I went with the Hamatos--”

“Hey! Watch the attitude, miss,” her dad immediately cut in, and April winced. “I don’t think you have any room to be being huffy at us when you’re coming home two hours past curfew, and wouldn’t pick up your phone… Do you have any idea how many times we called you!?!”

“I’m sorry!” She said, throwing up her hands. “I forgot I had it on silent, I just, I wasn’t looking at the clock…!”

“For two hours?” Her mom cried. April bit the inside of her cheek, feeling her stomach flip-flop in response to the slight crack in her mother’s voice. “April, baby, you-- you can’t do that! This isn’t okay!”

“It was an accident--!”

“You can’t just disappear!” She continued. “You can’t just leave us not knowing where you are, we can’t--!”

“I know! I know, I’m sorry, okay? It was an accident!” April pressed, her face flushed. “I know, okay? I really, really didn’t mean to…! I just… I wasn’t paying attention. Okay?”

She frowned, wrinkling up her nose and glaring at her feet.

“Sorry.”

For a few long moments, the kitchen was silent. 

Her father heaved a long, shuddering sigh.

“No more phone on silent,” he finally said. “When we text or call you, we expect you to answer right away. Understood?”

“... Yeah. Okay,” April grumbled softly, kind of toeing at the kitchen tile. She was sure Donnie could help her… figure out a way to make that work when they were out on missions and stuff… 

“And this is the last time you miss curfew,” he added in, his eyes narrowed. “Full stop. We are not doing this again. Understood?”

“... Yeah.”

“April.”

“Yes. Understood, Dad,” she sighed loudly, tilting her head back and resisting the urge to roll her eyes, frustration prickling at her stomach. 

“... Go to bed,” her dad finally said, his arms still crossed over his chest. “And you come straight home after school tomorrow.”

“Wha-- but Dad! I was gonna--”

“Do not argue with me April O’Neil,” he snapped. “Bed. Now. We’re not discussing this any further.”

April really, really thought about discussing it further.

But she didn’t.

For a lot of reasons. One being that she valued her life and freedom.

The other being that she couldn’t stand to look at her mom’s face anymore. Not when she was staring at her like that.

It wasn’t like she had never lied to her parents before. Of course she had! What teen doesn’t? She had fibbed about plenty of things before. Yes, I did brush my teeth already. No, I didn’t unlock all the parental controls on the computer. Yes, I am going to Bailey’s to study for chemistry and not anywhere else or for any other reason. Etc. etc. etc. 

But she had never lied… like this before.

April ground her teeth, kicking her door shut as she threw her bag down, flopping down onto her bed and burying her face into the nearest pillow with a scowl. She suddenly felt unwelcome tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she tried to will them away, though with mixed success. 

A little part of her thought, they’d understand if you explained everything to them.

But a much larger part of her said, are you literally insane? 

Because, really… how do you explain something like this? How would she even begin? What would she say? And even if she did try, even if she did think it was a good idea, even if she did want to, she…

She couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t her secret to tell. 

April had known Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey since she was six. She used to go over to their house every day after school until her parents came home. Their families went on day trips together. They celebrated holidays together. Her parents knew the Hamatos nearly as well as they knew her. They had always had this… weird, amazing blend of Hamato and O’Neil, pressed close in such a way that it was hard to see where one started and the other began sometimes.

And she had always loved that. She had always adored this.

But she had never felt a pull like this before.

She had never felt like she had to choose between being an O’Neil or a Hamato before.

---

“Daddy!” April shrieked.

She waited a moment, pausing to see if she’d get a reply, but after five seconds passed without a response, she breathed in deep, repeating the call with the volume cranked up.

“Daddy!”

That one worked. Her dad’s head popped out from the apartment a moment later, peering through the door that was always kept propped open when she played in the alley like this. “I’m comin, I’m comin, baby, hang on--”

“Come look!” April bade, waving her arms hurriedly. “Hurry up!”

“I’m hurrying! I’m hurrying!” Her dad laughed, quickly toeing on some sneakers before venturing out into the concrete jungle, half-jogging his way over to where she was crouched in the alley, moving to squat down next to her.

“What? What is it?”

“Lookit what I found!” She squeaked excitedly, pointing to a single feather resting on the asphalt. “Look! A feather!”

“Oh, wow! Good find, sunshine.”

“Can I pick it up!?”

“... Yeah, okay, so long as you wash your hands afterward.”

April absolutely wriggled with excitement, immediately snatching the feather up from the ground, turning it over in her hands a few times to examine. One side of it was this pale, cloudy gray, all fluffy and soft, but the other side was a sleek, shiny shade of cobalt blue. Just holding it made her grin, and she looked up at her dad with wide eyes.

“What kinda feather is it?”

“I dunno,” her dad said, shrugging a bit, resting his elbows on his knees. “But I bet we could find out.”

---

“Casey.”

Casey whined softly, curled up a bit further under the covers. Was it time for school already…? But she didn’t wanna get up…

“Hey. C’mon, Casey. Wake up.”

Wait, wasn’t it a Saturday…?

“Noooo…”

“No?”

“Noooooo.”

“What’s wrong, Case?”

“I’m sleeping, Daddy…”

“Oh, you’re sleeping?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” her father exclaimed with faux surprise, drawing back slightly. “Well, if you’re sleeping, and you don’t want to go hiking up on Newton Hill with me--”

Casey’s eyes shot open.

“You’re going out into the woods?!” She gasped, immediately upright in bed, her eyes wide.

“I am,” her dad confirmed, this big, wide grin growing on his face. “I was hoping you’d come with me, but, I mean, if you’re still sleeping…”

“No! No, I’m awake!” She squeaked, just barely managing to contain herself and keep her volume down. She threw her covers back, scrambling quickly from bed. “I swear I’m awake! Please can I come hiking with you?!”

Her dad laughed.

“Ah, how can I say no to that face?” He teased, reaching down to ruffle her hair. “Hurry up and get dressed, sunshine, and let’s get out of here.”

---

April gasped, jumping over her dad’s arm so that she could point at the screen of his laptop.

“That one! That’s the feather!” She exclaimed. “It looks just like ours!”

“Hmmm…” Her father hummed appraisingly, leaning into slightly to squint, before he gave a firm nod. “I do concur, April, I think that is our feather! Here, let’s double-check. Are the colors the same?”

“Yeah!” April said, grinning wide as she held the feather up. “Look! It’s the same blue.”

“And the same shape, right?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And we measured it--”

“And it’s twelve centimeters! Look, Daddy! It’s this one!” She insisted, and her father laughed. 

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. Definitely our feather.”

“What bird is it!?”

“According to this, it’s a mallard feather.”

“A mallard?” April echoed. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of duck!”

“A duck!?” April cried, her eyes widening, holding her prize up in amazement. “This is a duck feather!?”

“It sure is, sunny girl.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool!” 

“You know,” her dad said. “I bet if we went down to the park, we might be able to find some more feathers…” 

---

Cassandra was absolutely alight with energy, bouncing from foot to foot as she scampered around, practically doing laps around her dad. The drive over had been equal parts exhilarating and tortuous, with Casey wriggling in her car seat the entire time, her face pressed up against the window.

This was her favorite thing in the world.

She loved Newton Hill.

“Daddy, I wanna go all the way to the top!!!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down, grabbing onto his pants leg to yank at him.

“All the way to the top?” He echoed dramatically.

“Yes!”

“Alright, you got it,” he hummed, fishing something from his pocket before kneeling down next to her. “All the way to the top. I think we can do it.”

“We can,” Casey agreed excitedly, leaning against his knee and leaning over slightly so she could peer at the item in his hands.

“Alright. Let’s do it,” her dad enthused. “But first-- I have got a job for you, Casey.”

Casey blinked in surprise as her father pressed the stopwatch into her palm, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“I have a job?”

“You have a job,” he confirmed. “You are gonna be in charge of timing us.”

“Timing us?”

“Yep! Here, you press this button to start the time-- and this button to end it. And you--” He pointed to her decisively, this big, mischievous grin on his face. “Are gonna find out how long it takes us to get from here to the top of the trail.”

Casey tilted her head to the side.

“Why?”

“Because,” her father declared, his hands on his hips as he rose back up to his feet. “David from work bet that I couldn’t get all the way up to the top in four hours. So now I’ve gotta prove him wrong.”

Casey stared at her father for a second.

And then she gasped.

“He bet we couldn’t do the whole trail in four hours!?” She shrieked in offense.

“He sure did, Case.”

“HOW DARE HE!” She wailed, throwing her head back.

This was the other best part of Newton Hill. She could be as loud as she wanted out here.

“Exactly!” Her father sighed, throwing out his hands with a dramatic shake of his head. “I knew you’d understand. So obviously, we have to show him up! You up for the challenge, sunshine?”

“Yes!” She cried, immediately setting off-- hesitating only long enough to run back, grabbing onto her dad’s pants leg and yanking at him. “Come ON! Hurry up! We are gonna WIN! Let’s GO!”

---

“Come on! Hurry up! Let’s go!” April squealed, yanking at her Dad’s hand impatiently. “Look! I see one!”

“I’m coming, April, I’m coming!” Her dad laughed, jogging slightly to keep up with the enthusiastic five-year-old. “Hang on, sunshine.”

April darted across the lawn, hopping over wayward twigs or stones until she got to the water’s edge, waving her arms excitedly as she knelt down to pluck the feather from the ground.

“Look!” She said, beaming as she turned to show her dad. “Do you think it’s another duck feather?!”

“Might be. Or it could be a goose.”

“I hope it’s a goose,” April said, scampering her way back over to her dad, who knelt down to hold open the ziploc baggie for her. April deposited the feather inside, along with the several other specimens they had already collected. “We already have a duck feather.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’ll be a different kind of duck,” her dad countered, zipping the baggie back up once their prize was safe inside. April paused at this, tilting her head to the side slightly. Oh! Another kind of duck? She hadn’t even thought about that!

“Well, then, I hope it’s a different kind of duck. Or a goose,” she declared, grinning big. “When we get back home, can we show Mommy all the feathers?”

“Of course we can,” her dad said. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled for you to show her. Especially if you can tell her which feather is which!”

“I will. I’m gonna look it up. I’m gonna do research,” April declared proudly, grinning as she spun around on her heel. “Come on! We gotta find some more. I wanna have a bunch for mommy.”

---

Casey froze in place, her body going rigid as a tiny little gasp caught itself in her throat.

“Daddy!” She whispered, her voice hushed, but fervent. “Daddy, lookit! Under the rock!”

After hiking for two hours now, Casey only occasionally electing to ride on her dad’s shoulders rather than racing up the trail, poking at every leaf, stone, and mushroom they came across, the pair had finally elected to take a break, settling down on the stones of a creekbed to rest and munch on the snacks her father had packed along. The stopwatch she was wearing around her neck was still ticking away-- but they were making good time. Certainly enough time to catch their breath.

And it was here that Casey spotted a tiny black-and-yellow snake-- just barely poking its head from beneath the shadows of a stone just inches away from them. Its little pink tongue flicked out a few times as it examined the world hesitantly, turning its head from side to side, as if checking for something.

“Whoa!” Her dad breathed, keeping care to keep his voice soft once he spotted the creature. He slowly moved to place a hand on her shoulder, patting her gently. “Nice eye, Casey.”

“It’s a real snake!”

“It is.”

“What kind is it?”

“Probably a garter snake, I’d bet,” he whispered, grinning ever so slightly. “I bet he wants to come out and sun himself on the rocks.”

“Why?”

“Reptiles are cold-blooded, Casey. They’ve gotta warm themselves up with the sun, or else they get too cold.” 

“Oh,” she said, her eyes wide. “... He’s so cool…”

“He is,” her dad agreed, shooting her a small grin. “Good job, sunshine. I never even would have noticed that little guy! I would have totally missed him.”

Casey absolutely beamed. “Really?”

“Yep!” He confirmed, chuckling softly, leaning over to ruffle her long black hair, carding his fingers through it briefly. “But you’re so smart, of course you saw it… Alright. You ready to get moving again? I bet that little dude would be pretty excited if he got to come out in peace and warm himself up.”

She nodded excitedly, wasting no time at all in beginning to get herself back to her feet. Despite all the running and jumping and climbing she had already done, she was suddenly filled with energy once more.

“I’m ready, Daddy!”

---

“And this one is a pigeon…”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“And this is a pigeon…”

“I see…”

“And this one a pigeon feather, too…”

“Ah…”

“And this is a starling!”

“Oh!”

“And this is a pigeon!” April exclaimed excitedly, spreading the feathers out on the paper towel slightly, grinning big. “... There are a lotta pigeon ones.”

“That does make sense,” her mom said, smiling a tiny bit. “Thank you so much for showing me, baby! This is so impressive! I can’t believe you found all of these all by yourself!”

“Nu-uh!” April protested, turning to grin big up at her mother. “Daddy helped me! Except for the first one. I found that one all on my own.”

“Well, then, good job to your Daddy, too,” her mom remarked, and April just caught her shoot a smile across the kitchen to her dad, who was busy preparing dinner. He smiled a tiny bit, too. 

“I’m gonna make a chart for them and stuff. In a book,” she declared proudly, beginning to climb her way up into her mom’s lap, absolutely beaming as she did so.

“April, sweetheart, you need to wash her hands--”

“Will you help me make it? Pleasseeee? I wanna make it look cool.”

---

Casey was so tall. 

Every time they got all the way up here, to the very top of the hill, up as high as they could go, she would always think, wow. This is the tallest we can get. This is so tall. 

And then every time, her dad would pick her up and put her on his shoulders, and then she’d be even taller.

And it had only taken them three hours and forty-two minutes to get here.

“There’s not even any clouds!” Casey marveled, eyes absolutely sparkling as she leaned back slightly, clinging to her dad’s head to keep her balance. “It’s just blue!”

“Yeah, it’s a nice day, isn’t it? Perfect for hiking,” he declared, grinning. “Can you believe David said we couldn’t make it!?”

“David is WRONG!” She declared, just as loud as she possibly could, and she grinned at how her voice carried. It made her feel all shimmery. Her dad laughed.

“You wanna yell?”

“YES!” She gasped. “You do it, too! I wanna do it together!”

“Okay, okay. We’ll go on the count of three. You ready?”

“Mmm-hmmm!”

“Okay. One… Two…”

Casey took a deep breath in.

“Three!”

Throwing her head forward, her eyes shut tight and her hands balled into fists, Cassandra reached as deep into her little six-year-old chest as she could possibly reach, and she dredged up the biggest, longest, loudest howl that she could possibly conjure. It always hurt her throat a little, but it never hurt more than it felt good. It made her entire body vibrate. And her dad was screaming, too, holding onto her hands with his own big ones, the two of them harmonizing together as they screamed out into the woods from the top of the hill, their voices echoing out into the sky.

She kept going until there was no more left in her, running out of air entirely and left with just shaking, heaving breaths, her shoulders trembling as she panted.

And for a second, both of them were both quiet. And then finally, her dad chuckled, tossing his shoulders a few times to jostle her slightly.

“One of these days, you’re gonna shatter my eardrums, sunshine. I hope you know that,” he laughed, and Casey just grinned, hanging onto him.

“I like yelling,” she hummed.

And for a bit longer, it was quiet again. 

Just the two of them on the top of the world.

And then Dad’s cellphone began to ring. 

Casey paused, frowning slightly as she watched her father fish the device from his pocket, glancing at the screen and scoffing in such a way that Casey already knew who was on the line.

“Damn. Too bad we still have service up here, huh?” He tsked, and Casey frowned.

“Don’t be mean to mommy,” she muttered petulantly. “I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, Casey. My bad,” he sighed, crouching down so he could ease her down off his shoulders and back onto her own two feet. “Here. Just gimme two seconds to talk to her, okay?”

“Can I talk to her when you’re done?” She asked, and Dad hesitated.

“Uh, maybe! Lemme just talk to her real quick first and see what she wants. I promise it’ll be fast. Here, hang on. You can time me, okay?” He said, returning the stopwatch back to her hands. “Think you can do that?”

“Yeah…”

“Good girl. I’ll be right back,” Dad said, offering her one last crooked smile before turning away, looping off a few paces before finally picking up his phone.

“Hello?”

“Yeah?--”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, we just went up hiking--”

“I know that, but it’s just one day. Yeah, I know that… I’m going to!”

“She loves it up here!”

“I will, just-- Could you please just listen to me?-- No, I didn’t--”

Casey frowned. She settled down to sit in the grass and hit the ‘start’ button on the stopwatch.

[ next ]

[tempenensis]

Hi Lele. For now seems that Gojo's character is finished, what thoughts do you have about him? I saw different opinions about it and from different extremes, people who believe that "his character arc was ruined and he never had growth", or "he's a very complicated and contradictory character", or "everything he was, did, didn't, motivated him, his whole character basically revolved around Geto", and people who believe "there is a possibility that he will return", etc.

I think he's a pretty complex character, and multi-faceted at that. Although Sensei commented that he "doesn't have personality", Gege accidentally actually makes Gojou more complex than what he actually seems lol.

I would disagree with "he never had a growth" actually. Gojou had a growth phase - that is the whole Hidden Inventory arc is about. He matured during that arc to be the Gojou that we know in the current storyline. So it's not that he never had a growth, he already did and what we get more is adult Gojou who had finished his growth.

I would agree actually with Nanami's comment, that Gojou is "a pervert who uses jujutsu for his own sake" (yes, he straight up called Gojou hentai in the jpn text lol). Since he's the strongest in jujutsu society, his ego would center on using jujutsu for his own satisfaction. But that's not all of him; he is also a teacher who cares for his students because he wants to see them grow strong, despite his motivation for them growing strong is rather egoistical too. And you can see here, that his character is a mixed of egoistical but also caring -- simply said, pretty human for one called to be strongest.

In jjk, to be strongest means to be alone. To stand on the peak that no other ever see, that no other ever feel. The only people who understand the feeling is the one who also reach that peak. For beings like Sukuna and Gojou, seeing others is like them standing alone on top of the tallest mountain, looking down at people who don't even have the motivation to even glance at the peak - because noone would ever want to try to compete to be the strongest while those two are around. This is the flowers metaphors that appears on the latest chapter; that you can grow the flowers but you can't ask them to understand. Gojou will help his students, people around him, caring and making them stronger, but he can't never ask them to try to reach for that highest peak, to that loneliness of being the strongest. They can't never understand how it feels to be a beings like him or Sukuna.

"his whole character basically revolved around Geto" - well, just no. Yeah, he holds Geto in high regard, but if he really does anything for Getou's sake, then he'd join Getou's case in destroying jujutsu society. But as we see, he doesn't. He becomes a teacher because he wanted to change jujutsu society so no one would become another Getou, not because of Getou's sake, but rather the sake of younger generation. So that he can prevent another youth being wasted by the jujutsu society tradition; which is why he picks up the most "troublesome" students that jujutsu society least cares for; from Maki, Yuta, Inumaki, even Yuuji.

"there is a possibility that he will return" -- this is oddly specific, but did their brain can still move the feet? Did they get a flashback-kinda chapter? If the answer is no and yes, then I'm sorry; they most likely won't come back.

[gracelaurie]

Lover | Patrick Wilson x Fem!reader

(SEQUEL)

previous part click here CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2

Summary : You and Patrick had a one night stand a few months ago. And now you’re 6 months pregnant. You don't expect to meet the father of your child because you’re a woman who prefers to be alone. But fate said otherwise, you meet again with the father who made your stomach grow big.

And you stupidly didn’t know that he was an actor.

Warning : smut, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, breeding kink.

It's been 6 weeks since the birth of your twins. Of course Patrick which the father of your baby…has his responsibility, not only focusing his attention on your babies but also he takes care of you.

He took a full 1 month off work after you gave birth. You feel safe with him, in his house in New Jersey. You decided to stay with Patrick because you realized that taking care of two twins born in your own womb was more difficult than taking care of your uncle’s baby twins.

Your belly started to shrink, but not completely. You don’t really care about your appearance, all you think about is your children. In the last 2 weeks, Patrick has started shooting for the Conjuring 4 film project.

You don’t blame him for that. Patrick was actually worried about leaving you alone to work, but you tried to convince Patrick that you were fine and you could take care of your children at home. Although sometimes Patrick likes to come home late at night, even coming home the next morning.

You try to understand and don’t want to burden him. After all, you are both just dating, not yet a married couple.

That night, as usual, Patrick came home late. You are just overwhelmed with taking care of your two babies who have difficulty sleeping and keep crying. but exactly at 11 o'clock they were fast asleep. and a few minutes later Patrick knocked on the door and you found him looking very tired.

“How’s the twins, hon?” Patrick asked then he walked towards the baby box and saw that your babies were fall asleep.

“It’s good that you see them when they’re calm and sleepy, not when they crying loudly.” You said and then Patrick kissed your forehead softly.

You quickly made him some tea as he sat on the sofa.

“Very tiring day, huh?” Patrick muttered then started to turn on the TV which displayed the latest news. “You must be very tired looking after our twins. I’m sorry, I wasn't here just now...”

“Patrick...” you replied, handing him the still warm cup of tea and sitting next to him, “you’re also tired from work and I would understand that.” You unbuttoned the top of Patrick's shirt so that Patrick wouldn't get hot.

“Would you still understand if I was forced to act in a romantic scene and kiss the lips of someone else?”said Patrick while lowering his head. You can see how frustrated he is.

You held his hand, “Patrick... you are a professional actor, that is your job. I don’t have a problem with that as long as you can keep your heart for me.”

“That’s not it,” said Patrick, looking straight into your eyes, “I feel I’m no longer be professional for doing that scene. The director said that I no longer have chemistry with Vera on screen. That’s a bad thing.

“...the kiss scene was re-recorded continuously because I couldn’t do it well. Even though the genre of the film is Horror, I couldn't do it.”

“Why?” a stupid word somehow comes out of your mouth even though you already know the answer.

“I’m getting more and more crazy about you,” said Patrick honestly. He looked at you with a pitiful face, “I’m too pushy to work even though I still want with you here. I...”

Patrick touched your cheek and rubbed it, “I love you.” a sentence that he had never said in a long time and finally said it.

You froze. You don’t know how to react. When you started to open your mouth, Patrick continued, “I really love you. I want to quickly finish the last film in the Conjuring trilogy so I can...”

Patrick stopped. He felt his mouth pulling him to say the next sentence. You raised an eyebrow, “so you can what?”

“So that I can,” Patrick mumbled, his voice getting deeper, his eyes darkening, “I can marry you, have all of you.”

You felt his lips meet yours. He kissed you gently then over time his kisses got hotter and Patrick’s mouth became more aggressive.

Patrick carried your body towards your bedroom. He kissed your lips then laid you down on the bed. You felt his soft hands slowly open your nightgown to admire every inch of your body.

“You’re so beautiful, hon,” Patrick couldn’t stop kissing your body. He kissed your belly, a belly that has given birth to his baby twins. He kissed your chest, then your nipples, he moved up to kiss your collarbone.

He inhales the scent of your musk perfume and you feel his breath rising and falling around your neck, “I've been waiting for this for a long time...” his left hand holds and squeezes your butt, while his right hand grabs your leg to move your body position.

He took off your panties slowly. You can feel one of his fingers on your clit and he rubs it. You’re moaning. And then Patrick starts to insert his two hands into your cunt while his thumb now takes over rubbing your clit.

He starts playing with his finger which controls your cunt. Your cunt is so wet, it soaks your sheets. You continued to moan, then you felt his tongue now rubbing your clit with fast movements. You moan louder as his tongue begins to lick your cunt deliciously.

“Patrick…” you said in a low voice. You couldn’t stop moaning because his tongue was moving faster and faster in your cunt, “Patrick, please...”

Patrick stopped, and he saw that your cunt had soaked almost half of your sheets. Patrick started to open the buckle and then the button of his trousers roughly, and he was now kissing your neck hungrily.

You groaned in pain as he started biting your neck. Both of your hands are now trying to unbutton Patrick’s shirt as his big hard cock now enters your wet cunt.

You can see Patrick’s perfect six pack body in front of you now. Patrick hugged your body, while speed up his fucking movements.

“I will fill your belly with my baby again,” said Patrick in a rough and deep voice. His blue eyes getting darker, looking at you with a look of hunger and lust, “I will make you suffer again because you have to carry my baby for 9 months.”

You shed tears because you felt his huge cock going in and out of your vagina with increasingly fast movements. You felt his breathing getting faster and rougher in your ear, “you understand that, hon? I will give you my baby again in your stomach.”

You nodded slowly. And then he smiled and kissed your lips, “good girl,”

Then he turns your body around, and now the position is doggy style. He inserts his hard cock into your cunt. He’s now riding you while both of your hands are held by him.

You moaned louder, then you felt his lips kiss the back of your neck gently, then slowly you felt his hand strangle your neck.

“Patrick...”you moaned in a low voice, his penis going in and out of your vagina from behind, “Patrick, I want to cum.”

Patrick’s hands squeezed your butt and hit it, “Wait, hon.”

He squeezed your ass, speeding up his movements making you even more overwhelmed and you groaning in pain but it was all worth it after you both cum together. He’s really cum in your wet cunt.

You’re both tired. Patrick takes out his cock then you can see his sperm is still spilling even though he has put it inside.

He laid his body and yours at the same time. He hugged you warmly from behind while both of your bodies were covered by the blanket now.

“That was amazing,” you said.

Patrick kissed your neck gently and tightened his embrace, “I love you, hon, I really love you.”

You smiled, “I love you too...” then you both drifted off to sleep in a sparkling night.

—

[starstruckkittensweets]

"Promise Me" | Gojo x Reader

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Words: 2.3k

A/N: no one talk to me, this is my way of coping with the latest chapter. This week is not a fun one for us Gojo lovers. Also this scenario has probably been written a thousand times at this point (thanks a lot Gege) but here's my two cents on the matter (go figure, my first official Gojo post and he's fuckin dead)

Warnings: JJK 236 SPOILERS, mentions of fem!reader, nightmares, brief mentions of violence/gore, pet names (baby, sweets, pretty girl), very self-indulgent and I apologize for that

Nightmares are a common occurrence in your line of work; you knew that even before you agreed to take the job. Usually you can stand them when they hit. Staring into the shadows of your bedroom, wide eyes raking over every little thing inside, too scared to even move a muscle. Knowing that, once you do, the illusion will vanish. The fear will go away, bit by bit, until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Till the next morning, when you can’t even remember what you were so afraid of.

But this time is different. Your body isn’t frozen at all; you don’t snuggle deeper into the blankets, praying that they’ll be enough to protect you from whatever creatures lurk in the night. In fact they’re suffocating—but even when you throw them off you’re still heaving like a madman. Cold sweat clamming up your skin. Hands trembling at your sides. Eyes nearly bursting from your skull when you realize the other side of the bed is empty.

Empty, empty—where is he? Where did he go?

Was your dream not actually a dream after all?

You’re shaking so hard when you force your way out of bed. Nearly toppling over your own two feet as you stumble out of the bedroom. The door’s cracked open, but there aren’t any lights on, where is he, where the fuck is he?!

Another step, round the corner, and suddenly you smack face first into something hard. A soft oof reaches your ears, and through the darkness and the veil of your tears, you can barely make out the two blue lights glowing at you from above.

“Whoa, careful! Sorry about that, almost didn’t see you there. What’re you doing up so late, baby?”

Your eyes are still blurry, no matter how many times you blink. But you can still see him, his hair messy from sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of old sweatpants. He offers a lazy smile, but it drops almost instantly when he sees the tears spilling down your burning cheeks.

“…Hey, what’s wrong?”

Maybe it’s the tender tone of his voice, the soft way he speaks those three simple words. Or maybe it’s the fact you can see his eyes dim ever so slightly, signaling he’s turned off his technique for the moment. Or maybe it’s just knowing that he’s here, still alive and breathing and in one fucking piece, that makes you lose control. (Not that you had very much to begin with, but still.)

He visibly jolts at the shrill wail that rips from your throat, his whole body rigid as you throw yourself against his chest. Tiny arms wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his muscular back. Almost as though you’re scared he’ll disappear, anchoring him to you with every bit of strength you have.

What does he do? You’re obviously in distress, but why? He’d just left to get a glass of water, he’d been gone for less than five minutes! And now you’re blubbering like a child into his bare chest, sobbing so loudly he’s surprised none of your neighbors have come banging on your door.

“Baby, come on,” he tries, but the pet name only seems to make you cry harder. He winces before taking hold of both your shoulders. He doesn’t bother trying to pry you away; no need to make you even more upset. “You gotta tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

Damn it, everything he’s saying is just making it worse. He hates seeing you cry like this. So tiny and frail, curling into his chest, incoherent words and noises spilling from your lips. You won’t answer him or let go of his body, no matter how many times he tries to convince you.

Does he just ride it out and let you finish? What if you pass out? Will you still remember any of this by the time you wake up tomorrow? Was it something he said earlier that made you this upset? He wracks his brain, trying to see if any of his earlier teasing struck a nerve within you. He doesn’t recall saying anything that could prompt this kind of reaction out of you…

Then again, what could? You’re his girl, his other half (as he’s quick to remind you and everyone else within earshot). Strong but soft, a capable sorcerer climbing the ranks with ease. You have an unshakeable character, sticking true to your values and morals no matter what. It’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place. Not just anything could resort you to a crying, trembling mess in his arms.

He sucks in a deep breath and tries again. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I promise I’ll make it all better, I swear!”

And he’s just about to bribe you with some of the sweets he’s stashed away in the kitchen when you lift your head from his chest. Cheeks hot and tearstained, and yet you’re still so beautiful.

“S-sorry,” you barely manage to choke out. Your throat’s practically on fire, and you can already feel a monster of a headache coming on. “I…I had…”

He doesn’t say anything. He simply wipes your tears away with his thumb, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“…I had a bad dream…”

It sounds so fucking childish when you say it out loud. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut, gone back to bed once you saw he was okay. What do you expect he’ll do about it, huh? Not like he can erase your bad memories, no matter how strong he might be.

But that hole in your chest is still there, even after all that crying—

And you can’t help it anymore. You press your palms to your face, desperately trying to rid your fact of all those tears. Wanting to save at least some of your dignity before the night’s over.

A pair of warm hands close over your wrists, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pulls your hands away. Exposing your teary, blubbering face to those beautiful blue eyes. The mere thought makes you want to cry all over again.

“C’mon now, you’re too pretty to cry like that.” The corner of his mouth is quirked up in a smile, his messy hair hanging over his eyes as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. He catches another tear on his thumb, making sure to wipe it away before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t like seeing you all upset like that.”

“B-but”—oh fuck, here you go again—“you were…you were dead!”

You can still remember everything so clearly. The blood trickling from his mouth. The glazed look in those dull eyes. How fucking fast it all seemed to happen. One moment he was fine, breathing and smiling as usual, and the next he was staring up at the sky. You didn’t even hear his body drop to the ground.

So much blood, it’s not supposed to be out of your body like that, why couldn’t I save you, why couldn’t—

“I’m sorry!” you blurt out, even as he takes you in his arms and pulls you against his chest. “I wasn’t enough to save you! You were dead and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it!”

You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, but for whatever reason, talking about this seems to help. Your chest feels a bit lighter than it did before, even if your heart’s as heavy as a stone.

“You’re not supposed to die! And I know that’s stupid of me to say, everyone dies at some point, but you always say you’re the strongest! No one can hurt you, even if they tried! So why—”

Your voice catches in your throat, tears still streaming down your face. He still holds you close, one arm around your waist, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

“…Why did you leave me? You said you’d never leave me, no matter what! But you did—and I let it happen—I’m so fucking sorry, Satoru, I just—”

You’re running out of steam, you can feel it in your bones. Too exhausted to cry anymore, probably too burnt out to even walk back to your room. But before you can even try he’s lifting your face in his hands, tracing your swollen lips with his thumb.

Smirking down at you like there’s nothing wrong in the world.

“Why are you sorry, sweets? If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Sorry that dream version of me was such a cheap imitation.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Like I’d let myself get killed like that.”

“S-Satoru, I’m serious!”

“And so am I.” And you can see it in his face—the way his eyes practically burn into yours, his mouth set in a tight line, his jaw clenched even when he forces out the words. “I said I’d never leave you, right?”

You sniffle out, “Y-yeah…”

“And I meant it. So no matter how many bad dreams you might have of me,” he curls his hands around your thighs and lifts you up effortlessly, securing your body against his chest, “just know that they’re dreams. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Slowly, he begins to carry you back to your room. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying their way into his soft white hair. You’ll never get over how strong he is, how amazing he is—and how of all the people in the world, he chose to share the rest of his life with you.

Not strong enough to save himself from dying.

Your throat fills with bile at the thought, even as he settles you back down against the mattress. Back in the place where your nightmare occurred, where you saw his body and all that blood—

“Don’t leave me!”                                      

“Baby, I wasn’t even planning on it.” Damn, this nightmare really messed with your head, huh? “I’m staying right here with you, alright?”

You won’t disappear on me again? You won’t leave me alone like you did in that dream, right?

He seems to see right through you, given the soft expressing in those dazzling blue eyes. “I promise, I won’t leave your side. Not tonight, not ever.”

It takes a few moments for the two of you to get situated in bed; Satoru ends up having to do most of the work, since your arms and legs are still trembling uncontrollably. But the second the blankets are back around you, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. Long legs tangling with yours, his breath warm against the crown of your head.

Lips soft as they press a thousand kisses to your forehead.

“I don’t know what kind of curse you dreamt of, but if I ever came across something like it one of these days…” He leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “…I’d win, hands down.”

“You’d better.” Your head’s pounding something fierce, every bone in your body screaming for some proper rest. And it starts to feel normal, being wrapped up in Satoru’s arms. “…Otherwise, I’d have to kick your ass.”

He lets out a laugh before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His long eyelashes tickle your skin, his lips sweet and warm when they finally find your own.

“I’m sure you would. Although, I’d never let that happen; I’ll make sure to win every single fight, I swear! Don’t wanna make my pretty girl worry about me.”

But you’re always going to worry about him. It’s in your blood, comes with the territory of keeping this relationship alive. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe he is strong enough to never have to worry about himself in a fight. But there’s always going to be that part of you that wonders if he’s going to make it home tonight.

You tilt your head, eager to taste his lips again. Like your life depends on it, and the thought makes him smirk.

“Aww, can’t get enough of me, sweets?”

“…Shut up.”

But he knows he’s right. And you know he’s right. Doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud, though.

“You know I meant it, right?” Suddenly he’s holding your face again, brushing his nose against your own. His voice strangely soft as he leans in close, warm breath ghosting over your face. “’M not leaving you. Never, ever, ever!”

That gets a smile out of you. Weak and pitiful, but a smile nonetheless. At least he’s earnest. At the end of the day, he means well when it comes to you.

“I know you won’t. …So thank you.” You return his hug, sneaking your hand between your bodies and pressing it against his chest. Your throat growing tight when you feel the familiar b-bmp of his heart against your trembling palm. “Thank you for staying with me.”

There’s that tiny voice in the back of your head, urging you not to listen to such pointless promises. Knowing that deep down, neither of you can stop death when it comes knocking at your door. No matter how much power he possesses, even Satoru Gojo can’t resist death’s clutches when they finally sink their claws into him.

But there’s time for you to deal with all of that in the future. Right here, right now, he’s safe and sound in your arms. Messy white hair tickling your neck as he nibbles on the skin of your earlobe. Making you giggle as he brushes the rest of your tears away.

And thanking whatever deity may be listening above that you get to spend just one more night with him, wrapped up in his arms with his lips against your own.

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 12

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, tension??, angstangstangst

₊˚✩⊹

Four was worried. It’s been almost 5 days since the brawl at the Yiga clan hideout and you’ve barely spoken to anyone. At first, he brushed it off as being an aftershock, after all you were unconscious for the first 24-hours after the incident. But almost a week of not being your usual self? He was getting very worried.

You barely ate, picking at your food most of the time. Wild’s attempts at making your favorites didn’t help much either. You tossed and turned most nights, ending up sitting on your bedroll from the latest hours of the night, into the first rays of a new day. Your eyes were so so dull, you looked like a husk of yourself, as if someone tried to make a replica of you. As if someone could ever compare or replace you.

Four watched as you made your way over to him, sitting between him and Wind.

“If one of you asks me if I’m alright I’m going to kick your kneecaps in.”

“Got it.” Wind replies.

Four sighs, focusing back onto sharpening his blade. It was a small knife, the blade itself shorter than his forearm. It was his go-to when it came to small daggers, so he sharpened it every few days or so to keep it in pristine capability.

“Had enough of Cap and the Old man, huh?” Four mumbles, trying to look preoccupied. 

“Just tired of the contant looming over my shoulder and treating me like a damn vase.”

He nods. 

Wind groans lightly, “Ugh, tell me about it. They can’t see past me being a 12-year old, regardless if I fuckin’ killed Ganon or not.” He pulls out a small flask from his bag, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Since when do you drink?”

“Since when do you care?”

You back off, clearly it's a touchy subject.

“Sorry, Y/n.”

“All good.”

The night continues, Wind eventually setting up his bedroll to go to sleep. He shuffles up to Sky, who was out about half an hour ago, already somehow in deep sleep. The group relocated to a stable on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, the plan of going to the Arbiter’s Grounds being delayed, yet again.

You sigh, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Four. I’m just so… lost.”

He puts his dagger down, sheathing it. He looks at you, your face illuminated by the low light produced by the embers.

“Is this about your journey?”

You nodded. You could feel the tears already starting to leak from your eyes.

“Is it ok if I touch you, Y/n?”

You nod again, hiccuping lightly.

He scoots right next to you, putting your arm around your form and rubbing your arm slowly. Placing his chin on your head, he lets you cuddle up to him, crying softly into his chest. He combed his fingers through your hair, placing a light kiss on your head.

“I’m right here, Y/n. I’m here. Shhh.” he cradles you, holding you slightly tighter whenever a particularly louder wave of cries comes out of you. Legend was still awake, as it was his turn for watch, a solemn look on his face while he looked at you.

“E-Everything’s changing and I-I’m being left in the dark-” you hiccup, sobbing harder into Four’s chest. Four’s hold tightens on you again.

“What do you mean, Y/n?”

You gasp, “I could’ve-”

You breathe in again, “Everyone is acting different towards me and I know its all m-my fault because I don’t know what I fucking want.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what they want, baby.”

“I thought I did. I wanted to go home but after some stuff that’s happened recently… I don’t know. Is that selfish of me?”

Four shakes his head, “Of course not. Changing your mind in the process is natural.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m splitting myself into two versions of myself? One that’s in Hyrule and one that’s in my era.”

Four sighs dejectedly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know, Y/n. I don’t know.”

~

A new dawn breaks over the horizon, shining onto the dew settled over Hyrule Field, the light fog dissipating. You fluttered your eyes open, your body scrunched up between Twilight and Hyrule, who were still in deep sleep. Feeling antsy, you climb over them and make your way to Wild, who was already awake, prepping breakfast.

He looked tired. You both were.

“Hey.” you rasped, your voice still hoarse from the crying of the evening before.

He looks at you, and gives you a small, tightlipped smile. He was swiping through his slate, gathering ingredients for breakfast. You placed your hand over his, causing him to halt in his actions. You both don’t move for a minute.

He slumps forward, face in his hands. Shakily, he says, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. If I didn’t leave you alone this could’ve all been prevented.”

You shake your head, “None of us knew, Wild. Riju didn’t know, Time didn’t. It’s not your fault, it was an accident.”

You bring him to lean against you, the slate being long forgotten about on the ground.

“I shouldn’t have wandered off, you literally told me not too. I’m partially at fault too.”

You chuckle, “And look where my stubborn self got me.” That seemed to make Wild crack a smile, making the tinge in your heart diminish. 

“You do have a hard time listening.” he said, you just give him a playful nudge.

“Har har, speak for yourself blondie.”

You both sit in comfortable silence, Wild going back to picking out ingredients on his slate. A thought pops into your head, “Wild, can I take a look at the mirror shard again? I wanna compare some of the hieroglyphics to the book Shad gave me.”

He tenses up slightly, but it quickly goes away, pulling out the shard from the slate. He carefully places the shard on your legs, making sure the sharp edge doesn’t cut your leg. Pulling out the Encyclopedia, you turn to the chapter about the Twili tribe.

You run your fingers along the markings on the mirror, lightly engraved into the mirror. Unsurprisingly, there were no visual differences from the shard in your lap and the mirror on the page, meaning this wasn’t just a replica but the real thing. Before you could continue reading, Twilight walks up behind you two, making you close the book and put the mirror away. You could read at a later time.

“Hey pup, Y/n.” Twilight mutters, voice raspy with sleep. Curse his bedroom voice making you weak.

You just waved, not trusting your voice at the moment. He sits next to you, you now sitting between him and Wild. You can feel his eyes on you, you glance at him asking “What?”

He still gazes at you, flickering his eyesight to Wild, then back to you.

“Oh, nothin’. You two just seem cozy.”

Wild snaps his head at his mentor, “Shut up, Twi. Don’t think I don’t notice you making goo-goo eyes over there.”

“Right. Speak for ya self, pup.” he remarked, snorting at Wild’s fumbling. You smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

A moment of silence passes, just the sound of the breeze blowing past your ears, causing stray hairs to stream over your face. The clouds seemed gray today, but not like an imposing storm was about to break, no, more peaceful. Serene.

“What are you guys going to do once this is all done and over with?” you ask, not really knowing where the question came from.

“Jeez I don’t know, probably go home and help around Hateno and the princess. I know she’s building a school for the village.” Wild says, looking out onto the terrain.

Twilight ponders for a moment. He didn’t really think about what he was going to do once this was over and once… you left. He never really thought you’d leave, especially now that it feels so soon and abrupt, he’s dreading his future.

“Don’t know, to be honest. Go back to Ordon, help Rusl and with the farm. Make sure the kingdom ain’t in shambles.” he lied. That was the last thing he wanted to do after all of this. He didn’t want to return after knowing what it's like not being alone anymore. He was left behind once, he didn’t want it again.

“You’re a terrible liar, Twi.”

“What? No I’m not-”

“Your ears twitch when you lie.”

“It’s true.” Wild muttered, resulting in a slap up the back of his head from Twi.

Twilight sighed. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned to you “Truth is… I didn’t think this would end. Don’t get me wrong, I love home and bein’ with everyone it’s just… after I’ve found people who know what it’s like to carry this burden, I don’t think I want anything else.”

You hated this feeling of guilt you were starting to feel about going home. You didn’t belong here, you weren’t meant to be here, unlike them. You needed to go home, forget everything, or at least regard it as a really good dream. 

But it’s not that simple, is it?

“I don’t want to leave you guys. I really don’t. I’ve become so attached to this life and all of you and I feel… heartbroken.” you sighed, laying on your back, blades of grass digging slightly into your exposed skin. 

“I mean… you don’t have to. I may be wrong saying that, but Hylia isn’t necessarily pulling you into a portal to go home.” Wild offers, choosing his words carefully.

You groan in frustration, “I know, I know. But its so much more difficult. Like, yeah I won’t have to deal with stupid shit like college classes or working my entire life for a mediocre job, but… my brother and my aunt are home and they need help. I have a few friends that are probably wondering where I’ve been and if I’m ok. I don’t want them to worry for me and my life, knowing that makes me feel so much worse, y’know?”

Both men nodded, relating to your thoughts on some level. Their adventures weren’t by choice and pulled them away from their friends and family without a warning. A burden that can’t be undone or altered.

“Either way, you didn’t have much of a choice. You were sucked in the portal as well, a quest destined for you, as well.” Hyrule spoke, quietly padding up to you three.

You snort, “Have you been listening this entrie time, Rulie?” 

“Eh, bits n’ pieces. The others are waking up anyways.”

You sit back up and decided to be productive for another 20-30 minutes, as Wild was just barely starting to cook breakfast. From what you could tell, it looked to be a sweeter meal this morning.

You looked back at the book, reading through the script. You were sitting against Twilight, a nice support for your back. You tried to not pay attention to his warm breath on your neck or the feeling of his eyes on you, but that was easier said than done. 

You zoned out everyone’s chatter, finally focusing on the task at hand. You took the mirror back out again and tore a spare piece of paper from an old journal a merchant gave you, using an old piece of charcoal to transfer the engravings of the mirror onto the paper so you could compare with less physical effort and so Wild could keep the shard in his Slate whenever you needed to reference the imagery again. The hieroglyphics transferred seamlessly, the paper seemingly identical to the mirror.

Looking back to the book, you filled in the missing shards and any images/lettering that faded or was carved off for reasons unknown. You then pulled away, looking at your work. Not too shabby.

But you noticed something peculiar. The mirror in the book had straight lines that overlapped the ornate designs, almost as if someone carved them in years after its initial creation. It wasn’t messy by any means, though it seemed that it wasn’t the initial design of the mirror. 

What if…?

“Four, I need a small blade really quick.” you said, not taking your eyes off of your drawing.

He was about to say something, but Legend beat him to it, handing you a small blade just slightly longer than your palm. Muttering a ‘thanks’, you start cutting the paper along the lines that you copied, making sure to keep your hand steady. Once you finished, you handed the blade back to Legend, then focused back onto the scraps of paper in front of you.

You started rearranging the pieces, aligning each piece with the associated shape or side. The pieces started forming a familiar shape, but something was different. Something you should’ve seen before. Something everyone should’ve seen.

“What is it, Y/n?”

You look up at Twilight.

“It’s not a triforce, Link. It’s a tetraforce.”

₊˚✩⊹

[cheetour]

The Void Within's dialogue is sloppy to the point of not being fully literate*.

It's been noticed that the rough sketches and the final artwork don't match up in quality, and seem to be declining as the plot goes on. The same is happening to the writing.

This is, I am sorry, a post about the latest major Neopets update. Not only that, it's about the GRAMMAR in the dialogue for that update. Riveting.

I SWEAR I AM NOT JUST A PEDANTIC ASSHOLE, I GENUINELY WANT USERS TO KNOW THERE'S AN ISSUE!

Most people who complain about "incorrect" grammar in games and comics are wrong. Homestuck, Night in the Woods, We Know the Devil, and Captain Underpants all have fine grammar, just stylized.

I really, really, really like The Void Within. I think it's a fantastic idea, and I am determined to enjoy it as much as possible.

I am a professional editor. Noticing this stuff is my job.

Now, PLEASE bear that in mind when I say:

tl;dr: Neopets is asking you to pay money to a product that does not meet the quality standards of a primary school English test for ages 10+.

*I don't mean to use "not literate" as a stand-in for "stupid and bad at writing." Literacy is very complicated, illiteracy is more common than you think, and there is no shame in being illiterate - you can be very intelligent and also have no written or digital literacy. I mean the literal "not able to use written language to its fullest extent".

It's clear whoever wrote the dialogue didn't have a perfect grasp of English punctuation. AND THAT'S FINE. Good writers don't always have good grammar, and you DON'T need fluent English to write good stories in English.

That's why writing, proofreading, and editing are all separate professions, and why a well-run creative project delegates those roles to separate people. They still matter.

People are more likely to notice grammar mistakes the more they read books. Correctly formatted English is how older, less online, and disabled people with visual or linguistic processing difficulties read. Text-to-speech doesn't work correctly on writing without correct punctuation. These are serious professional standards, and they exist for a reason. They're not worthless just because you don't understand them.

A good-quality publisher of books, comics, or video games wouldn't release dialogue like this to a paying audience. They would consider this standard unacceptable. They'd either use correct grammar, or stylized grammar. (Inconsistent grammar, with no logical or narrative rules, isn't a style. They're not choices if you don't know you're making them. They're mistakes.)

To an extent this is nitpicking, and most people wouldn't notice this stuff.

But Neopets is MAKING MONEY. They are SELLING PRODUCTS for this. They have MULTIPLE PHASES of NC Market sales for this plot.

As an educator, there is no way I could show this (perfectly kid-friendly) comic to a classroom of children - it would have no educational value. It's not written correctly or with any obvious care. If they paid attention to it too much, they'd get the wrong idea about the English language!

I think it's fair to say that if you're publishing an official Neopets story, and you want Neopets to be a kid-friendly, fan-driven, story-based brand with a target audience wider than "people who don't really care about whether stories are professionally written", the script should've been proofread.

To give you an idea of how many typos Chapter 3 has, here's one of the dialogue pages with the missing punctuation added; I also took 5 minutes to rewrite each line for coherency.

And THIS is a website showing you at what points in primary eduation we teach children to use commas correcty:

Art is hard. Programming is hard. Hell, good writing is hard. It's HARD coming up with dialogue and a plot that people actually want to experience.

Grammar is boring and sometimes pointless. It's not difficult. It requires only basic literacy. Children learn how to use commas at ages seven and up.

If you don't care about the story you're telling enough to check that it would get a good grade on a child's school test, how can you possibly expect anyone to pay for it? You need specialist skills to code a website or create a high-quality digital graphic, but the only thing you need to get this right is... one literate adult who cares enough to try.

So where are they?

**There is no shame in being illiterate, but there is CERTAINLY shame in selling illiterate writing.

tl;dr: Neopets is asking you to pay money to a product that does not meet the quality standards of a primary school English test for ages 10+.

Finally, here are some browser petsites/RPGs who have never prompted me to write an 800 word critique:

Fallen London

Pixel Cat's End

Lioden