#who was busy having a meltdown at the bar

[angrybatgaming]

Started a new Darkest Dungeon file (on PS4 because my laptop is still not working right) and either it's been a long time since I last played or they changed the controls.

No. The Vestal did NOT have a good time here.

[kaliforniahigh]

my kink is karma - part. 2 - n.s.

This is the second part to "casual". The title is yet another Chappell Roan song :D

Warnings: Some self-deprecating talk, Folio plays a little bit of a matchmaker, they talk about their feelings, curse words and angst with a happy ending (I'm a sucker for happy endings).

WC: 3.367

It's comical, bridges you burn If karma's real, hope it's your turn

The tension in the air after yours and Noah's argument was palpable. You haven't talked to him since your argument, but it didn't take a genius to notice he wasn't behaving like himself lately.

You, on the other hand, was just waiting for this tour to be over. You've been treating this job exactly like what it is. A job. You kept a friendly relationship with everyone, but the outings to bars or restaurants were kept to a minimum.

Bryan sensed something was up when you asked him to show Noah the pictures you took, for him to select the ones he liked the most, instead of showing him yourself.

You kept in contact with Liam, contrary to what Noah insinuated, your interactions were strictly professional, since Liam had a long-term girlfriend that he mentioned to you the first time you talked. Showing you some pictures he took of her in an outdoor setting.

You could've told Noah this, but seeing him angry and out of his wits at the idea of you dating or seeing someone else was more entertaining for you. You guess you just wanted him to feel a little bit of what you felt when he took those girls to his hotel room.

Nick did tell you though that these past few weeks Noah hasn't even tried to flirt or take girls back to his room, and mentioned that he should check "if his friend was ok". You wondered if you were the only one who never realized Noah was a player.

You guess that doesn't matter now. Liam has called you a few days ago, since you've mentioned to him that tour was wrapping up soon, he wanted to ask if you would accept the invitation of touring with him and the band he worked for, and you were considering it.

You're familiar here, and meeting new people and getting used to a new setting was going to be challenging. But you also knew you couldn't keep going like this. You always took pride in having a great relationship with everyone, and now you felt like you were drifting further and further apart from them.

You knew they considered you their friends, but the truth is: they're Noah's friends. And you could and would never come between that.

It's hot when you have a meltdown In the front of your house and you're getting kicked out It's hot when you're drinking downtown And you're getting called out 'cause you're running your mouth

Nick knew he shouldn't pry, especially not when Noah was on the verge of being too drunk. But two of his best friends were fighting and he knew neither one of them were going to come out and say anything. Besides, he knew Noah lacked a filter when he was intoxicated, so this was his best chance.

Tour was wrapping up this week, so this was the last opportunity for the band and crew to go out together. After all is over, everyone ends up going their own way and it gets difficult to organize something.

Nick was waiting for the best opportunity to talk to Noah, and at some point during the night, they found themselves alone at the table.

"So, Y/N didn't wanna come out tonight", Nick started, mentioning your name right out the gate, not wanting to waste too much time. He saw Noah's shoulder tense.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised", his friend answered, taking another sip of his alcoholic beverage.

"Do you know what could've happened? She used to go out with us all the time", Nick played dumb, not wanting to give away that he could tell you two obviously had something going on.

"I don't know man, maybe she's too busy talking to Liam or whatever", so Noah was jealous, that much he could tell. Nick knew about Liam because you've mentioned him in conversation a couple of times.

"Why would she be busy talking to Liam in the middle of the night? Besides, they're on different timezones", Nick fished for more information.

"I guess she liked the attention she was receiving", Noah said and shrugged his shoulders, trying to look unbothered by the situation, but ultimately failing.

"I see", Nick pondered. Finally, he decided to put his friend out of his misery "you know he has a girlfriend, right? I think Y/N mentioned they've been together for 7 or 8 years or something", Nick said and waited for a reaction. Noah's eyes widened visibly in surprise and he looked in Nick's direction.

"No, I didn't know that", he sounded defeated, as he let the realization sink in.

"So whatever you guys have going on, if it's because Y/N has been talking to Liam, you can cut it out, because there's nothing happening there", Nick saw Noah sigh out loud and run his hands over his face. He expected him to be relieved, but he looked exasperated?

"Noah, this is everything that happened, right?", Nick was suddently worried about his reaction.

"I might have been a dick to Y/N", Noah was looking down at his drink, stirring it uselessly.

"What do you mean?", it was Nick's turn to look and sound exasperated. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew.

"Look, Y/N and hooked up a few times, and...", he began explaining, but Nick cut him off "By hooked up you mean you've kissed, or something more?", he has an inkling feeling that this was so much more.

"I mean we've had sex a few times", he paused, but continued when Nick didn't say anything "it wasn't anything serious, but I might have lost my cool when I saw her talking to Liam at that festival", he at least looked guilty saying this.

"If it wasn't anything serious then why did you lose your cool?" Nick asked the million dollar question.

"I don't know. I think I didn't like seeing her with that guy?", Noah was having a hard time explaining himself. Nick always knew his friend wasn't good with expressing his feelings. And that worried him, because there was no telling what he could've said to you.

"And what happened after that for you guys to stop talking?", Nick was getting to the bottom of this, even if he didn't like it. And it seemed like Noah needed someone to talk to anyway. He could tell the conversation sobered up the boy quite a bit.

"I kinda confronted her about it?"

"And how did you do that?", by the looks of it, he was gonna have to pry the information out of him. He felt like a parent mediating a fight between two kids.

"I wasn't the nicest, ok? I already know that and I already feel like absolute shit about it", Nick wasn't gonna ask again, so they sat in silence until Noah conjured up the courage to say what he needed to say.

"I insinuated that Liam was only interested in her in order to get her into bed. And then I proceeded to tell her that I didn't think she would be so easy". Noah said this with venon in his voice, directed at himself. Saying it out loud again only heightend the weight of his words. And this somehow made him feel even worse.

"What the fuck, Noah? Why the fuck would you say that?", Nick said with anger in his voice.

"Have you seem this Liam guy? He's probably gone to a nice college, just like her. He probably doesn't have attachment issues. He probably doesn't need therapy to talk about his feelings. I freaked out, ok? It was clear from the beggining that Y/N and I could never work. So I decided that having a little bit of her was better than having none of her". Noah could feel the tears stinging his eyes. Letting out the thoughts in his head felt a little liberating, but it didn't make him feel better about the way he treated you.

"You don't get to decide if Y/N deserves you or not. That was her decision to make. And you shouldn't have jumped to conclusions with her and Liam", Nick knew that this was obvious, but maybe the obvious still needed to be said.

"I don't think that matters now. I don't see how I could fix this. Tour is ending and I bet she'll never want to see my face again"

"And if that happens, you at least owe her an apology", Nick patted him on the back and asked Noah if he wanted another drink, he said no, so Nick left him with his own thoughts.

Oh, God And it's coming around, yeah, it's coming around Yeah, it's coming around, oh, God Oh, God

This was one of those things you couldn't get away from. Mainly because everyone has been planning this since before the tour even started. Also because it's already been paid for, and you don't like your money going to waste.

Camping was never your favorite activity. You despised insects and couldn't understand why people left their comfy beds to sleep in tents and sleeping bags. But back then, Noah promised to make you as many roasted marshmallows as you wanted, and you pretended to say yes just because of that. As if you wouldn't jump at the opportunity to spend more time with him. Now you were cursing yourself.

You were unaware of the conversation Nick had with Noah before tour ended, and how much he knew about what transpired between you two. So you thought nothing of the conversation you were having with him, as the boys grilled some burgers for dinner.

"I kind of have something to tell you", you were nervous to make this official. "Since tour ended and everything, I don't see why hide this anymore"

Nick thought you were finally opening up to him about your adventures and fall out with Noah. He would soon find out he was very mistaken as he told you to go on.

"You know how I've been talking to Liam right?", he nodded "recently he asked me if I wanted to tour with him. To have a different experience and all that", you kicked a pebble next to your feet. Nick was looking directly at you, but you didn't have the heart to look back at him. "I've been thinking about saying yes".

"You're leaving us?", this prompted you to lift your head.

"C'mon Nick, this tour was just an experiment. I don't know for sure if you guys will want me back. I need to have something lined up for me". And that was true. You were only thinking about your next steps.

"I thought it was clear we wanted you next tour as well?", Nick genuinely sounded confused and it broke your heart. You didn't know what to say anymore. "Is this about you and Noah?", he asked and you froze the second the words left his lips.

"What do you mean?", you tried to gauge how much he knew.

"I think you know what I mean. I could tell there was something different between you two. I had to find out what it was. So I kind of cornered Noah one night and he told me", you huffed in annoyance.

"What else did he tell you? That I'm easy and fall into bed with everyone that comes asking?"

"No, but he did tell me that he basically told you that", Nick said and you were honestly surprised at this. It was very difficult for Noah to admit to his mistakes. "I'm not defending him, because I already told him what he needed to hear from me. But I think you guys should talk before we leave"

"We'll see about that", you gave him a little sideways smile, trying to be noncommittal about this.

"It doesn't matter if you're with us or working for a different band. I know you'll kill it anyways. But keep in mind that we like having you close"

"Thank you, Nick", you showed him your gratitude.

"I'll see if those goofs need any help", you looked back at the boys and saw Matt threatening Jolly with the tongs, opening and closing them, as if he was trying to get his head. You laughed at this as Nick excused himself.

Dinner went by and soon you were all sitting by the fire, attempting to tell scary stories, but everyone was laughing and calling out loop hopes in each other's tales, turning the situation from scary to funny.

You were roasting some marshmallows here and there. You were never good at this, so it either came out burnt or the thing melted entirely and fell into the fire. You gave up at some point and just sat there, with the stick in your hand, poking the floor aimelessly.

Seconds later, Nick poked you on the side, handing you a stick with two marshmallows roasted perfectly on the top. You gave him a puzzled look, but he just tilted his head to Noah, who was sat beside him. He gave you a barely there smile, and nodded in acknowledgment. The marshmallows kept coming thoughout the night without you having to ask for them. He did promise you to roast you as many as you wanted after all.

Not too long after, everyone was excusing themselves to their tents. The long drive here had everyone yawning. You were not much better, so you decided to do the same.

A soon as your head hit the pillow, thoughts swam through your mind. The conversation with Nick was supposed to be simple. You were pretty much dead set on saying yes to Liam. Now you weren't so sure anymore.

You knew you needed to talk to Noah at some point. You figured that him giving you marshmallows was his way of extending you an olive branch. He was there if you ever wanted to talk. You did miss him and what you had before everything went to shit.

Huffing and deciding that as much as you wanted, sleep wouldn't find you so easily tonight, so you opened your tent to step outside. Maybe meditating or some breathing exercises would relax you enough.

Standing on your feet and stretching your limbs, you noticed Noah still sat at the wooden bench everyone was at earlier. You debated slipping inside your tent again, but he was already looking at you. There was no turning back now.

You also debated sitting somewhere else, but didn't want to make things even more akward, so you sat on the other end of the bench. A few minutes passed by before he spoke up.

"Can't sleep?", he asked.

"No, too much on my mind", you didn't know if you were ready for this, but you had to be.

"I talked to Nick the other day", he glanced at you, but you kept a neutral expression.

"Yeah, he told me about that", your hands were picking on loose strands of your sweater.

"Listen, I'm not gonna make any excuses. I owe you an apology. You don't have to accept it, but I have to tell you how sorry I am for what I said to you", he sat sideways now, looking directly at you. "So I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I should've delt with my anger instead of taking it out on you"

"I just don't understand why you were so angry? Why Liam and I talking led you to said that", you did have an idea, but you wanted him to tell you. Noah has been going over this conversation in his head for days. He decided that it doesn't matter the outcome, he was going to be honest with you.

"I shouldn't have invited you to my hotel room that first night. I knew this was going to end like this. I thought I could get a grip on my feelings, but I was very mistaken. I was selfish and I hurt you in the process", you tried to pretend that that first part didn't hurt you, so you decided to focus on the end of his speech. You appreciated the honesty regardless of how it made you feel.

"What feelings?"

"The feelings that I have for you. I think I've had them since Bryan introduced you to us for the first time. Thinking back on it now, how could I not have feelings for you? Not only are you a great protographer, but you're also an amazing and kind girl. And I'm just the good looking guy who sings in a band", he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. You didn't like the way he talked about himself.

"I don't think you're just a good looking guy who sings in a band, you're so much more than that and it's such a shame you don't realize it", you tried to get your point across. "I know that you didn't mean what you said back in that tour bus. Mainly because I know you, and you're not a mean person. But you really need to communicate better with the people around you"

"I know. Maybe then I would've known that Liam has a girlfriend, right?", he smiled at this.

"Exactly", you smiled back. "It hurt me a lot when you kept giving attention to other girls after we slept together. I guess I just felt like another notch on your belt", you made yourself a little smaller after admitting to this, but decided to be honest with him the same way he was being with you.

"I never slept with them. Sometimes we didn't even take the elevator up to my floor because I just told them it wasn't gonna work. It just didn't feel right and my head wasn't in the right place", this did make you feel incredibly better.

"Well then, I guess I could've communicated better myself. Maybe then I would've known this, instead of wallowing in pity", this time was your turn to smile and poke a little fun at the situation.

"I gave you the wrong idea, I'm sorry about that", there was a moment of pause before he contined "I understand if nothing can happen between us now, after all of this. But it would be great if you came back for another tour, you really do an amazing job, and I don't want my behavior to jeopardize that", you sighed at this, now was the time to tell him.

"I've had an offer from another band to go on tour with them", you looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction. His face fell and the somewhat relaxed look he kept on his face throughout your conversation, morphed into one of resignation.

"Oh, that's great. You're gonna be amazing regardless", he tried to be supportive of your decision, but his voice gave him away.

"I'm not going", his eyebrows shot up at this. "Just being here tonight, with everyone, made me realize that I'm not ready to leave this behind. Besides, I think I'll miss you too much", he gave you the biggest smile at this and you could see a little rosy tint to his cheeks.

"I would miss you terribly", he said back. You were now sat closer together, drifting towards each other during your conversation. "Tell me if this is overstepping or if I'm too soon, but I would love to take you out on a date when we get back home. I think we started this a little backwards", you could sense the hesitantion in his voice.

"I would love to go on a date with you", you offered your hand for him to take, interlacing your fingers together, reveling in the way his totally encompassed yours.

"Thank you for giving us another chance", his voice conveyed honesty, glad you didn't decide to just kick him to the curb entirely.

"You really don't give yourself enough credit. I think I would do anything you asked me if you were nice enough", and it was true. After your argument you knew you would forgive him if he had a good enough excuse. Deep down, you were hoping that woudn't be the end for you two.

You rested your head on his shoulder, you sensed a little bit of hesitation from him, until you took one of his arms and put it over your shoulders, feeling his hand mess with the ends of your hair. You felt content and finally at ease.

Thank you everyone who requested a part 2! Hope you enjoyed this :D

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[princessbrunette]

thinking about how daddy!johnb caring all of your things in his lil backpack so you don’t have to worry your pretty head about losing your things. like he has your fave snacks in there incase you get hungry, has extra bandaids because know who clumsy you are, keeps your go to lip combo in a small bag so they don’t get mixed in this his things. tbh daddy!johnb seems like the type of daddy to have a whole pocket of his backpack dedicated to his pup!!

also if it’s alright can i be 🏵️ anon??

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🌼୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

sometimes the days seem too long, especially with the shenanigans the pogues drag you into! it tires you out, and all you wanna do is curl up on your boyfriends lap back at the chateau, eat and nap. as john b once said, “hibernation is key for a happy girlfriend.”

it had become habit for him to carry your things. he remembers the meltdown you had last time you’d misplaced the little nature valley bars you’d brought with you specifically to snack on— motivating the brown eyed boy to always carry them from that point on, along with heaps of other stuff you deemed important. it made his backpack a little heavier, sure. but he was a strong boy — and plus, what did he really need to bring out with him aside his phone (which went in his pocket anyway) and some maps?

jj steers the boat across the calm water— a quieter moment for the group for once as you journey to your next destination.

snapping you out of a pouty daze, john b’s tanned legs appear infront of your line of vision where you sit before he’s bending at the knee to be eye level with you, offering you a friendly smile.

“what’dja need, hm? you look like you need something.” he chimes lightheartedly, always seeming to be in a chipper mood these days.

“i’m hungry… and tired.” you fiddle with the cuffs of your denim shorts, always feeling guilty when you complain, not wanting to seem like you couldn’t keep up with the group.

“well your hunger, i can do something about…” your boyfriend begins, shrugging his backpack off his back and swinging it round to his front, digging through its contents. “voila, mon chéri.” he theatrically produces the snack he’d packed for you, wiggling his brows a little at his own silliness.

“ooh, you know some french?” you giggle to yourself, already busying yourself with tearing open the packaging. he hoists himself up to where you’re sitting and plonks down right beside you, pulling you into his side to lean against him.

“no uh… not really no…” he chuckles, watching you take a bite out of your snack, happily munching. “anyway, as for your tiredness i can’t do much about that right now…” he glances round, pope and kie immersed in their own conversation and jj preoccupied with steering to not be minding his business. “but i can promise cuddling on the couch… at the chateau… when we’re finished up here?” he speaks softly, thumb drawing patterns on your back making you lean more of your weight on him.

you turn your cheek to rest against his warm body, licking a crumb off your bottom lip. “i want that, daddy.” you whisper, just for him to hear and his heart melts.

“okay… good job on holding out today. wont keep you out too long, sleepy girl.”

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[urf1lterr]

afterglow | pedro pascal [2/3]

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

previous chapter: [1]

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

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

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

word count: 15k

status: 2/3 complete

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

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

"Andrew!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And bless the celebrities near you for minding their business.

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

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

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

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

Which you weren't, obviously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never said I was stressing over hi-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't get it."

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

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

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

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

Because they really wanted to know the drama.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andrew smirked, nodding proudly. "Classic move."

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

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

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

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

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

"Was it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had to for your own good.

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

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

You wish you knew.

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

"Did that work?"

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

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

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

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

Like always.

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

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

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

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

But you were human and sometimes humans act human.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did he say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or anger across.

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

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

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

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

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

"We get it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a way to dismiss your feelings.

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

"I can't do that either!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I mean he did promise her it."

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

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

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

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

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

"And how long did that last?"

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

"Over?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Spill the beans."

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did neither one.

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

"And who were you with?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And that's bad?"

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

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

"Did you really believe him?" Andrew asked.

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

"Let me finish the story!"

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

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

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

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

Point is- always wear protection.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Continue!"

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

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

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

You accepted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know but I had a crammed morning-"

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/n?!"

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

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

"You tricked me!"

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

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

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

"They were gummy supplements!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hit him.

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing in relief, he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up, Andrew."

"Sorry, go on."

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

This was not going to end well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then why did you sleepover?!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Come here."

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

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

It was...peaceful.

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

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

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

Every single time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What an emotional day it has been.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's up?"

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

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

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

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

"You're thinking about him, huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That must mean something.

Did it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What can you say- she was a charmer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

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

You got nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you call yourself an actress.

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

You didn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gross.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smart.

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

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

But now he's...walking away?

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

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

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

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

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

He really was over you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I take that back but-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Typical? What do you mean by that?"

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

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

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

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

Very poetic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You fucked up- for real this time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he knew he'd be lying.

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

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

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

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

You wanted him to hurt- but to what extent?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ring? As in, an engagement ring?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+

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[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious Themes (includes a Comforting scene), Mild Meltdown (I don't want to say a panic attack because it isn't really) Mentions of Grieving, the most brief mention of funerals, silly&friendly bullying, drinking/alcohol (we know the drill), Fluff oh the fluff, & Jake yearns a little more (shocking).

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: After caving and finally asking for help, Jake doesn't know what to do with himself until she shows up. Which takes a big ol' turn for ... well, I guess we will find out, won't we? 🤭

Author's Note: If we're being completely honest, this was the first chapter I wrote, of this story. I knew exactly how I wanted this day to go and I couldn't stop myself when I thought of the idea. It's what fueled the bulk of the storyline and I really hope you guys love it as deeply as I do. 🥹

Clocks Go Forward - James Bay "Stay warm, close your eyes, let time fly, Stay close, stay right here, nothing to fear."

I slide my phone back into my pocket. Staring at it isn’t going to make her reply, Jake. I’ve been at the bar trying to figure out this paperwork for a while, and well, I’m lost. My hands keep finding their way to the back of my head as I read through these documents; I need to focus on something else. 

“Hey, how are you?” I say in passing some day-time regulars of ours. I collect any empty cans or glasses that I can, anything to keep me busy at this rate.  

I wander behind the bar, setting all the glasses in the dirty bin.

“Jake.” 

I look over to Josh, who’s wiping out a glass.

“Why don’t you just go get some lunch or something? You’re stressing me out being here.” 

“Is it really that bad?” I ask, running my hand through my hair. 

A laugh erupting from him says enough. 

“Okay, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” I tell him, “Just let me know if you need anything.” 

Reluctantly sitting back down at the desk in my office, I find myself with my head in my hands for a moment. You’re going to be okay. You’re new at this, and it’s okay to mess up. She’s giving you time to take care of everything. 

After a deep breath or two, I opened my laptop and pulled up my email. I decided that maybe spending some time doing mindless admin work would help distract me from the inevitable problem. 

I’m flying through these emails by humming along to whatever customers have chosen for the jukebox. Looking at the time in the top corner, 2:30 pm. 

She still hasn’t replied. Maybe she’s working with someone else right now; just be patient.  

I walk back into the bar, seeing a handful more people come in. I wave slightly to the regulars who like to camp out in the corner. They enjoy sneaking away from work for a few hours; “Lunch beers” is apparently what they call it.  I laughed the first time they told me about it, but as they continued the tradition, I understood it more and more. 

Looking to the corner of the bar, I see Quinn. I can’t help but watch the two of them for a minute with a grin plastered on my face. Seeing my brother so happy makes my heart swell daily, and Quinn is perfect for him; I can’t deny it. They just know how to handle him and reign him in when he’s being a bit too much. Which is more often than not. 

“Do you two want to go grab lunch?” I ask, slinking my arm around Josh’s shoulders, “I think I can handle the rowdy folk we have here.” I shoot a wink at the few customers sitting next to Quinn. 

His eyes light up, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s go, bug!” 

I don’t think he could have left any quicker if he tried. Immediately, hand in hand with Quinn, and practically pranced out of the bar. 

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“And a squirrel fell down my chimney into my fireplace!” 

I nod with a quiet “mhm,” glancing at my phone hidden under the bar. 3:15 pm. I'm trying to look interested in this story I’ve heard a few times. The older gentleman talking to me forgets that he’s told me the majority of the tales he has in his arsenal. But I don’t want to cut him off; he seems lonely, and the least I can do is humor him. 

Hearing the door chime, followed by Josh making his entrance. 

“Welcome back,” I chuckle as he walks swiftly towards the bar. 

“I need to use the lavatory, and then I will be ready to rock ‘n roll or whatever kids say nowadays,” Josh mutters. 

You would think he’s nine hundred years old with how he talks sometimes, but it always keeps me on my toes. Watching as he disappears around the corner, I grab the older man’s glass and place it in the dirty bin. 

The door chime goes off again, causing my head to whip around. 

Oh, she’s here..?

As Charlotte slowly walks to the bar, I go to meet her at the opposite corner. I pull my phone out; she never replied? 

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” I start as she approaches. Leaning down to grab everything I had been looking at, I stowed away when I couldn’t focus anymore. 

“I have been reading through all of these, and I think you’re gonna need to explain these to me like I’m five–” I stop. I hadn’t looked at her face the entire time, and her eyes were pink and looked a bit swollen. She’s not making eye contact at all, which seems odd compared to the other afternoon, where I thought if she held my gaze any longer, I would explode. Was she crying? I questioned myself. I hope I didn’t cause this. Was she supposed to be off today? Oh my god, what if I’m the only reason she’s working? 

Finally pulling myself out of my head, “Are you okay?” 

She takes a shallow breath before looking up at me, and I can see that her eyes are fighting the urge to let the tears fall. 

“Um,” she swallows, looking back down, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her raspy voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. Her lip quivers as she stands there, and I can see the way her breathing is picking up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.  

I hear the door to the bathroom open. Turning around, I shoot Josh a look. He makes eye contact with me as I bounce my eyes to Charlotte and back to him. I watch as he glances at her quickly, his eyes widening as if to say, ‘Do what you need to.’

I come out from behind the bar, grabbing her bag from the barstool it sat on. 

“Come with me,” I whisper to her; she just nods in response. 

I gently place my hand on her back, guiding her down the hall to my office. Just long enough to round the corner into the small room, she lets out the tiniest whimper I’ve ever heard. I toss her bag onto the chair, facing her as she finally breaks down. Her hands fly up to hide her face as she lets out the most heartbreaking sound. One sob was enough for me; I pushed the door closed behind her and pulled her into me.  

“Oh, honey,” I let slip out, holding her small frame tight against me as she cried. I listen to her sobs against my chest as I run my hand down the back of her head, holding her close. I close my eyes to help focus my breathing; being in these situations never gets easier and I’ll never understand how I always end up in them. 

“Take a breath for me,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm for her. I can feel her take a deep breath and shakily release it. Her arms drop from her face, finding their way around my back. Grabbing at my shirt gently, like she’s afraid I'll let her go.  

“I’m right here. Take your time,” I whisper, pressing my lips gently to the top of her head, “You’re okay.” 

We spend a few minutes like this. I keep rubbing slow circles on her back, resting my face against the top of her head to keep her tucked in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. I feel her shake her head ‘no’ before turning her face and leaning back against me, reaching up to push the hair out of her face. She lets out another shaky breath. 

“I‘m so sorry,” she mumbles into me. 

“Don’t apologize for having emotions.” 

I lean back to look at her, her breathing starts to feel more normal.

She looks tired.

I don’t know what comes over me when I reach up, holding either side of her face and gently wiping the tear stains on her cheeks away. 

Our eyes finally met; she really was beautiful— crying or not. 

Her gaze doesn’t falter, her green eyes locked on me. She almost makes me nervous, not in a mean or intimidating way, but like I shouldn’t be allowed to look at someone who looks like her.

“Do you want to um-” I hesitate, “go get something to eat? While we talk about things. Not like a d-”

Despite her watery eyes, she huffs out a laugh.

“Stop,” she says, “I know what you mean. Yes, let’s do that.”

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We walked into the restaurant, and considering it’s only 4 p.m., it’s not very busy. I let her pick where we sit, following behind as she chose. She had a soft smile on her face as she claimed the booth seat like she just won a prize.  

“Hi, can I please have a Boulevardier? ” Charlotte politely orders, my eyebrows raised at her choice. 

“Actually, I’ll take the same thing,” I tell them, “Thank you.” 

Charlotte pulled out the paperwork, flipping through it to see what I had left. Watching her green eyes flit across them, setting aside anything that needs more attention. The way that she chews the inside of her lip while she’s reading is endearing. 

“Okay, so you haven’t missed too many things.” She tells me. 

“Oh good,” I start picking at my lip, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize how much was involved.” 

“That’s alright, Jacob. It’s a lot, and nobody generally explains this part of business to you.” Normally, I would cringe at my full name being used, but I just want her to keep saying it. 

She pulled out one of the papers and turned it to face me. She pointed at the part I hadn’t filled out. 

“So essentially, this means–” She begins explaining. Her eye contact is intense while she talks, which makes it incredibly hard to focus. I feel myself slowly smiling as she’s telling me. I glance at her mouth quickly, making it even more challenging to pay attention. 

“What?” 

Damnit. I raised my eyebrows with a small ‘mmm’. 

“You looked like you wanted to say something?” She questions. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry– no, I was just listening.” There are a lot of things I could say.

“Oh– Well, anyway,” she shakes her head a little before continuing to explain. 

I really wish that I could tell you what she’s explained to me at this point, but to be completely honest, I have no clue. I’ve been far too distracted by the freckles on her nose and the way her eyes twinkle under these lights. I can’t get over the green of her eyes, with subtle gold flecks in them. Her hair is perfectly curled, and how the color of it stands out against her blazer.  She is unreal.

“Are you planning on doing that?” She asks, immediately pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Great, Melody will really benefit from that,” she tells me. Benefit from what exactly?

“Do you need me to send you the information on that?” she quickly asks, grateful I’ll at least have context on what I’m agreeing to. 

“Please, if you could,” I say quietly as I rub my eyes.  

Our server stopped our conversation to take our order, giving me a second to try and refocus myself. She is trying to help you and isn’t being an asshole about it. The least you can do is pay attention to what she’s actually saying. Get it together.

“Okay anyway,” she starts again, “I think that’s everything?”  She sifts through the papers.

“Amazing,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry I made you come out here to help.” I sit back in my chair, my hands falling into my lap, where I quietly dig at the side of my thumb. 

“No, it’s okay, really,” she says, not making eye contact this time. “I was already in Portland, so it worked out.”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she told me, but I knew I shouldn’t ask. If she wanted to tell me what was wrong, she would. I’m not going to make her cry again.  

“Well, I’m glad I caught you at the right time then,” I say, offering a small smile. Her face softens a bit, and she leans forward, propping herself up. 

“So, how long ago did you buy the bar if it’s not even a year old?” 

“About two years ago, actually,” I tell her, “We took our time renovating it to feel right.” 

“We?” 

“All the boys helped me, but Josh really did the most with making it look the way it does.” I usually have no issue talking about the bar, but her being even vaguely interested has my brain stalling. 

“I love that. He did a good job curating,” she says, “Was the goal to be pirate-esque, or did it just end up that way?” 

I chuckle, “No, it was intentional. I’ve always enjoyed pirates, even as a kid, so I felt like it just made sense.”

“I think it’s nice that you made it your own. There are enough modern hipster bars in the area. It’s a refreshing thing to walk into.” 

Her compliment made my heart beat a little harder. I’m never one to assume, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would hang out in a bar like mine. Granted, I guess I can’t really picture her hanging out in bars in general, but maybe that’s because I have always been a fan of the smaller, more dive bars. And I can confirm that I’ve never seen someone of her caliber in any of them. 

Once our food is brought out, I ask her about how she got into working for the state. We quietly chatted about some of the situations that she’d walked into, which unintentionally made me feel much better about my slip-up. But simultaneously, it made me realize how terrible men can be. I can’t imagine yelling at her regardless of what she told me. People are awful. 

The server brings over the check, and without hesitation, I slide my card into the little black folder and hand it back to them with a quiet, ‘Thank you.’  I bring my attention back over to her, her eyes a little wide but going back to normal as she continues telling me about another bar owner being a complete ass. 

I fill out the slip, leaving cash for the tip, before looking up at her.

“Ready?” I ask. She just nods a few times before sliding out of the booth. I wave my hand in front of me, “After you m’lady.” 

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“So, how far do you live from here?” I try to make some form of small talk on the way back to her car, avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“I live in Skowhegan, so it’s a little hike,” she tells me, looking around at the area’s architecture, “but my family has a house on Sebago Lake, so it’s not as bad when I have to come down here.” 

“Oh, I'm sure it’s peaceful over there.” I imagine how quiet that lake house must be this time of year. With minimal people vacationing or trying to fish on the lake, and it’s probably gorgeous in the mornings. 

“It really is,” she says, looking down at her feet for a second, “Do you live close?”

“I actually live above the bar,” I laugh every time I tell someone, “I know that probably seems ridiculous.” 

“Convenient, at least,” She giggles softly before looking at me with a smile. Oh, I’m gonna throw up. 

“It’s a blessing and a curse,” I tell her, “Blessing when you can just roll out of bed and run downstairs if you oversleep, but a curse when I find myself in there most days.. And nights.” Pointing at the crosswalk, nobody was coming; I placed my hand on the small of her back as I led her into the street, shit, carefully pulling my hand back as she stepped off the sidewalk. 

“You don’t get sick of being there?” 

“You would think so, but no. I love it, even if working with my brothers can be an absolute chore sometimes.” I tell her. 

She grabs my arm gently.

“I think that’s great, Jacob. It’s refreshing to hear someone love their job in this industry. It’s few and far between.” I glance over at her as she says it; my stomach has little knots forming as she squeezes my bicep a few times before pulling her hand back.  

She points to her car, parked just a short distance ahead of us. I see her pulling her keys from her bag as we approach it, unlocking the doors. I open her door for her, watching her face redden a little at the gesture. As she’s settling into her seat, I notice a brochure-looking paper in her passenger seat before realizing there’s a photo on the front. And a name. Oh my god, Charlotte. That’s why she was so upset. 

Setting her bag down in front of the pamphlet, she turned back to me with a soft smile, “How much should I send you for food?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. 

“But, Jacob..” 

“It was my idea. I’m not going to make you pay for that.” Also, it’s the least I can do, especially now.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Well, thank you for the food and walking me back here. I’m pretty sure I would have gotten lost.” 

“Of course,” I tell her, “Drive safe.” 

I go to close her door for her, and I don’t know what possessed me when I hesitate, “Actually—” what are you doing? “Let me know when you make it home? Just since it’ll be a little later.” 

She nods subtly before saying, “Okay,” with a quiet laugh. 

I bite at my bottom lip as I smile at her, gently shutting her door for her. 

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“Now, where have you been?”

 I haven’t even made it fully behind the bar, and I’m already getting harassed.

“It’s nice to see you too, Linda,”  I laugh under my breath, “I had to take care of some paperwork, but I’m here now.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she looks from me to my right, where Josh stands with a shit-eating grin. Oh, fuck me. 

“And how was that paperwork, brother?” He says joyfully, emphasizing his skepticism with heavy air quotes. 

And, here we go. 

“The paperwork went well,”  I side-eye him, “Thank you for asking.”

I watched the two of them share a look before looking back at me, and all I offered was a shrug in response. 

“Why were you not in your office doing paperwork?” Linda questions as Eleanor joins her at the bar in their usual spots. 

“Who wasn’t in the office?” Eleanor chimes in. 

“Jake! He apparently went somewhere with someone to take care of paperwork,” Linda fills her in, like two school girls at lunch. 

Rubbing my hand across my face, I turn around to dry some glasses while I’m interrogated further. I should have known my being nice to her would have me questioned. 

“Well, that sounds like he went on a date,” Eleanor unknowingly agreeing with their past statements. Josh is the most enormous pain in my ass, I swear to god. 

“It wasn’t a date!” 

 Josh laughed, “That sounds like something someone who went on a secret date would say.” I feel my body warm the more they talk about my “date.” WHICH WASN’T A DATE. 

“Well, who paid?” Linda asks. 

“Uhh… I did,” I hesitated to answer. “But- it was my idea to go there, so I didn’t want to make her pay anything.” 

“Oh! You went with a girl?” Eleanor quietly questions.

“Yes, I needed help with some business stuff, and she was able to help me,” I tell her. “If she hadn’t come in so upset, I would have just been here the whole time.” 

The ladies look at each other and then back at me before Eleanor pipes back up, “So what you’re saying is, I just need to come in here crying to score a date with you?” 

A laugh falls out of me before I can even process what she’s said; at least someone has a sense of humor about all of this. 

“That’s very nice of you to take her to lunch to try and help cheer her up, sweetheart,” Linda tells me. I smile at her compliment before putting away some of the glasses I had been drying. I feel Josh’s presence before he says anything, just setting some dirty glasses in the bin below the counter. 

“Is she okay?” he whispers, leaning over to make sure nobody else heard. 

“I don’t know, honestly,” I tell him, knowing I sound a little panicked about it. 

“Did she say why she was upset?” 

I shake my head ‘no’ before leaning over, “I saw one of those printouts you get at funerals in her car, and she was wearing all black, so I’m assuming that she uh—” 

Josh covers his mouth and turns to look at me. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he will absolutely empathize with anybody about anything. 

“Oh shit,” he murmurs under his breath. 

I can’t hide the look of concern on my face as we stare at each other for no more than a few seconds. 

“She’ll be alright. You probably just caught a wave of grief, is all.” Josh says, grabbing my arm and giving it a few squeezes. 

I let out a small breath. He’s right. She probably just hadn’t really let anything out, and I just asked the wrong question. 

“You’re right,” I whisper back, patting the back of his hand on my arm, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”  But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying. 

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Business picked up shortly after that, with all the tables full and chatter loud. It kept me from my thoughts, which is probably for the best. I’m grateful that Linda and Eleanor came in tonight; they always keep me busy. 

I take small breaks from behind the bar to go check on the tables of people, collecting the empty glasses and bottles; sometimes, it’s nice to just mindlessly clean up. I spend a few minutes making small talk with some of the regulars, noticing the time as one of their phones lights up. 

11:30 p.m. already? Where did the night go?  I leave the table with a slight wave and head back to the bar to leave the dirty glasses. Setting them all on the back counter, I can tell Josh is caught up in whatever the ladies are telling him. 

Rounding the corner into the hall, I quickly lock myself away in the bathroom. Pulling my phone out immediately, relief washes over me when I see her name sitting in my notifications. Thank god. 

Charlotte: I made it home. Thank you again 

Jake: I’m happy to hear that and of course

Jake: I hope everythings okay.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head back into the bar. She’s home, at least there’s that. 

“You can go if you want. I can handle the rest of the night,” I tell Josh quietly. He’s been here all day, and I definitely didn’t intend for him to cover the bar for that long. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Please, go get some sleep or call Quinn. Just get out of here while you can.” 

He hands me the towel he was using and mouths ‘thank you’ as he slides by me; I really can’t blame him for being excited to go to bed. It’s been a long day. 

The rest of the night seemingly flew by. A fair number of people, including Linda and Eleanor, left by 1 am, which meant I had to clock into my true Customer Service self for the last hour of the night. But it’s always nice when people start to trickle out early so that I can start cleaning up to close and make my life a little easier. 

I’m leaning against the back counter talking to the last few customers, and I can’t help but let my mind wander. What if she’s still upset? There’s nothing I can do to help that situation, and that’s okay. Maybe she just needs a friend right now. I could do that?  Or maybe she’s already told her friends, and Josh was right. Was she just having a moment? Oh god, what if she has a boyf- 

My phone vibrates, pulling my attention away from my internal spiral.  1:57 a.m. Thank god.

Charlotte: It will be, i’m sorry that you had to witness that.

Jake: don’t apologize, i’m glad i was able to help..i hope?

Charlotte: It did help, truly. 

That makes my heart feel a little weird. Don’t get ahead of yourself. 

Jake: well.. if you need anything, let me know? 

I set my phone down underneath the bar and started printing the tabs for the last customers who were sitting. I went through the motions as I put the papers out front of each of them with a pen. I watch as they sign on the line, possibly leaving a tip; either way, I’m not bothered. Leaving with a friendly ‘Have a good one,’ I follow behind them, locking the doors and shutting off the neon lights. Happy to know that I have hardly anything left to do. 

The brisk air hits me as I lock the back door, and I practically run up the stairs. Opening the door, it’s quiet. He must be asleep then. I carefully walk through the apartment, cracking his door open to see him tucked away in bed. 

“Goodnight, Josh,” I whisper, pulling his door shut gently. 

I shut my door as softly as I could, immediately pulled my flannel off, and tossed it on the end of my bed. Followed by my jeans before I grab my phone from my nightstand. 2:34 a.m. I open my messages to see her name sitting there with the blue, unread messages dot glowing back at me. 

Charlotte: I may take you up on that.

Why is she still awake? It’s so late. 

Jake: I hope you do

Be more obvious, Jake, come on.. 

Jake: Also why are you still up? lol

It changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ almost instantly. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn. 

Charlotte: I just haven’t been tired enough to sleep, but I think I’m getting there.

Jake: After everything, I figured you’d be exhausted

Charlotte: You would think lol 

Dropping my phone next to me. I rub my hands down my face. Trying to get the look on her face just before she cried out of my mind. ‘I’m so sorry’ in her sad little voice, playing on a loop. The sounds of her sobs against my chest, her shaking in my arms. I almost wish that I didn’t know why she was upset now. 

Jake: well don’t let me keep you up

This time, my message sat on delivered for a few minutes. I did my daily scroll on mindless apps and looked at the few new photos people had tagged the bar in before she replied. 

Charlotte: You’re not a bother at all, but I should probably try to sleep before it gets too much later.

Charlotte: Goodnight Jacob

My mind ran through all the ways that I could reply. How I’d love to tell her that I’m sorry for her loss and that I hope everything gets better. Even that, I had a lovely time talking to someone outside of my family and their partners for more than a few minutes as I served them a beer. It felt like we could be friends even, with the way she didn’t seem phased by any of the vaguely nerdy things I said. Unfortunately, my hands settled on something more straightforward, and I quickly hit ‘send.’

Jake: sleep well, Charlotte 

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Chapter Four

Chapter Six

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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Taglist (it's gonna have to keep looking wonky so everybody gets the notifications lol bear with me!)

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf

@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold

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[shortpplfedup]

Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 6

Another outstanding episode as chickens start coming home to roost and Sand sets a ball a-rollin' that is gonna roll right over him in the end. In a surprise upset, Sand's mom won the audience vote last week, with Top and Boston tied for second place. You really never know who the Tumblrinas are going to favour from week to week, keeps us all on our toes! Here are this week's highly scientific rankings.

🔺1. Ray (4)

Let me talk to my friends. It’s his birthday. I’d like to say something.

Ray said NO SURVIVORS and sprayed the entire room at Mew's birthday party, and honestly? Kinda deserved. From calling Sand a whore (OUCH) to reading Cheum for filth for her shitty little backhanded comments, to almost letting the cat out of the Top/Boston bag in front of everybody, our resident mess came for every neck in the building. Boston primed him, Sand aimed him and Cheum lit the match, and it's no coincidence those three got hit with the blowback of his explosion at Top. A seething ball of pain and resentment fueled by alcohol and god-knows-what-else was never gonna fire a clean shot.

🔺2. Sand (5)

Stop thinking about Mew and focus on me for once. Can’t you really see that I care about you?

Well now we know why Sand didn't blink an eye at Nick bugging Boston's car; he's just as fucking unhinged. Sand, a poor, breaking his own phone just to get his hands on Nick's and that recording (which, by the way, calling the file 'That Car' is really too much Nicholas PLEASE 🤣)...WILD. We've all had Nick pegged as the bunny boiler but Sand might be worse and I can't WAIT because I still believe in that baseball bat. But him begging Ray to give a single solitary shit about him even AFTER Ray calls him a whore in front of a bar full of people...I remain embarrassed on his behalf.

🔺3. Mew (6)

Cocky much? I don’t even know if we’re gonna last that long.

Ok, when Mew said 'I love the sound you make when having sex' I literally screamed out OH FUCK HE KNOWS and listen, I have been WAITING for this moment. That was a baller fucking moment. You just KNOW Top's blood ran cold. Of course these two aren't breaking up, because couples like this NEVER break up. Game always recognises game. This is gonna be the first confrontation of many. But I'm pretty sure this is the last time Mew is gonna cry about it. Top might have just picked the wrong one. Mew has two moms, pretty sure he knows how to destroy a man.

🔻4. Nick (2)

I don’t give a shit about what number I am. Screw it. I’m not that into you.

At some point Nick is gonna have to stop threatening to walk and actually fucking walk, but it's clearly continuing to work for him as he and Boston are clearly the boyfriends Boston insists they're not. Dates, couple photos, meeting the dad, tender lovemaking, Boston's deep, dark secrets: Nick's getting it all...except the label he wants so very badly. And now he's shook because he knows Sand stole that recording, and he knows if Boston finds out about it it's all coming crashing down.

🔺5. Cheum (8)

I’m so happy everyone has a lover. Even a heartless slut like Boston has one.

Girl, you absolutely earned that smoke Ray blew at you. Sly Comment Susie got a minor taste of her own medicine and didn't like that shit one bit. It's all fun and games until it's your dirt under the microscope. Maybe Cheum just learned a lesson about minding her own business a little more, or at the very least keeping some of her thoughts to herself.

🔻6. Boston (3)

If I was a nice guy, you wouldn’t like me.

A surprisingly quiet week for Ton as everybody else gets so messy he looks relatively drama-free. But under the surface he's still paddling like mad: screwing Nick like a lover rather than just a fuckbuddy to keep him from leaving, clearly not out to his dad but bringing Nick round to meet him (once again using him for free work), pinning Ray so decisively that he causes a full-on meltdown. Though, 'I don't hate Mew'...well that might actually be true, because he's giving more fear than hatred.

🔻7. Top (1)

I get anyone I want. What about you? Who do you get?

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Top spent the episode feeling totally smug as he finally won the game and is basking in his spoils, swinging his dick around, feeling like King Shit. And then Mew played that recording and LOSER TIME. I have the distinct impression that Top hates to lose...

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Dapple Grey

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ << Part 2: Buckskin | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 4: Strawberry Roan >> }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Tinder is a dangerous game. So is Never Have I Ever.

Warnings: Flirting, yearning, insecurities, sexual tension, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendoes, language, mention of food, drinking, drinking games, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I had a little bit of a meltdown writing this part. Thank you @mandoblowmybackout and @prolix-yuy for talking me out of it ❤️ I had the busiest week so I didn't have as much time as I usually do for edits, so this chapter's a bit of an… experiment 🙈 Thank you for everyone who's been so kind to me and this series - I hope you enjoy this part! 🦄

Dapple grey: A grey or white horse with spots or areas of a darker colour.

Day 2

‘Stop looking at me.’

‘I’m not.’

You turn the camera around to show Jack the photo you just took and deadpan, ‘I have literal proof of you looking straight at me.’

The two of you are sitting underneath the shade of a tree, a simple lunch laid out in the middle on a picnic blanket. The horse’s saddles and packs are resting against the trunk behind you while they graze nearby.

In front of you, several yards away, the grassy plain drops off into a deep valley. And beyond - a sight to behold. If the bentonite hills had been sculpted by a higher being, they must have run an inadvertent finger through the clay while it was on the spinning wheel, creating dramatic curves that cut into the soft rock. The hills are painted from left to right for miles and miles in white, red and green stripes, candy cane colours faded under the sun.

Jack gives you a scowl as he rolls up his tortilla wrap, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. He grumbles, ‘It’s hard not to. You’re pointing the camera at me.’

‘Well, you gave me full control of today’s photography, so you have to do what I say.’

He flings an accusatory finger at you. ‘Only because you promised to help us with our marketing.’

You press a dramatic hand to your chest. ‘What exactly are you insinuating, cowboy?’

‘You’re obviously taking pictures for the Tinder thing instead, which, by the way, I am not convinced about,’ replies and takes a bite of his wrap.

‘Not convinced - ha! Says the guy who drives two hours to a bar and doesn’t even know if he’ll get laid,’ you retort. ‘And don’t you worry, cowboy, these pictures will definitely work for both the ranch and Tinder.’

His frowns. ‘What do you mean for the ranch?’

‘I mean for the website and social media. Honestly, I’m surprised there aren’t any pictures of you on there already. You guys would get so much business you’ll have to turn people away.’

He cocks an eyebrow, arrogance seeping into his smile. ‘Oh, and why is that?’

You roll your eyes at his fishing for a compliment. ‘You know why, cowboy.’

‘Enlighten me, darlin’,’ he insists with a wink. ‘I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.’

You put the cap back on the lens and reprimand, ‘What did I say about your ego last night?’

You avoid his gaze as you unwittingly steer the conversation into dangerous waters. You probably shouldn’t be bringing up anything from the night before - at all. There’s no alcohol to blame in the bright light of day though. Somehow, just being around this cowboy is enough to cloud your better judgement and make you say reckless things.

When you finally peer at him out of the corner of your eye, he casts you no more than an amused glance. Polishing off his lunch and dusting his hands, he looks away to watch the horses.

The morning hours before passed with no mention of what transpired by firelight. All the tension that has built up between you two in the dark burned off with the daybreak mist, and you’re feeling a lot lighter after your little bedtime distraction. And in the absence of any suggestive ogling or innuendoes from the cowboy, you conclude that you must have gotten away with it. All you are is a bit saddle sore, but nothing too serious, and you ride on with little difficulty. 

An easy camaraderie has set in between you and Jack after surviving your first night together in the mountains. The banter packs a bit more punch now that you are no longer complete strangers, and you spend the morning trading horsey stories.

Jack learned to ride on his uncle’s farm. His first pony belonged to his older cousin who lost interest in the sport, so he spent years riding Sparkles, resplendent in matching pink bridle and saddle, until he outgrew her. He worked in and around the equestrian circuit until Champ offered him the job ten years ago, after meeting at a rodeo.

The conversation petered out when the lush green landscape gave way to drier sand, and suddenly, towering ahead, were the famous soaring red earth formations that you’ve been travelling the last two days for. Jutting out of the ground and chiselled by centuries of wind and rain, the echoing clops of the horses’ hooves bounced off the crimson stone as you rode under arches and past columns, dwarfed by the natural architecture.

After spending the better part of an hour exploring the red earth valley, you were taking a quick water break in the shade, when an idea struck you. 

‘Do you think I’d get a discount for my next trip if I helped you guys with your online marketing?’

Jack chuckled. ‘Already thinking about coming back, huh? I mean I’ve always been told that I’m charming, but a turnaround this quick-’

You leaned out of your saddle to give him a small slap on the shoulder for his cheek. ‘Don’t let it get to your head, cowboy. I’m doing it for selfish reasons - a project like this would be a great addition to my portfolio.’

‘What exactly do you do for a living?’ he asked.

Capping your water bottle, you fastened it to its holder. ‘Branding and marketing. I work at an agency now, but someday I want to start my own business, so I always take on projects on the side when I have time.’

‘And you didn’t even bring your own equipment?’ he teased.

You pouted. ‘C’mon, let me borrow yours. I won’t drop it, I promise.’

With a dramatic sigh, Jack relented, ‘You know I can’t say no to you, darlin’.’

Now, hours later, he clearly wishes that he did. Jumping onto his feet, he leans down and unceremoniously plucks the camera from your hands, prompting an indignant cry.

‘That’s it,’ he grunts. ‘I’m laying down the law. No more pictures of me today.’

You shrug, not bothering to look up as he walks away towards the saddlebags. ‘Joke’s on you, cowboy! I got more than enough for your Tinder profile and the ranch.’

At the unexpected click of the shutter, your head snaps up to see Jack grinning at you from behind the camera a couple of feet away. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Taking photos for your profile,’ he replies triumphantly.

You pull your hat down low over your face and grumble, ‘Stop it! I’m covered in sweat and dirt.’

He scoffs. ‘So am I! Didn’t stop you though, did it?’

Ugh. Does this insufferable man not understand that sweat and dirt only adds to his appeal?

You grouse, ‘And how are you going to be able to help with my profile? You’ve never even heard of the app.’

Jack crouches down to pack the camera securely in a saddlebag, peering at you over his shoulder. ‘I’m a man. Surely my opinion would count for something.’

Oh, he doesn’t need to tell you that. He’s all man. One whose very tight jeans are practically straining against his pert backside while he rearranges the packing on one knee.

Standing up, Jack whistles at the horses grazing nearby. He turns to you and says, ‘Come on, darlin’, no more clownin’ around on my watch. We got some ground to cover to get to our camp for tonight.’

You groan half-jokingly, climbing to your feet and grumble, ‘Yes, sir.’

You notice the way he stiffens. There’s a twitch in his neck as if he’s holding himself back from turning towards you, and his jaw shifts like he’s grinding his teeth. When you walk up behind him, he clears his throat deliberately and busies himself with the tack as the horses trot lazily back towards you.

Interesting.

You reach out to rub Scotch on the nose when he approaches, giving him half of the apple you saved for him from lunch. You keep an eye on Jack, your mind whirring, as you saddle up for the afternoon.

Turns out the cowboy wasn’t joking. It’s a seriously hard ride, with long stretches of cantering over flat ground. It’s as exhilarating as it is hard on your body - your calves and thighs are burning, your shoulders ache, and you start to actually worry if you’ll be able to carry on tomorrow. If you even survive this afternoon, that is.

You’re on what feels like the hundredth backbreaking canter streak of the day. Jack and Whiskey a safe four horse-lengths ahead, Bourbon following behind you and Scotch. The sun is veiled by clouds, but the heat is no less forgiving. You’re sweat-soaked to the bone, hair sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck. You’ve never been so desperate for a shower and a cold drink.

You see Jack stand up in his stirrups and turn around in his saddle to check on you. You must look like hell, because he takes mercy on you and holds up a hand to signal the end of the lope. When Scotch slows down to a walk next to Whiskey, he asks, barely winded, ‘You ok, darlin’?’

Panting for air, you reach desperately for your water. ‘Are you trying to kill me, cowboy? You remember what I said about the gym last night, right?’

He chuckles, taking a drink of water himself. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’m pushing you, but there’s somethin’ I want to show you before we lose the light.’

You swipe at a bead of sweat running down the side of your cheek with your clothed shoulder, too tired to sit up straight in the saddle anymore. You point a threatening finger at him. ‘It better be worth it, or I swear I’ll have your head.’

Jack gives you an encouraging pat on the back. ‘I promise it will be. Come on, darlin’, I know you can do it.’

Despite your exhaustion, some baser instinct in you can’t help but preen at his words. Damn your need for approval and praise from the lips of a handsome man.

It’s another hour or so on the road when you discern a drop in temperature, the sun starting its descent for the day, though the sky remains bright. Jack slows you down to an easy trot, craning his neck, as if searching for something. Distracted by an itch on your ankle, deep inside your boots, you don’t notice Whiskey coming to an abrupt halt in front of you.

‘Whoa, sorry,’ you apologise, gathering up the reins last-second to stop Scotch from running straight into the chestnut’s rump. ‘I wasn’t paying atten- ’

You trail off when you look up, hands frozen awkwardly in mid-air as all your motor functions grind to a stop.

You’re not sure how or where it came from - an enormous field of wildflowers in bloom stretches before you, as far as the eye can see.

‘Did I deliver on that promise, darlin’?’

Air rushes into your lungs when Jack’s words register, and only then do you realise you’ve been holding your breath. Robbed of your faculties, you answer with a mute nod.

Jack smiles broadly at your speechlessness. ‘Come on. Let’s take a closer look.’

Scotch follows when Jack nudges Whiskey down the small slope. The meadow parts like softly lapping waves around the horses’ knees, a riot of colour and scent. If it was earlier in the afternoon, you’re sure there would be a muted buzz of honey bees hard at work. It’s mostly still at this hour, other than the whistle of grass and leaves brushing the horses’ legs as you make your way deeper into the field. 

Your eyes dart about, barely focusing long enough to recognise what’s in front of you - bluebells, woodland sage, verbena, daisies, foxglove - and far more that you can’t name off the top of your head. The sweet nectar is overwhelming, and when a breeze stirs, it washes over you like a gentle mist from a perfume bottle.

Slowly regaining your senses, a familiar sound catches your ear. Glancing to your left, Jack has his camera aimed at you as the horses walk slowly.

You grin, not caring that you’re a mess. Your knees brush when the horses drift into each other’s course. ‘Thanks for bringing me here, Jack.’

‘My pleasure,’ he tips his hat at you. ‘So - there’s a camp around three quarters of an hour’s ride away, but we can stay here tonight if you want to.’

Your chest swells excitedly at the prospect, but you demur, ‘Will it be too much hassle? We don’t have anything here.’

With a wave of his hand, Jack dismisses your doubts. ‘It’s just the two of us, it can be easily done. There’s a stream a short distance that way, which is all we need. I’ll take care of everything else.’

A grin breaks across your face. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble - I’d love to camp here tonight. Thank you.’

Jack nods. ‘Of course. Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

You don't want to contemplate how you’ll ever go back to an existence where you don’t have cowboys with gorgeous brown eyes telling you things like that. And you suppose you don't have to - at least for a few more days.

‘Can I help with anything?’ you offer.

He shakes his head adamantly, one hand outstretched as if to physically stop you. ‘Absolutely not. Stay here with Scotch and Pinto, take a breather, stretch your legs - I’ll get everything ready.’

When Jack and Whiskey return half an hour later, having loaded up on water and firewood, he finds both horses untacked and brushed down. A smile tugs at his lips - of course you wouldn’t listen to him. The tack and saddlebags are neatly laid out, the cooking supplies already unpacked in preparation for dinner.

Scotch and Pinto are lying down, hooves tucked tidily under themselves, snacking on grass and half-dozing. You’re sitting cross-legged next to the palomino, braiding daisies into his white mane. You look up when you hear Jack approach.

‘I moved us further down so we don’t set fire to the field,’ you joke, pointing at the slightly barer patch of land.

‘Well done, darlin’,’ he replies and dismounts, giving Whiskey a big pat before quickly unsaddling him. Tipping his face to the sky, he remarks, ‘I think we’ll have quite a sunset tonight.’

Despite it only being the second day of the trip, you and Jack seem to have settled into a comfortable rhythm. He sets up the fire while you shower, and then you feed the horses - dry feed with apple and carrot bits for tonight - while Jack nips off for his.

He doesn’t protest when you help with dinner - corn chowder and jacket potatoes are on the menu this evening. While Jack preps the vegetables for the soup, you oil, season and wrap the potatoes in foil, planting them directly into the fire for a slow roasting.

At the first sign of the sky turning colours, you set up your phone on timelapse, propping it against your water bottle behind the two of you, with the horses and the campfire in-shot as the sun starts to sink. You don’t have to worry about battery life as the solar chargers are fully charged from abundant sunshine these couple of days, and there will be electricity at the Halfway House when you get there tomorrow.

At some point, both of you stop what you’re doing to watch the sunset. The sky is stained blood orange, the colour dripping from the horizon to stretch across the field of wildflowers until it is awash in red. A flock of birds cut across the cloudless horizon in a homeward formation, their caws echoing in the valley.

The digital click of the shutter pulls you out of your thoughts.

‘Jack,’ you berate him half-heartedly.

‘Come here, darlin’,’ he shuffles closer and turns the camera around so the front is pointed at you both. You can see your reflection in the lens - and he presses the shutter-release.

The chowder is delicious, as has been everything Jack has made so far on the trip. But after dinner, when the plates have been washed and the sleeping bags rolled out, belly full but slumber not yet come knocking, and Jack asks if you want a nightcap with a twinkle in his eyes - you decide that’s your favourite time of the day.

He puts a kettle on the fire, and pulls a tin of cocoa from a saddlebag. ‘You want a hot chocolate? We can make it Irish.’

You chuckle. ‘Sounds good, cowboy.’

Steaming mugs in hand, Jack carefully makes his way to your sleeping bag, the fire tracing his silhouette in bright orange. You take one, legs crossed and elbows on your knees, thanking him before taking a ginger taste. 

A violent cough racks your frame, the potency taking you by surprise. ‘Jesus Christ - is this three-quarters whiskey?’

Jack cracks a roguish grin in your direction. ‘Maybe. But I bet you can take it, darlin’.’

Holy fuck. 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads over the planes of your cheeks, and you duck behind your drink. Under the cover of night, in that gravelly Southern drawl, his words wield an unholy power.

Not ready to spar yet, you take a steadying inhale and a long sip, the alcohol burning on its way down. You grab the camera that’s been lying closeby all evening and say, ‘Let’s go over the photos I took today. I might even let you choose which ones to use for your profile.’

He snorts in jest, but shifts closer so that he can see the screen. ‘Sure, I believe you, darlin’.’

For such a good-looking man, Jack doesn’t seem to have a vain bone in his body. He is complimentary of your photography, stopping you when you want to zoom past the reel of your scenic shots. Instead, he takes the time to politely appreciate the composition, framing and lighting. But whenever one of him shows up, it’s he who wants to fast forward, uncomfortable with the attention of seeing himself on film. 

When your drinks run low, Jack gets up to get more cocoa and hot water. You two are in the middle of an argument about the merits of (or according to him, the lack thereof) candid shots, after he vetoes one that you propose for Tinder.

‘Why that one?’ he disputes, collecting your mug. ‘I’m not even looking at the camera!’

‘That’s the whole point!’ you rebut. ‘It’s natural and in the moment. It’s a great photo of you!’

You ignore him as he grumbles while he mixes the cocoa. You click all the way through the reel, reaching the last photo of the day - the selfie of the two of you at sunset. Glancing up to make sure Jack is still occupied, you steal a moment to really study at the shot. 

It’s a flattering take, the lighting and angle kind on you. You admire the way Jack’s eyes crinkle warmly at the corners, one side of his moustache tilted up with his smile, tidy teeth peeking out from behind that wicked mouth.

This damn cowboy.

Accidentally, your finger brushes a button on the dial, taking you to the top of the SD card. What comes on screen first appears innocuous enough - but when your gaze focuses, you freeze and your jaw drops.

Jack’s just poured a tall measure of whiskey into each mug when he notices you’ve fallen completely motionless, camera still in your hands. With a frown, he leans over to see why.

‘Jesus Christ!’ he swears loudly, leaping forward to snatch it away from you, nearly knocking over both drinks in the process. He just about tosses the machine away as if it burns him. ‘Shit, fuck, shit. Fuck!’

You haven’t heard him cuss much yet on the trip, and you’re not sure if that’s what triggers it, but suddenly you’re laughing so hard that your chest heaves and your lungs ache. Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you gasp for breath, what you saw on the screen seared into your memory.

It’s a photo Jack took of himself in what you assume is a bathroom mirror, his left hand holding the camera. Something about him is different, maybe his hair is a bit shorter, more slicked back. A flannel shirt hangs unbuttoned on his firm body, just like yesterday when he was undressing at the lake. It’s innocent enough up to this point.

Lower still, his belt with the now familiar flask buckle dangles undone, jeans shoved carelessly just past his pelvis. His large hand - which you’re now used to seeing deftly grasping the reins or resting on his thigh as he rides next to you - is wrapped around the base of what appears to be a very generously sized, very hard cock.

You just wish you’d been granted a few more seconds to peruse before Jack ripped the camera from you.

Finally, you wheeze, ‘Who takes nude pics on a DSLR?’

Jack runs a palm over his face and sighs. ‘You saw the state of my phone, the camera doesn’t work. The pictures were for my ex, she lived two states away and we didn’t see each other much. I thought I deleted them ages ago.’

You make grabby hands at the fresh hot chocolates, which he passes to you. You squeak, ‘I’m not drunk enough for this.’

Even in the dark, you can see the tips of his ears turning beet red, and you don't think you're imagining the insecurity in his tone as he mutters, ‘Sorry, that was embarrassin’.’

‘Why are you sorry? I didn’t see anything you should apologise for,’ you reply truthfully, swirling your drink, the hot steam warming your nose as you take a sip. 

Jack peers at you with a bemused frown. ‘No?’

His gaze follows as you lick an errant drop of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. You add slyly, ‘I don’t see anything to be embarrassed about, either.’

‘Is that so?’ He hums thoughtfully, a self-assuredness squaring his broad shoulders as he leans towards you. ‘Does that mean you liked what you saw then, darlin’?’

It’s a loaded question. You give him a lopsided smile, and with more bravado than you feel, you quip, ‘I don’t know - I’ll have to take a closer look, cowboy.’

He holds your challenging stare when he knocks back a mouthful of his drink, and smacking his lips, he grins, ‘All you have to do is ask.’

Batting your eyelashes ironically, you half-joke, ‘Do I have to say please, too?’

Jack breathes out hard through his nostrils, a strangled laugh caught in his chest. He chides, ‘Behave, darlin’.’ 

And with two little words, he turns the tables on you and shoves you up a metaphorical wall. The shudder that ripples through your body at being told to behave by this cowboy doesn’t escape his keen observation, and his lips quirk in a cocksure manner. 

Jack opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted by a quick succession of pings from your phone, which has been silent since the start of the trip. The sound is alien in the quiet of the mountains.

Your brow wrinkles in confusion. ‘Uh - what’s happening?’

It might be wishful thinking on your part, but disappointment seems to flash across Jack’s features as you change the subject.

‘There’s a weather station nearby. Sometimes we get the splash off,’ he explains.

You give him an enquiring look. ‘You know what I’m going to do now?’

Jack sighs in resignation. ‘I won’t be able to get away with this Tinder business, will I?’

‘Don’t be so glum about it, cowboy, it’s fun,’ you wink. ‘First things first - do you have a Facebook account?’

Lying on your stomach, your pillow tucked under your chest and your socked feet up in the air behind you, you look like you’re settling in for the long haul. Jack rearranges himself accordingly, rolling up his sleeping bag and reclines into it like it was a beanbag. With a deep drag of his drink, he takes stock of the situation. 

First, Champ tries to set him up with you. 

And now, you’re trying to set him up with an online dating account.

If questioned a few moments ago, he would still have thought that he was the cause of your little show last night. Right now - he’s not so sure anymore.

He’d been on the cusp of sleep when he heard you - a whimper that would’ve passed him by if the fire had cackled, or if a breeze had rustled the leaves in the trees. But in that window of perfect silence, he heard you. It paralysed him, sending blood rushing everywhere but his head, and he was up for hours, until his erection was eventually forced to dissipate from literal exhaustion.

Today has been something of a struggle, but he has bouts of sleeplessness every now and then, and even when it gets really fucking bad - he copes. He knows for a fact that you haven’t noticed. Hell, even his own team can’t pick up on it unless it’s been three nights and he literally trips over his feet walking on the fourth morning.

On the upside, at least the fatigue has forced him to keep his head on whatever task is at hand, sparing no room for thoughts about what he heard in the dark. But when you said ‘yes, sir’ earlier with such casual nonchalance, and the way you so boldly met him blow for blow just now - it took him all he’s got to fucking physically hold it together.

He’s not sure how it’s gone from that to you setting him up on Tinder, and by extension, with other women - in so fervent a manner.

Has he been reading you wrong this whole time? He’s barely taken a break from flirting with you, and he knows he’s not imagining your reactions to him when he pushes you a bit harder - just so he can see your eyes widen and hear your breath hitch - for him.

Watching you type on your phone with gusto, shooting questions at him - what’s your email address? How old are you? Do you want to link your Tinder account to your Facebook? - he wonders if he's lost his touch without realising it.

It’s been a couple of years since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend. She was sweet but his heart wasn’t in it, and the long-distance didn’t help. It’s been the odd one night stand here and there since, and while he’s not one to brag, his record is pretty damn near perfect.

Not that there’s much competition in this neck of the woods - well, Tequila puts up a good fight if they’re on a night out together. But right now, he’s the only man for miles and miles, and somehow, he’s still losing.

So he tops up his mug (it’s mostly just whiskey now), and he drinks until you reach out and poke him on the knee, grinning from ear to ear. Jack bites the inside of his cheek and wishes you wouldn’t smile at him like that. Not when he can’t figure you out.

You wear the fireside glow so well, like you’ve always spent your days in the saddle, traversing the Wyoming hinterland, and ending your nights at the warmth of a campfire. 

Like you belong here.

‘What do you think?’ you prompt him, tipping the screen towards him.

He takes your phone and studies it. It’s a photo of him that you took this morning, with his age and job listed on top of it in the bottom left corner. He shrugs. ‘I don’t know, you tell me. I have nothing to compare this to.’ 

Undaunted by his uninspired response, you swipe through enthusiastically, showing him the other uploads. ‘Look, I took some pictures from your Facebook page too. Trust me, you’ll be knee deep in pussy before you know it, cowboy.’

He chokes on his drink, which draws a chortle from you. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. ‘Are you always so crass, darlin’?’

You salute him with your almost empty mug. ‘Only when nefarious cowboys spike my hot chocolate with way too much whiskey.’

He huffs a laugh. ‘One more or should we call it a night?’

‘We can’t go to bed yet, setting up your account is only step one. I still have to show you how to swipe right,’ you protest, but the screen abruptly goes blank when you tap on it. ‘Shit, the connection’s gone!’

‘Praise the Lord,’ Jack proclaims, turning his palms heavenward in relief. His knees creak when he gets up to add more wood to the fire. ‘What do you want to do now, then?’ 

You put your phone away reluctantly. ‘I don’t know. What do you usually do with guests?’

‘Depends,’ he grunts when he sits down, close to you. ‘If the Kingsman were here, we’d play poker and darts.’

‘I got to say I’m glad they’re not here, then,’ you say with a wrinkle of your nose. It’s getting colder, so you sit up and drape the cosy blanket across your shoulders. When the idea comes to mind, you almost leap up from your seat in excitement. ‘Oh I know! How about a game of never have I ever?’

Jack scoffs. ‘Are you fourteen?’

‘It’s a classic. Please? It’ll be fun,’ you needle, waving the now half-empty bottle at him. ‘We still have to finish this off.’

He pins you with a stern look. ‘We’ll get wasted.’

You shrug with a cheeky grin. ‘So? I’m on holiday, and we’re halfway there already.’

‘Just don’t blame me for your inevitable hangover tomorrow, darlin’,’ he replies in capitulation.

‘I’ll give you a get out of jail card,’ you assure him. Rubbing your hands together, you jump right into it. ‘Ok, I’ll start - never have I ever had a dog.’

Jack drinks, repositioning his long limbs so that he’s sat with one leg outstretched, and the other bent at the knee. He asks, ‘You’re not a dog person?’

‘I love dogs, just never had the space in the city,’ you answer. ‘I’m the designated dog sitter for all of my friends and neighbours though.’

Setting the bottle down between you, Jack continues, ‘Never have I ever had a cat.’

You drink and muse, ‘I miss having a cat - haven’t had one since I was a kid. Maybe I’ll look into adoption when I get home.’

Travel comes up next. You drink at his never have I ever been to Asia (you went backpacking all over for two months after graduation), and he drinks at your never have I ever been to Europe (he travelled to Greece for the Olympics when he worked as a groom for a short stint). 

You trade several more benign questions until, with an impish grin and a rush of alcohol-induced adrenaline, you tilt your head to one side and change the direction of the game. ‘Never have I ever - sent nudes.’

‘That’s not fair!’ complains Jack as you giggle, thrusting the bottle towards him.

‘I’m the guest, I don’t have to play fair,’ you retort.

‘Two can play this game,’ he shoots back, narrowing his eyes playfully. ‘Never have I ever used Tinder.’

‘Well played, cowboy,’ you smirk, grabbing the whiskey from him and taking a sip. After a moment’s consideration, you divulge, ‘Never have I ever had a one night stand.’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline, his voice deep as he comments, ‘So you’re one of them good girls, huh?’

Teeth catching your bottom lip, your answer echoes so clearly between your ears that for a moment, you thought you’d said the words out loud.

I can be. For you.

‘Always been a relationship kinda girl,’ you admit, somewhat belatedly, as he takes a sip.

He smiles, then with a wriggle of his eyebrows, he fires his next shot. ‘Never have I ever - fancied a cowboy.’

Your mouth hangs open in bewilderment, your heart threatening to hammer its way out of the confines of the ribcage. Is he drunk? 

Well, you both are.

He’s watching you, his posture loose and relaxed. There’s no deviousness in his gaze, not even the playful kind. If anything, he appears - genuinely curious?

You suppose you could lie, but… you don’t want to. Keeping your eyes on him, you pluck the whiskey from his grasp. You add high-handedly, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of cowboys before you. So many, you wouldn’t believe.’

A lazy smirk curls his lips as he watches you take a swig. ‘Sure, darlin’ - what with all the ranches you’ve been to.’

Dangling the bottle in front of his face in a challenge, you retaliate. ‘Never have I ever fancied a guest.’

Instead of reaching out with his fingers, Jack drags himself across the sleeping bag so he’s practically hovering over you to grab the whiskey. Echoing your words, he says, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of guests before you.’

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He’s so close you’re tempted to count the whiskers on his neatly trimmed beard.

‘It’s your turn, darlin’,’ rasps Jack, but you’re immobilsed by the brush of his calloused fingers against the tips of yours, planted on the sleeping bag.

You stammer, coming up blank. ‘Um - uh - never have I ever - ever -’

Jack gives you a crooked grin. ‘Need some help?’

Throat dry, you can only nod.

He leans in, his exhale hitting the shell of your ear, and he delivers the coup de grace. ‘Never have I ever touched myself thinking of said cowboy.’

Your eyes widen and you stop breathing. Oh fuck. He heard you. He knows. 

Turns out you weren’t quiet enough after all.

And yet - you can’t bring yourself to be ashamed, not when he’s staring you with something that looks a lot like reverence.

You realise you haven’t addressed the gauntlet he’s thrown down at your feet. Bringing the whiskey to your lips, you confess with a wet gulp of whiskey, the liquid sloshing hollowly in the almost empty bottle when you place it down next to you.

The tension thrums between the two of you like some quantum disturbance, one that’s been building and ebbing for the last forty-eight hours. The air grows thick, his eyes dropping to your mouth the same time his rough palm moves to cover the back of your hand, startling you. Misjudging his proximity, your nose knocks into his cheek when you turn your head, and a quiet gasp slips past your lips when you feel his hot breath brush the hollow of your neck -

So caught up in the moment, it takes you three long seconds to realise that the two of you have suddenly broken apart, and three more for your head to grasp why. 

The ringtone blaring from your phone is deafening in the tension-laden silence. Across the bright screen, your ex’s name flashes clearly. 

Motherfucking cockblocking asshole.

Before you can unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth to protest - or ask him to please stay - Jack has gotten onto his feet with a rueful smile and a shake of his head. Scooping up his sleeping bag and tucking it under one strong arm, he reaches for a bottle of water that he filled up earlier and places it next to your pillow, knowing that you’ll need it in the morning.

Even in the shadows, you can discern his eyes sliding over your face. His whispered words barely reach you as he turns on his heels. ‘Good night, darlin’.’

You let the call ring out.

It’s still dark when you feel a hand grip your shoulder, pulling you out of a shallow slumber.

‘Jack?’ you croak, rubbing your eyes that are sticky with sleep. ‘Is something wrong?’

He shakes his head with a reassuring smile that you can barely see in the din. ‘No, I just wanted to show you somethin’. Put on your shoes and bring your blanket, darlin’, it’s cold.’

Even wrapped up in fleece, you huddle into yourself as you follow him. He leads you past the dying fire and snoozing horses, a thermos in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of a battered thick denim jacket. 

You stumble when your feet catch on knots in the grass, and Jack reaches out to steady you, his reflexes fast even in this ungodly hour.

When your sight slowly adjusts to the darkness, you see that you’re approaching what you presume is Jack’s sleeping bag on the ground. He nudges you gently towards it with a quiet, ‘Make yourself comfortable, darlin’.’

You do, hugging your knees to your chest, your icy fingertips trying to find warmth under the  blanket. Jack settles down next to you, and noticing your shiver, he wraps his extra quilt around your shoulders.

‘Tea?’

‘Yes please.’

The thermos warms your hands as you hold it, hot steam hitting your face as you drink carefully so you don’t burn your tongue. You’re too groggy (and more than a bit hungover) to try to figure out what is going on, and Jack doesn’t enlighten you, happy to sit in the silence as you pass him the bottle. The tea burns a comforting trail down to your stomach, warming you from the inside.

You don’t have to wait long for what comes next.

It starts with the faintest of glows. The ghost of your breath misting in front of your face. The distant, backlit profile of the Bighorn. The outline of bush and flora, then the textures fill in as the light swells. And without warning, the dawn breaks, colour spilling across the field of wildflowers, like a light has been switched on. 

A light fog hangs in the air, gently refracting the morning rays into an iridescent sheen. In every direction, the ground is carpeted by a sea of summer blooms. It looks like a page ripped straight out of a book that starts with the age-old refrain of once upon a time. 

You turn to Jack. He’s watching you closely with a smile, hair sleep-mussed, the sunrise casting him in rose gold.

It might have been you. It might have been him. It might not matter in the grand scheme of things. 

The next thing you know, your shoulders bump and your lips meet. A sigh catches in your throat when he takes your lower lip between his, dragging slowly and sweetly, the wet friction and the tickle of his moustache on your Cupid’s bow chasing a shiver down your spine. 

When he pulls back, he traces the tip of his nose across your cheek before tucking it behind your ear, his arm closing in around your waist.

‘Happy birthday, darlin’.’

More notes: They're going to get to the Halfway House next chapter. Just FYI 👀 I've really made you guys wait for the smut for this one, I swear I didn't plan it this way, but here we are. In the meantime, I'm going to try not to psyche myself out because I haven't written any smut since Consent ended. But I'll worry about that later, for now, thank you for reading and for the wonderful feedback so far - comments and reblogs are so appreciated as always!

Horsey notes (optional reading): This part is a bit thin on horses so this is quite random. Horses love treats - carrots, apples and polo mints will all be devoured. Make sure the treats aren't cut too small to encourage horses to chew before they swallow. Carrots can be broken into 2 or 3 pieces, and should be fed horizontally instead of vertically, to encourage chewing. Apples can be quartered or halved. When feeding, stretch out your hand flat, don't curl up your fingers or you can accidentally get bitten!

[aliceisathome]

Was busy over the weekend so am only now catching up with My Stand In. Honestly, why do people make me be sociable? I'd much rather stay in and watch BLs ffs.

So... JOE wtf are you doing? Wut has offered help and nope, you're going to take the job as Tong's stunt man because you're too proud to accept his offer. Grr. You are your own worst enemy (not that we didn't know this already).

The bar scene was so tense - when the guy, the almost stand in for Ming wearing the same jacket, approached Joe my shoulders were up around my ears. Up is so good at looking completely contemptuous btw - if anyone ever looked at me like that I would just shrivel and die.

Jim, your 'Khun Ming doesn't drink' line would be a lot more convincing if we hadn't just seen him sippng from a glass of booze. Just saying. And I can't believe you (literally) ran away and left Joe to his fate with your drunk boss. Tut. When do we get to see Mike again? I've missed Inntouch's little face - the new haircut suits him.

I gasped when Joe nearly smashed the couple mugs.

Why did you turn down all the help from nice people Joe? First Wut now Sol Is it because, despite everything, you still want Ming? (hint: yes) And so Ming wants Joe to be a stand in for himself but Joe thinks he wants a stand in for Tong (again). And next week Ming will discover that it wasn't Tong's back at all so he was always a stand in for Joe. Gah.

The layers are layering.

I can't WAIT to see Ming lose it when he finds out the back he fell for was Joe's all along. His meltdown will be epic and I am here for it. But the thing I want the most (other than his utter humiliation and loss of all he holds dear naturally) is Tong's reaction when Ming discards him. This is a man who's been stringing Ming along for years. YEARS. He drops crumbs, is jealous when Ming pays attention to anyone else etc so what is his reaction to Ming coming to his senses and pulling away from his manipulative arse going to be?

Actually Tong reminds me of Ter from Wandee Goodday - also Wal from My Dear Gangster Oppa and the 'friend' in Roommates of Poonduck 304. They're all characters who absolutely know the MC is in love with them. They accept EVERYTHING that the poor man offers and uses them, stringing them along purely for either what they can get materially or for an ego boost. Or both. I loathe this type of character. LOATHE. I want to see these emotionally manipulative bastards get their comeuppance* </rant over>

Roll on next week. Can't wait! And now I have to cleanse my palate with Saturday's Wandee Goodday

*Roommates is a great little series with some seriously good chemistry and the cafe scene where Jae Yun finally discovers that he's been used for all those years is gutting.

[mvltisstuff]

meltdown - j.h.k

summary: y/n has to deal with a drunk jonah who won’t stop ranting about his girlfriend

jonah hauer king x reader

a/n: ur funny if you think i proofread this

“hey, y/n!” the giggly voice of one of jonah’s friends come through the phone. jonah had been out with his friends for the night, wanting to see them because he’d been so busy filming. y/n was thrilled to see him with his friends again, so she just decided to stay home and spend some time alone. “so, jonah’s like plastered, and he’s refusing to let any take him back to you. can you pick him up before he sleeps on the bar floor?”

“yeah, of course,” she sighs with a light grin on her face. “i’ll be there in 10, make him drink some water or something.”

she began the casual drive over to the bar they had been hanging out at. jonah told y/n he wasn’t going to drink that much, but clearly he made no promises.

“i’m not leaving until my girlfriend comes to get me,” jonah demands, slurring his words out at his friends.

“mate, she’s on her way, chill out!” his other friend laughs, trying to force some water into his mouth to sober him up. when y/n walks in, she’s confronted with the smell of liquor and the neon lights in her eyes. the music was blaring, making jonah’s voice even louder than it normally is when he’s drunk. “i’m getting your stuff, don’t even dare try anything.”

when y/n spots his dark curls and fidgeting fingers, she walks over to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, making him jump. “ready to go?”

“no, sorry,” he mumbles. “i’m waiting on someone.”

“like who?”

“my girlfriend, she’s supposed to pick me up and i’m not leaving if she’s not with me,” y/n smiles at his persistence, wanting her here with him so bad. he loved the night with his friends, surely having a great time, but y/n lights up whatever room she’s in.

“uh-huh,” she teases. “so who’s this mystery girl?”

“my y/n’s coming to pick me up,” he tells her sweetly, still having no idea that she’s next to him. “and i reeeeeally love her, she’s my soulmate and i would run across the globe a bajillion times for her, so if you’re looking for anyone, it’s not me.” his words mush together, speeding out of his lips before y/n walks to find his friends.

“oh good! did you find him?”

“i did, he has no fucking clue who i am, though,” she laughs. his friends eyes widen, his mouth dropping slightly.

“good luck with him,” he pats her shoulder, handing her jonah’s coat as she walks back over to see him slumped in his hand.

“jonah, cmon,” she puts her hand on the side of his face. “time to go home.”

“y/n?” he squints his eyes open, looking her right in the eyes. “i’m so happy you’re here, people keep trying to take me home and this girl would not walk away!”

“well, i’m here now, darling,” she helps him stand up, letting him place some of his weight on her as they stumble to the car. she yanks the door open, making him sit down and buckle. “have some of this,” she hands him her water bottle.

“can i play some music? my music?” he asks, smirking.

“knock yourself out,” she hands him the cord, letting him play the little mermaid soundtrack as he belts out to poor unfortunate souls in the speaker. y/n chuckles in the corner, trying to focus on the road and not her wasted boyfriend.

when she pulls into the driveway, she has to drag jonah out of the car to make him stop singing, trying not to wake up the neighbors by his drunken sounds. “alright, go upstairs and into the bathroom.”

jonah takes slow steps in front of y/n on the stairs, almost missing a few here and there but she keeps a steady hand on his back. he doesn’t release a hold on her hand in the bathroom, leaving her with one free hand to help him brush his teeth and get ready for bed. he tries to give her sly kisses while brushing his teeth, but she has to almost leave to room to get him to stop. “baby, if you don’t brush your damn teeth-“

“fine!” he complains, finishing up and moving into the bedroom. he falls facedown on the bed, y/n sighing at him as he cackles and sits up. she helps him move all the blankets before climbing in next to him. he rolls closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and putting his head on her chest.

“you know i love you, right?” he asks, sleepily.

“of course, jonah,” she looks, locking eyes with him. “you’re the only one for me.”

jonah blushes and grins like a little kid before shutting his eyes and falling asleep to one of y/n’s shows on the tv. she admires his soft expression, gently running her hands on his back to help him fall asleep.

[jacksdinonuggets]

Little Charlie & Vaggie Hcs!

All are my opinions and not canon. if you don't agree, just don't say anything.

~ Charlie ~

-age range around 3-6

-Absolute angel and optimist. she always sees the positives in things. she's so caring and loving.

-Loves stuffed animals and rainbows

-Lucifer and Vaggie are her caregivers.

-Lucifer found out by walking in on her regressing one day but was insanely supportive and made her a bunch of bath toys (Mostly ducks).

-I feel like she would tell Vaggie instead of her walking in or accidentally finding out.

-energetic kiddo who loves to play. Lucifer made a playground in the back of the hotel once they rebuilt it just for her.

-Speaking of the hotel, theres one secret room in the hotel that is a playroom that also has a nursery. its full of toys and kids books and agere gear. the nursery thats attached to it has two beds with small bars on the side. perfect for toddlers or babies!

-wears mainly hoodies or overalls.

-sometimes wears diapers but only when she's feeling really really small.

-if she slips involuntarily really young, Vaggie will give her some of her padding to use.

-loves to do art's and crafts and will paint rainbows on everything.

-would rather have a deco Paci instead of a plain one

-Juice and candy are all that she'll eat.

~ Vaggie ~

-Regresses pretty small, 1-4

-Charlie is her main caregiver but Lucifer babysits every once in a while

-not very active and would rather draw and play with toys then do physical games.

-Owns a lot of onesies and fun animal hoodies.

-Has to wear diapers or pull-ups. she slips out whenever she uses the big kid bathroom and often has accidents when she's too busy while in smolspace or when she puts it off too long.

-Very embarrassed by her needs and will get extremely red if you mention it when she's big

-Charlie buys her cute designs for her diaps and always gives tummy kisses when shes changing her.

-Has a cute red teddy bear with black horns.

-sometimes, when she's really deep in headspace, she'll just roll around on the ground or stick her limbs in the air.

-her wings do their own thing when she's small so Charlie has to constantly chase her around when she's flying.

-likes plain pacifiers rather than deco ones.

-almost never has tantrums but has sensory meltdowns.

-her autism gets a lot worse when small so she's very stimmy but very easily overstimulated.

-lullabies help her calm down as well as rocking her.

[ohlolme]

SFW no. 13, 14 and NSFW no. 1 and 4 for gojohime pls <3

omg thank you for the ask lovely anon <3

SFW

14. Who is the highest maintenance? Does the other mind?

well that’s obvious, Gojo “he was spoiled rotten” Satoru. Listen I just know in he’s a DIVA, but Utahime ain’t any better. The only difference is that Utahime likes to spoil herself, she’d take herself shopping or to her favourite bar, she’d buy herself her favourite cosmetics or clothes, but Gojo? Gojo loves to spoil himself but he loves to be spoiled even MORE!!! the only problem is that he’s picky as hell (canon confirmed thank you gege for that recent bonus comic) so Utahime gets even more annoyed with him, cause it’s hard to satisfy him lol however he actually LOOOVESS whenever she goes out of her to get something for him like sweets or favourite food. he’s just not very good at showing it well… (read as he’d still tease her instead of saying “thank you Utahime!! I love you Utahime!” like any normal person would)

13. Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

Damn I gotta go with Gojo again. Man is an insomniac alright, whereas Utahime hmm to make things funnier I’d say she sleeps A LOT. This woman loves her beauty sleep, and that’s how we end up in a situation where she always has to force him to sleep and he always struggles to wake her up lol they’re made for each~

BONUS I think we can all agree that Gojo sleeps best when he’s sleeping next to Utahime or has her in his arms :”)) he was actually surprised himself when he realised how easily sleep comes to him when he falls asleep next to her 🥹 alright they make me soft sometimes I’ll admit

NSFW

1. How often do they have sex, if at all?

Gojo would do it every day if he could, but man is busy so whenever they can plus Utahime is not always in the mood (she’s a mother of a bunch of problem kids. I bet she has an emotional meltdown every other week)

4. Oddest place they’d have sex?

CAR more specifically Ichiji’s car (Im so sorry my dude 😭) but it was a one time thing only because Utahime hated it (Gojo on the other hand oh he loved it~) but as Utahime declared “it was the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been NEVER AGAIN”

[thelonesomequeen]

Misogyny.

You don't see people make fun if men when their favorite team loses.//

I also want to respectfully disagree with this take.

This comparison implies that the love lives of these celebrities is part of the entertainment package that fans have a right to consume and have this level of emotional response to. This is exactly where the danger lies.

Is it natural to be curious/jealous? Sure. But when it gets to the stage of having meltdowns when your 'fave' dates someone you don't approve of, this is where the line has to be drawn.

Sports fans are allowed to have an investment in whether or not their team wins or loses. That's the nature of the beast, and it's natural. That's how the whole thing works. Sports franchises bank on us being invested. With the exception of the occasional street fight and bar brawl, there is no harm in this.

A singular man is nowhere near the same thing. Being a fan of this actor or that singer does not actually give us the right to an emotional investment, and therefore a say, in who they choose as partners.

Yeah, they may choose to share that they're in a relationship with X, Y or Z, but that's where it ends. Nobody is saying you have to like the woman he's dating. It's just none of his business whether you're happy about it or not. Your feelings on this topic are irrelevant to him.

And anyone falling for the 'internet boyfriend' scam...come on...we're adults here. That's on you, sorry to say. That's merely a vehicle to get butts into the seats at the cinema, not a seat at the table to make decisions on his personal life.

The approval of fans is neither desired nor required, and people trying to normalize this are out of line in a big way. Trying to imply that it's okay that fans are melting down about someone else's life and we should leave them alone...nah. We're heading down a dangerous road.

We aren't calling this nonsense out because 'we hate women'. We're calling it out because this behavior is entitled, unhinged, embarrassing and dangerous, and people trying to normalize it have to be shut down.

Well said 🦎

[actress4him]

Querencia 15 - Park Day

The enthusiastic response I got on the last piece I posted helped motivate me to keep going! This is the actual chronologically next chapter, coming in a month or two after Mind Control. Enjoy!

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Contains: referenced mind control, referenced parental abandonment, fear of abandonment, broken bone, a couple more warnings in the tags to avoid spoilers here

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Things have been fairly normal since the whole “supervillain getting in Jamil’s head and making him attack everyone” incident. Dagger is still a near-weekly problem, along with Meltdown and whoever else he happens to be hanging out with at the moment. Other villains come and go, too, some low-level Supers like Reaper and Gibbous, along with non-Super nuisances that the team does their best to curb, too - bank robbers and muggers and kidnappers and such.

No one has heard anything from or about Luna. Then again, no one had heard of her before the incident, either. Which means she’s probably still out there, and could very well be biding her time until she can strike again. None of them ever really talk about her, but Liliana can feel anxiety hanging in the air that wasn’t there before, especially on poor Jamil’s part.

Luna knows exactly where they live, what they look like without their masks on. Probably knows their names and where they work, thanks to rummaging through Jamil’s brain. So not only could she easily return, but she could also tell others the information she learned. They don’t know who she might be associated with. They managed to pin down Reaper one day and quiz him about her and any other new villains in town, but he was less than helpful on the subject.

Even if they could track her down and catch her, Liliana has learned from snippets of conversation that they really have nothing to do with her. It’s something she’s never thought of before, but one reason that there are still so many supervillains around is that there’s no way to arrest them. The government likely could detain them, but no one trusts that it would be humane or that the heroes wouldn’t also be captured in the process of trying to hand them over. Just the thought of the government locking them up makes Liliana sick to her stomach, villains or not.

Normal jails can’t handle them. Normal courtrooms can’t, either, in order to convict them to send them to jail. And no hero wants to be in charge of locking them away themselves, even if they did have the space and technology.

So all they can do for now is damage control, really. Try to stop their crimes as often as they can, try to disrupt whatever plans they have. She doesn’t envy the team their jobs. Between supervillains, regular criminals, and their day jobs, they’re constantly busy.

Every other Saturday, though, after everyone who’s working gets home, they make it a point to go do something together. Since Liliana’s been with them they’ve seen a couple of movies, gone to an arcade, had a picnic, gone to the mall, and eaten out at restaurants a few times. Every experience is a huge deal for her, though she tries to make light of the awe she feels. It’s just been so long since she’s done such normal, fun things. Sometimes she feels like she’s watching someone else’s life.

Today, they’re at the city park. No one can remember whose idea it was to start with, but “the children” - as Quinn likes to fondly dub Nari, Alex, and Jamil - went crazy over the thought of playing on the playground, so here they are. It’s late enough that all of the actual children have gone home. Jamil is trying out every slide, while Quinn judges Nari and Alex in a series of competitions on the monkey bars. Liliana watches everyone from the side, a small smile on her face, but every once in a while she glances over at the empty swings.

Swinging used to be her favorite. Especially on park or school swings like these, with the long chains that could take you so high you felt like you were flying. She and Mila used to see who could go the highest, and try to swing themselves right over the top bar.

It feels silly and childish now. She can’t swing herself right now, anyway. She healed another broken rib - on Nari this time - earlier this week, just a couple of weeks after the pain from Alex’s had finally faded. So there’s no way that she can pump the chains on a swing.

Still…she could just sit in one. That won’t hurt anything. Glancing over at the chin-up contest again, she makes her way over and settles into the plastic seat, gloved hands gripping the chains loosely. Her toes just barely reach the ground, giving her enough leverage that she can give herself a little push. The swing rocks gently. Liliana watches her sneakers as they brush across the dirt, back and forth. She pushes again and swings a little more. Such a simple motion, but it brings so many childhood memories flooding into her mind.

“May I give you a push?”

The sudden question makes her jump and look back over her shoulder, though she recognizes the voice. Jamil is standing behind her with a smile on his face, cheeks flushed from his adventures down the slides.

“Oh, um…y-you don’t have to, I’m…I’m fine.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like to, if you’d like to swing. If not, I’ll leave you be!”

Now her mind is at war. She automatically wants to say no, not wanting to inconvenience him or make him do things for her.

She also really, really wants to swing.

Somehow, without her actually deciding what to say, “Sure?” slips out.

“Alright, hang on!”

Suddenly, she’s flying through the air, and it’s exactly how she remembers it. Colors rush by as the wind blows her curls back off her shoulders, then tangles them around her cheeks again. She grabs onto the chains tighter. Her legs automatically fall into a pumping motion, toes pointing out at the horizon, her eyes bright with exhilaration.

Yes, it pulls at her rib a bit. But she finds she doesn’t really care.

She’s been swinging for a few minutes, oblivious to anything else around her, when another voice breaks in. “Hold on tight, I’m coming through!” A set of hands grab the swing by her hips and shove forward, higher and faster until she’s sure she actually is going to go over the top bar, or more likely, fall out the back of the swing. She squeals in shock, though this sensation is familiar, too. Then she’s dropped abruptly, her stomach following the motion, the swing’s momentum twisting it back and forth as it reaches the bottom again.

Alex is turned around watching her, laughing. He’d come up from behind and grabbed the swing, running all the way underneath it.

Her brother used to do the very same thing, back when she was small enough he could lift her.

“Did I scare you?”

“A, a little.” She’s smiling, though. She can’t help it, even with the pain in her side and the melancholy of missing what used to be.

These people…they treat her like a family should. Better than her family ever did, though she feels like a traitor for thinking it.

She shouldn’t fall for it. If her real family taught her anything, it’s that what seems like love and care won’t last and can’t be trusted. If her own flesh and blood eventually turned on her, then she can’t expect people who were strangers a few months ago to be any different.

But right now, she’s shoving those thoughts deep, deep down. She can worry about all of that later. Right now, for once, she’s going to let herself enjoy the moment.

Nari is shoving and punching Alex and playfully fussing at him for scaring Liliana, and Jamil has jumped up on the swing next to her, standing on one foot and pumping with his arms. She doesn’t move from her spot, just keeps smiling and watching their antics. They’re so full of life and joy, even with the stress they constantly face.

Before long Quinn takes up Jamil’s position without a word, and she’s swinging again. Alex and Jamil balance on the seesaw, attempting circus tricks, screaming like girls when Nari uses her power to make the metal move beneath them, which sends her into fits of laughter.

It’s late when they finally pile into Quinn’s car to head back to HQ. Everyone is tired in a contented way. Alex leans the passenger seat back practically into Nari’s lap, claiming he’s going to take a nap, while she kicks his headrest repeatedly and threatens him. Quinn clears his throat loudly, though, and quiet falls to let him focus and not overwhelm him with sound in the small space.

Liliana leans her head back and watches the moon out the sunroof. Her hands are tucked between her knees to keep her arms from brushing up against Jamil and Nari, who each lean into their respective doors to give her more space. It’s…peaceful. She’s pretty sure she hears someone snoring. She could fall asleep, too, honestly, which is surprising for her since she doesn’t usually feel comfortable sleeping unless she’s alone.

The motion of the car does lull her into a near-dozing state. Her eyes are closed and she’s absentmindedly trying to picture which turn they’re taking when someone gasps and the car suddenly jerks to one side. Liliana’s eyes fly open and she sits up abruptly. There’s a bump and a loud popping and hissing sound, then the car is swerving uncontrollably, headlights sweeping back and forth across the empty road.

The seconds seem to pass in slow motion. Her hands are gripping the seats in front of her, eyes fixated out the front windshield. A cacophony of screams and shouted words fill the car as the steeply sloped side of the road looms in front of them, cutting off abruptly as they tip over the side and begin to fall.

Gravity inverts, and for a moment she’s weightless before being slammed back down. Her temple smashes into something hard and unyielding. Images are swimming through the darkness around her - a cracked window, slumped figures. A beam of light making her wince and turn away.

Someone groans. The car shakes as a door is forced open.

“This one’s still awake.”

“Here, use the syringe.”

There’s movement around her, the click of seatbelts unbuckling too loud in her ears.

“Wait, why are there five?”

“What?”

“This one, who is she? She’s not one of the usuals, is she?”

“Doesn’t matter, just grab her.”

Something is very, very wrong, but she can’t make her body work to do anything about it. The darkness outside is creeping closer inward. She feels her seatbelt loosen and a pair of hands latch onto her, but the darkness closes in completely before she can protest.

[lewis-winters]

'doing a pinky swear' + any ship?

Sorry this took so dang long.

--

Don finds him sitting on a swing set in the quiet part of town.

In retrospect, he really should've anticipated this and gone here first, instead of frantically running around, shouting for a little boy who's too easily spooked by loud sounds to even consider walking toward the frantic, noisy people looking for him. This place, in contrast, is quiet, out of the way of the trick-or-treat crowds, and with as little overwhelming stimuli as possible. Not to mention the most familiar, since it's the playground he and Don's little sister play in on days Don is tasked to watch them. Hell, he's helped curb a few of their meltdowns on this very set of swings. It would've been the first place Don would run to, too, if he'd been as overwhelmed as David undoubtedly had been. But that realization is going to come later tonight, when he's back in his own bed, trying to doze off the excitement of the day. Right now, he's too busy being dizzyingly relieved to do anything but stare, open mouthed (and maybe a bit furious), at the shark-onesie clad David, currently focusing all his energy on idly kicking his little legs back and forth while silently munching on a full-sized twix bar without a single care in the world.

It takes a moment for him to notice Don at all. When he does, his face breaks out into a blinding smile.

That breaks the spell.

"David," Don hears himself babble, running forward until he has the little boy picked up and squeezed in his arms. David's squirming a little, caught by surprise by the sudden bout of rare affection, but Don can't bear to let him go just yet. Even if he's sure David's getting chocolate all over his Han Solo vest. "Your mom said you just ran off. She has so many people looking-- it's so cold out-- why'd you do that, huh? do you know how long everybody's been looking for you? Nobody even saw you run-- why would you run, huh? You left your tap-&-speak-- somebody could've snatched you up-- why'd you do that?"

David doesn't have an answer for him. He just squirms, breaking through Don's relief enough to appeal to his common sense. The older boy puts him down, immediately, not wanting to deal with an inopportune meltdown smothering David might cause. Though he does hold on to him by the scruff of his onesie, just in case he decides to bolt one more time.

He doesn't. In fact, David stays as still as he can manage, swaying back and forth in place while patting Don's arm, sheepishly, like he does when somebody catches him doing something he can infer is naughty. His own silent apology.

Don lets out a shaky sigh of relief. He's not allowed to swear in front of the kids he babysits. It's a personal rule of his. But right now, with his erratically beating heart, he thinks he's earned an exception. It's not like David's going to repeat it, anyway. "Shit."

David's patting increases in frequency. He even goes so far as to hum, distressed.

"No, no, it's ok," Don is quick to soothe, regretting that he doesn't have David's tap-&-speak tablet with him. He takes David's hand, instead, and squeezes it the way he knows he likes. "Please. Please, don't do that again. You have to promise."

David shakes his head yes. Hard enough for the hood of his onesie to fall off his head. Immediately, Don puts it back on, mindful of the cold, and attempts to wipe off the chocolate on David's face with a crumpled up tissue he happened to have in his pocket. The kid usually doesn't allow people to do this to him, the repeated drag of tissue paper on his skin a bit of a sensory trigger. But this time, almost as if he knows Don needs this, he chooses to tolerate it, if only for a little while. By the time he feels he's significantly clean, he shakes out of Don's grasp and goes to pick up his pumpkin (half-empty, now, possibly due to all the snacking) off the ground.

Letting out another shaky breath of relief, Don holds out his hand, all fingers curled up into a fist, except his pinky, which he extends in offering. David hates holding hands, but this is his exception. "C'mon kid, let's take you to your mom."

Happily, David intertwines his pinky with Don's. "Thank you, Don."

"Yeah, it's-- what did you just say!?"

Starting to rock back and forth between his heels and his toes, David looks up at him, meeting his eyes for just a split second, before choosing to look at the space next to his head, instead. "Thank you, Don," he repeats. "Thank you, Don."

Don does his best to swallow back his excitement, not wanting to spook the kid. With great effort, he starts them on walking. "You're welcome, Dave."

David starts swinging their connected hands back and forth in lieu of rocking. He blinks, rapidly. Happily. "… Don."

Oh, this night is just full of surprises. "Y-Yeah?"

"What's shit?"

--

I got this idea post-Halloween after I did that "what Halloween candy do I think Easy boys would love the most" ask game and was sad that I couldn't really write or post it because Halloween was over. But this has given me an excuse to unleash it upon all of you. So have some baby!Web (6) and baby!Hoob (15) based off that one time when I was like 9? and we were at a playground near my aunt's house and my non-speaking cousin the grown ups had put me in charge of (because I was the eldest cousin-- the parentification was bad) ran off because the grass gave him sensory issues. He nearly gave me a heart attack. And then he gave his parents a heart attack by speaking for the first time when I brought him back. That was a stressful day. Yes, I cried.

[boyswanna-be-her]

Unrelated to anything else other than the desire to be the best me possible, I've been getting sober all on my own and it sucks! So bad! No wonder people don't normally do this shit alone!

I've been making room in my life all year to change my relationship with alcohol. It's a big part of why I've been spending very little time alone, staying super active and busy, busting my ass to never be bored.

And uh. I'm scared to be alone with myself in Colorado! I'm my own best drinking buddy, I'll be alone and lonely and far away from any cities, and the house I'm going to is basically an open bar.

I don't want feedback on this at all. I don't even want to discuss it. But I've really been working hard as fuck on my sobriety, and trying to vaguely express myself about it here because I don't have anywhere else to put it. And my brain is having a hard time reaching a new contentment/happiness set point without alcohol. I know it'll be worth it, but I haven't done life without self-medicating in more than a decade (barring the two months of sobriety i completed after having a total meltdown about jonathan's suicide). And it's fucking hard. I don't remember how to be bored, I don't remember how to get my brain to shut the fuck up at night. I'm scared that it's gonna be too hard and I'll fail, or that I'll get there but then being sober will be boring and not worth it and I'll drink again as a crutch and everyone will feel sad about that. I'm scared that there will never be enough activities and causes and friends to fill up the huge pit that alcohol has occupied in my life and self and personality since my 20s. I'm worried that when my parents finally notice that I stop after nursing one glass of wine all night, our relationship is going to deteriorate like it did the last time I tried to get sober.

But a bigger part of me just feels super lonely and tired of working so hard all in the dark, 24 hours a fucking day, so here I am weeping out of nowhere while I'm doing laundry and being super vulnerable for a bunch of people who I barely talk to and often don't even read my shit in good faith. Idk. Im in a rotten mood even though I'm doing so much good stuff. I wish everything I wanted didn't have to be so fucking difficult.

I need a hug so fucking bad it's unreal but there is not a single person I trust in my real life to know that I even am struggling in the first place.