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mythrae · 7 months

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Here With Me

Summary: After the Magic Mirror mysteriously appears in camp, Taversia discovers she is able to change aspects of her appearance — including her biggest insecurity.

Word Count: 2.1k (I think but probably a little bit more)

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), Tav struggling with being intersex, mostly fluff (no I have not gotten to the final Gale romance scene), implied smut at very end

Author’s Notes: Not beta'd so pls be nice.

Playing around with the Magic Mirror in the newest update, I was… surprised at how much you could change lol. Truth be told, Taversia was accidentally made intersex (when I selected default for genitalia I didn’t realize it was for the males vs females), but I think it’s an important part of her story that is now being explored, since she is in a relationship for the first time.

Also, song that also inspired the title/generally makes me think of Gale and Taversia’s relationship will be linked at the very end. Enjoy! :3

Click here to read on ao3 :)

After a long day of exploring through the city of Baldur's Gate for the first time, Taversia and her party finally made it back to camp.

As she was making the rounds and checking in on her companions, she noticed a strange glow coming from underneath the barn doors. She approached it cautiously, unsure of what light-filled being could be hiding right under their noses.

“Want me to go in with you?” Jaheira asked, grabbing the handles of her weapons in anticipation. “I won’t allow for stowaways in our camp… except for Yenna.”

The little girl, who found them in town earlier that day and followed them back to camp, waves in their direction. Taversia gives her a nod, and draws her own sword towards the doors.

“Looks like we need to do a better job watching who goes in and out here.” She replied to her druid companion, steadying her fighting stance and preparing for the worst. “On the count of three, we'll knock down the doors. One… two...”

Before either of them got the chance, the barn doors opened for them, a very excited wizard on the other side.

“Tav, my dear, come quick!” Gale says, “I just discovered something quite groundbreaking!”

Jaheira and Taversia shared a confused look. How did Gale get inside before either one of us noticed? Shrugging simultaneously, they followed behind Gale's stride as he leads them to the camp’s newest upgrade.

“Introducing… the Magic Mirror!” He announced triumphantly, waving his hands for added emphasis. As Taversia got closer, she saw that it looked like any old mirror. However, the reflective glass was replaced with what looked to be a magical realm, unlike anything she had ever seen before.

“Tales have been told of its legendary ability to permanently alter the appearance of one who gazed in it.” Gale explained. “However, only the Chosen Ones can change what they look like. I found it out the hard way, sadly — the Magic Mirror wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

“And how do you know so much about it?” Jaheira asked, more than a little suspicious of this mirror's true intentions.

“I’ve been studying magic my entire life, Jaheira.” Gale replied. “It’s a common legend amongst us wizards. But I never thought I’d see one with my own two eyes.”

“Do you know how it ended up here in camp?” Taversia asked. "Surely it can't have just showed up out of nowhere."

“No idea!” He answered, a little too enthusiastically. “Must be part of it's magic. Would either of you like to try it out?”

Jaheira immediately shook her head, declining the offer. “This kind of magic is not for me. Let me know how it goes, though.” With a wave of her hand, she walked back to her tent, leaving Gale and Taversia by themselves.

“Well,” He clasped his hands, looking at his partner eagerly, “would you be willing to try and see if you’re a Chosen One?”

“As long as you promise this won’t hurt me.” She replied, walking closer to the mirror, examining it carefully. “I don't think I want to change how I look, though.”

“And I don't want you to, my love.” He said, reaching for her hand, giving it a light kiss. “Just test it out for me and see what it all can do, okay?”

She smiled at him, nearly getting lost in her partner’s deep brown eyes. One of her favorite things to do when she's with him, but now was definitely not the time. “Of course. I’ll give you a full report.”

“Wonderful,” Gale said, letting go of her hand. “Good luck, soldier! See you on the other side.”

Taversia turned from him and gazed into the Magic Mirror, watching the hypnotic patterns of the magical realm move and change. Suddenly, she felt as she was being pulled in to the mirror itself, even though she was standing completely still.

So I guess I am a Chosen One, she thought, as the patterns moved faster and faster, eventually giving in to darkness. She brought her arms up to shield herself, hoping and praying that this wasn’t some vile trap placed in their camp by the Absolute…

When she opened her eyes, she saw herself — as if she was standing in front of a mirror. In front of her, an arrangement of pictures, buttons, all of them options for her to change who she was, what she looked like. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in her life.

Gale was right, I can change how I look! Taversia knew her wizard companion would be happy to hear that the magical legend was true. First, she noticed a selection of eight faces she could choose from. She pressed on the picture the first face and looked at her mirrored image.

Oh, gods. I don’t like that at all. She looked back down at the buttons in front of her, unsure what they all meant. How the Hells do I go back? The images in front of her were still a little foreign, learning this magical system as if she was learning to hold a sword for the first time.

By sheer luck, she pressed on a picture with an arrow pointing backwards, bringing her old face back.

There, that’s much better.

She looked through the other options. She could change how her hair was styled, the way she did her makeup, the tattoos and scars she bore, hells, she could even make herself look older than she actually was.

She didn’t even know what kind of magic this was, but it was truly mind blowing.

As she peeked through all the other options, there was one aspect she could change that caught her eye a little bit more than the others. She couldn't believe her eyes at first, but as she looked again, the possibility still remained.

The Magic Mirror gave the choice to change… one’s genitalia.

Taversia was born intersex. Thankfully, in her lifetime, she had never encountered harassment of bullying from being born this way. Simply because it never came up in conversation with others. It was definitely more of a… internal struggle, that she dealt with.

Before she met Gale, she had never allowed herself time to date, let alone share a late night tryst with anyone. So she was a bundle of nerves when they first shared a bed together. She was worried he would think of her differently, since she was born a woman, but did not have… well, to be frank, all the parts a normal woman would have.

Thankfully, her partner thought nothing of it. Gale assured her that he didn’t want her for her body, but for the woman he had grown to know and love. He was just glad he was getting the opportunity to be with her on a more intimate level.

But now, Taversia thought to herself, if I could change myself, change this part of who I am… would he like me more?

Or, she continued, would he like me less, if I wanted to change who I was?

As she debated herself in her head, pondering for what felt like hours, she felt herself being pulled out of the Magic Mirror and brought back to camp. When her boots finally touched the barn's dirt floor, she noticed Gale was patiently waiting for her to return.

“Tav! You’re back!” He shouted with delight, picking her up in his embrace and squeezing tight. “And thank goodness you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I’m glad to be back, Gale.” Taversia replied, her arms locked in her lover’s grip. “But, I… wanted to ask you about something.”

“Oh?” He placed her down, trailing his fingers down her forearms and sliding his hands into hers. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

“It’s about… being able to change appearances.” Taversia began, “You were right, there are so many ways you can change your appearance in the Magic Mirror. Ways I never even thought possible. And…” she trailed off, unsure of how to word what she wanted to say.

“It’s all right, my love.” He assured her, gently squeezing her hands. “You can tell me.”

She sighed as she looked at her boots, unable to meet his concerned gaze. “I saw that I could change my…” She paused, almost embarrassed to say the next part aloud.

“… my nether regions.”

“Your… your WHAT?”

“Yes, ah, and I just thought… if I could change that part of me…”

“Why in the Nine Hells would you do that?” Gale asked, perplexed beyond his comprehension.

Taversia released his hands and covered her face, either hiding her shame or her watering eyes, she wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know, I just thought if I changed that part of me, you’d be happier to be with a real woman…”

She fell to her knees, feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable with her one insecurity being out in the open like this. She was a tough fighter, a champion, and she kept a stoic composure with her companions at all times. It was safe to say that she was not one to show her more vulnerable side often.

She wished a lightning bolt would simply strike her down so she didn't have to deal with her embarrassment any longer.

But that storm never came. Instead, she felt Gale, her partner, her true love, sitting down on the floor and pulling her body close to his.

“Listen to yourself, Taversia.” Gale replied, “You sound absolutely ridiculous right now!” He chuckled, running his fingers lightly down her back. “When I first told you I loved you, it was for all of you. My love for you hasn’t faltered, not one bit. In fact, quite the opposite: it’s grown tenfold.”

Taversia slowly moved her hands away from her face as he spoke to her, settling her cheek on his chest.

“To me, it’s about who you are as a person, not what’s between your legs. That's never going to change.” He cradled her face, tilting her chin up so he could look into her eyes, golden as the evening sunsets back home in Waterdeep.

“You’re… such a strong, incredible woman. You've done so much in the time I've known you. Led us to success against the goblin camp, saved so many innocent people's lives, you even defeated a God! And on top of that, you’ve made me a better man. And I don’t ever want you to think you should change who you are, especially not for me. Because I want you in my life — as long as you’ll have me — as Taversia, the woman who saved me from that portal in that damned rock. The woman who has… well, quite literally been my rock. My support. I’ve never had anyone quite like you.”

Taversia felt a stray tear roll down her cheek. She knew he was telling the truth, speaking from his heart.

“Ah, save your tears, my love, it will all be okay." Wiping the wet drop from her cheeks with his thumb, he continued, "As long as you’re here with me, I… I can live on. I don’t need to die for the forgiveness of Mystra. I can… be me. Live the life I've always wanted. I’ll always be thankful to you for that.”

He watched as a slow smile finally began to grow on her face, as beautiful as the first time he ever made her smile.

“Thank you, Gale.” Taversia whispered, “I’m glad I have you.”

“I’m glad to have you too,” he replied, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Besides, if you really must know, I rather like your… ahem, nether regions, just as they are.”

She could feel her flush before the redness creeped up on her cheeks, a sight that was a rare treat for her partner to see. “Gale!” She nearly shrieked, trying to bury her face away again, but his hand held her firm. She wasn't about to hide from him, not now.

"In fact," He continued, "now that we're all alone..."

Her eyes glanced over at the barn doors, which were now conveniently shut for their privacy.

"But it's the middle of the day! Do you want the others to hear us?"

"Oh, you know I like it when they hear you shouting my name."

Gale pulled her face to his, closing the space between their lips. His kiss was passionate, hungry, nearly overflowing with his desire for her. Moving his body on top of hers, he guided her to lie back on the floor, his hands now slowly undressing her. Nearly breathless, Taversia kissed him back, her own arousal growing for him to have her, right there and then.

As the two of them made love to each other in the campsite barn, she heard his words of love repeated in her mind over and over again. Almost as if they were a poem, specifically recited for her alone. She didn't need to change for him, she didn't need to change for anyone. To him, she had always been perfect.

And for the first time, in a very long time, she was truly happy for who she was.

#mythrae writes #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #mythrae's tav #mythrae's oc #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 gale #bg3 #bg3 tav #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate tav #Spotify #oc: taversia

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venushasvixens · 2 years

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Music Sounds Better with You (Spike Spiegel x Reader One-Shot)

[A/N] this really was a nice little fic to just write. I've been cooking up something, and I will be announcing it soon! Catch me on here, Wattpad and AO3 under the same names, where I will be uploading future updates and pieces. Thanks for reading!

"Have you heard this one?"

"It sure does sound familiar."

Dusk on Mars, you and Spike were on the dock of the Bebop. With a little extra from the recent bounty, you had the long awaited opportunity of buying a brand new radio. Completed with a connected database of the biggest variety of music you had ever seen, the chance to listen to the music you wanted to was at your fingertips. Still, it was a bit painful to reminisce on the price. But who cares? You wanted this for a long time, and Spike was beyond thrilled when you wanted to share it with him.

"Hard to believe some of this came from before the Astral Gate." Spike said, nodding his head along to the beat. "You would think that all of it was lost to time."

"Whoever saved this one I hope is having the best time of their life. Or afterlife." You replied, smiling up at Spike. "They just don't make songs like they used to."

"Is that you, Jet?" Spike jeered, lightly tapping the small of your back with his foot. "Didn't take you much for an old soul."

"I got soul. And the blues too." You teased, relaxing as the melodic notes of the trumpet and tisk of the cymbals complimented each other rhythmically. "Do you, Spike?"

"More than you do." Spike sat next to you, letting the cool breeze of the night hit his face. "We rival each other in good taste, thats for sure."

"Can't disagree with that." You gave a small kiss on his cheek, leaning your head on your shoulder. "Did you ever listen to this kind of music when you were younger?"

"Raised on it. Morning, noon, night." Spike nodded slowly. "In a better sense, every kind of music was shown to me. Even as old as I am, there still a lot I haven't heard."

"Comforting." You replied, smiling blissfully.

As one song ended, there was a pause between the next song. For a brief moment, all you heard was the whistle of the wind and the sound of Spike's breathing. Offering your hand, Spike immediately took it into his own. A soft note took off, starting a great array of instruments. The gaze of your sweetheart was sensed, causing you to respond. "Something the matter?"

"You don't like country, do you?"

You snorted, laughing out loud. "Where did you get that from?"

Spike shrugged, chuckling. "Just a feeling, my great intuition told me."

"For your information, I can appreciate all kinds of music." You replied. "I think its just the message that depends."

"Oh, like what?"

"Oh you know. Like, is this a song about liking yourself? Or is it one about hating the world?" You sighed, thinking. "Shockingly, your mood can easily shift because of one song. Kind of messed up to see it happen."

"I see what you mean." Spike pondered. "You have to keep up with the beat."

"That's a good way to put it." You nodded. "Is it okay if I show you?"

Spike eyed you cautiously. "I hope you know that I can't cry." You scoffed.

"No, not like that." You flipped through the database on your holo-phone, searching for that one song. It was a melody so special to you, it could only be played for special occasions like this. There was no vague, underlining theme in the lyrics. It just tells you flat out how they feel. It was something about this song that was so sweet, so sincere.

If you couldn't put it into words, this song would do it for you.

Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?

Just like me, they long to be close to you

The song began, with a whistle coming from Spike. "Oh, this one." He said, a small smile on his face. "So you do want me to cry?"

You just laughed. "I guess what I can't say rightly, this would do it for me, you know?"

Why do stars fall down from the sky?

Every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be close to you

"Its this next part that reminds me of you." You softly said.

On the day that you were born, the angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true.

You felt Spike tense up underneath you, rising from his spot next to you. Your heart sank for a second, wondering if maybe he didn't like it or you went too far.

"Is something wrong-"

"Dance with me." Spike extended his hand, his gaze settled on you lovingly. You got up eagerly, your hand into Spike's. He pulled you close to him, his other on your back. It held on tightly, as if he was afraid to let you go. It could've looked cheesy from a far away glance, and so cliche. But just the way how he was looking at you was worth it. Eyes full of admiration and love. If this was a chance to woo you, it worked.

You were all his.

"I got a feeling that you may like this song." You teased. Spike squeezed your hand, grinning. You both swayed back and forth to the gentle beat of the those classic trumpets and sentimental piano notes.

"No, really?" He replied, kissing your forehead. Oh, how you wanted him to do that again. "I see what you mean. I really do."

"Its beautiful. Reminds me of you a lot." You sighed. The amount of times you have had heard it before, hoping that one day, you would have the wonderful chance of being able to hear this song and think of somebody special. Words so sweetly spoken about the beauty of someone you loved, it could almost bring a tear to your eye.

"It would be a nice wedding song, wouldn't it?" Spike whispered to you, making you giggle.

"Without a doubt." You whispered back, giving a soft kiss on Spike's chin. Content and so in love, he rest his head on top of yours as the neared the end. There was no where else Spike would rather be. Music was the easiest way for him to communicate what his own words couldn't. He was so grateful a person like you could understand exactly what you meant.

"Do you want to play it again?"

"If it means I can stay in your arms just a little longer..then yes."

#fanfiction #cowboy bebop #faye valentine #90s anime #radio free mars #spike spiegel #see you space cowboy #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel headcanons #spike spiegel requests #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop fanfiction #jet black #radical edward #ein the dog #spike spiegel fanfic

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poupeesdecirque · 7 months

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Personal Update & Doll Plans!

Maybe some important things to tell.

Glasses, Social Media & real life, a little bit of dolls

First of all: if you are reading this - thank you for being interested in what I have to say.

As I had updated not too long ago I got my next tattoo on the 23rd and it was a quite short lived decision as I had planned on doing it in February but somehow I felt the urge to do something for myself only.

It's healing well but let us come to something else...

Before I made the tattoo appointment I made an appointment to have my eyes checked. I have issues driving in the night and last month at work I had trouble to read a power point presentation.. as my last check was in 2005 I decided it was about time.

I got checked one week ago and the result is my eyes are almost perfect in regards of functionality themselves BUT I have Astigmatism, the lense in my right eye is the worse but the left isn't much better. Yep, my vision is crooked and it explains so SO much for me. Like the fact I was never able to draw straight lines even with rulers and such :') and the issues with driving at night, things are deformed for me, appear wider and broader.

Thursday I was able to pick up my very own first pair of ... glasses. I am adjusting to them now, I had car-driving glasses in before but those were plain window glass just to protect my sensitive eyes from the AC.

And it might be not a big change but right after the Connichi I had cut my hair even after having asymmetrical hair for years, it's three big changes for me, the hair, the tattoo and the glasses on top of work being absolute hell with too much going on.

I have to step back here and there in regards of hobbies and my decision is to step back from the social side, I will be using some of my social media less and less, especially when some last things are settled. I want to concentrate on the sides of my hobbies that bring me joy and not dig through dirt all the time in the little time that I have. I am actively trying to figure out how to use my main media like my tumblr blog here, you might have noticed I have started to write travel blogs and that's the route I want to go, to write down more, to share more of my thoughts, my impressions and all that.

I am reachable, I am here if you have questions, it maybe just will take a while until I reply.

I am handling a lot on top of my real life and art is a hobby, I can't juggle it all in a fair amount, i can't do cosplay, drawing, dolls and writing all at once. Writing is a priority for me same as drawing, I am aiming to do it several times a week.

I want to attend more conventions again and engage with the fandom outside of the internet, I feel like I have lost important connections and want to rebuild them, it's a progress for myself mainly.

Digging through my personal backlog of tasks is another can of worms. I just... took one bite too much too often.

But well, here I am wriggling my way through. Had a nice drawing and writing day today while I finally finished watching a series that came out in July and feel kinda proud I did it (you have no idea, the times I have actually WATCHED a show is now 6 times this year, a movie? Maybe two. it's sad I know but there is mainly just no time left or spoons for it.

In case you read this far and are in for doll related news:

I ordered the body for Bookman and am now waiting for three bodies, a full doll and a new head I just snatched last night! I hope to make the announcement for the head the next days as I made some art to go with it :)

Thank you for your attention <3

#personal update

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

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Bones and All - Chapter 9: Set Free

Eddie Munson/Reader Series Masterlist

Warnings: canon typical violence/gore, swearing, weird parental relationships, animal farming/slaughterhouse setting (1 scene only); psychiatric hospital setting (1 scene only); discussion of religion; suicidal ideation/thoughts; no beta; updated each chapter

Synopsis: A Bones and All AU. What do you hunger for?

Chapter Summary: Canines and carnage. 2375 words.

A general rule in life is that if someone feels compelled to state that they are friendly, then perhaps they aren’t.

You watched the man in overalls walk towards your camp. He stopped a couple of feet shy, his friend following along behind him.

“I’m Jake. That’s Bradley,” the man introduced.

“Goddamn it, my name is Brad, man,” his friend clarified.

Eddie didn’t hesitate. “I’m Ronnie. That’s Wendy,”

“Good to meet you, Ronnie,” Jake replied, holding a hand out to shake.

Eddie took the steps needed to reach out and politely shake the man’s hand. You smiled and waved awkwardly.

“You just passing through?” Brad asked.

“Yeah, just passing through. Is that, ah, a problem?” Eddie – Ronnie – asked.

“Oh, we’re not here to run ya out or nothing. Though you might be in use of some beer…”

Jake added, “Not many come through here… Nice to meet some others. What do ya say?”

The situation felt dangerous. You sensed it. Eddie did too. It wasn’t clear if Jake and Brad were any more dangerous than the next eater, but declining their invitation was not an option, something the both of you knew too.

Sitting around a campfire, the men shared their warm beer. As the sun set and everyone was lit in an orange glow, it was clear that like Eddie, Jake was a storyteller too.

“I’m into this now, right? Pulling meat, bones comin’ out, you know?” He put his beer can between his thighs so he could use both his hands to act out the scene. “And I start to feel watched… I look around and at first I don’t see him, he’s standing so still in the trees, but then I spot him and I’m like, ‘what the fuck.’ I mean, I look like the red devil at this point. But he’s just watching me like I’m… Doug fucking Henning.”

Jake and Brad both laughed, glancing at each other.

Jake continued, “I’m already on my feet and I’m runnin’ at him, and he pulls a fuckin’ pistol on me! Turns out he’s an off-duty cop. First year on the force-”

“Ah, we did say we weren’t gonna tell nobody about that,” Brad interjected nervously.

Your eyes held steady on the men, eyebrows pulled together. The feeling spreading across your body was different to fear, but maybe a cousin of it. A deep dread settled under your skin. Eddie looked across at you, his own jaw clenched tight.

“Oh, right, right.” It’s clear in Jake’s tone he didn’t care. “So, he’s a cop. I think he’s gonna take me down, but he just… kept looking at me…” Jake looked at Brad. “And what did I say?”

“He said, ‘Shoot me now or get the fuck gone ‘cause he ain’t gonna be no fun to eat cold.’”

They both laughed in unison again, Jake’s more a maniacal cackle than a happy sound.

“Then, then, he looks at me and says, ‘Go on, back to it… I gotta get a better look at this.’ So, I suddenly feel him right there. Crouched down next to me to get a better look. He doesn’t smell like an eater. But there he is. So, I ask if he wants some. And damned if doesn’t get all serious, like a food-stamp kid on samples day. You know what I gave him?” Jake paused for either dramatic effect or for a guess, you can’t tell.

Instead, it slipped out before you could stop yourself. “Wait. You’re not one of us?”

Brad looked put out by the question. Jake grinned, amused at where the conversation was going. He announced, “Abso-fucking-lutely normal he is! Well, eh, clearly not normal…”

Jake giggled like it was a compliment.

“He hasn’t had his full bones yet, but… I reckon that’s coming soon enough…”

The fire crackled, filling the void in conversation while everyone figured out their next move.

“That’s… that’s impossible what you’re talking about,” you said, looking at Brad. Could a human eat like an eater? “How many people have you eaten?”

“I count three,” Jake answered for him.

Not looking away from you, Brad nodded. “Yes, Miss. Three people,”

“And you didn’t have to? You didn’t have to do this?”

Eddie rubbed his hands over his face as you asked the question.

“Kind of a groupie, I guess,” Jake answered for Brad again.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, standing up.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, looking at you, his hand reaching out.

“Jake’s teaching me how to smell other eaters,” Brad offered.

“No. No, he’s not,” you replied, turning around and walking to the van. You got inside and locked the doors, fishing the switchblade that killed Steve out of the glove box.

Back at the campfire, Eddie considered his options while Brad stood up, walking only a couple of steps away before taking a piss. “She’s lucky she’s got you to help,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie looked from him to Jake. Jake’s gaze was cold and fixed on Eddie. A cruel smile crossed his lips. “God. He’s the one that needs help, Brad. You can see it a mile away.”

Eddie pulled his post-eating carton of cigarettes from his pocket and busied himself with lighting one. The first inhale hurt just a little.

Jake wasn’t done. “You remind me of every junkie I’ve ever met. You look like the kind that’s convinced himself he’s got this under his thumb. But you pull on one little thread and-” Jake made a swirling motion, the thread unraveling, and he swirled it up and up and away.

Eddie said nothing.

Jake leaned forward. “But maybe love will set you free, man. Maybe love. Will. Set. You. Freeeee.” The last word screeched out longer than Eddie could bear. He inhaled too hard and coughed it back up, Jake and Brad laughing at him.

When you heard the laughter, you crawled into the back of the van and curled yourself up on the makeshift bed. You hated them so much that you cried yourself to sleep.

The weight of Eddie landing next to you woke you with a fright.

“Sorry! Sorry. Just me. Sorry.”

Eddie expected the mood in the van to be much warmer than out there with the men. He’d sat through their sweeping accusations thinly veiled as elder wisdom and their horror stories with a fake smile. He wasn’t in the mood to die.

“Hey, you know where I got Ronnie and Wendy from? Like, Ronnie Dio and his wife Wendy. She’s his second wife, but she manages him and stuff. Totally awesome… … Hey… You alright?” he asked when you hadn’t greeted him.

Shrugging, you made a noncommittal sound.

“We’ll leave first thing,”

“Why can’t we leave now?”

“I need sleep. Driving without sleep is worse than driving drunk,”

“I’ll drive,” you said, sitting up.

“You’ve had one lesson,”

“So? Nobody is out on the roads,”

“Yeah… because it’s the middle of the night. No visibility. Look, first thing, okay? If you wake up before me, you can wake me up,” he offered.

“Like I’m going to be able to sleep with them out there,”

“You were asleep when I got here.”

Even if it were true, you were still pissed he’d pointed it out. You threw yourself back onto the mattress and refused to say goodnight.

…

Despite yourself, you had fallen asleep. It was Eddie who woke first, swiping his hands along the windows inside the van, clearing condensation to peer outside. Jake and Brad were asleep by the smoldering embers of the campfire.

Eddie reached back and poked at you until you stirred. You looked up at him through half-opened eyes. His finger was at his lips motioning for you to be quiet.

As soon as you were in the passenger seat and both belts were buckled, Eddie put the van into drive and let it silently roll. It wouldn’t go far, so he started the engine, winching at the noise.

“Fuck! They’re up!” you yelled as you watched the men’s figures start running towards the van in the side mirror. “Go! Go! Go!”

“I’m going!” Eddie tore down the dirt road that led back onto the main highway.

There were other cars, other people, and it provided some comfort. Suddenly, Eddie began to laugh. He sounded a little hysterical.

“You’ve got to admit, that was kind of fun,”

“Fun?!” you yelled. “Yeah, so fucking fun escaping from some fucking insane murderers at the last fucking minute,”

“Y/N, come on. It was fine. I don’t think they wanted to murder us,”

“That’s not the point. Don’t- don’t do that. Don’t tell me everything’s fine when it’s not fine.”

Eddie looked at you, his confusion easily readable on his face. “Are we still talking about them?”

As it was, it was becoming a pattern – you didn’t reply. Eddie turned on the radio and you drove in uncomfortable silence for an hour.

You felt old and tired, like you’d lived twenty years inside only a day. It was all too much.

Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. Lydia.

Steve.

Stomach acid. Steve’s brother. Teeth. Independence State Hospital. Red dirt. Your father. Spit. All the fucking letters in messy handwriting. Snapping tendons. Jake. The smell of petrol. Brad.

Across state lines into Illinois, you finally spoke. “Where are we going?”

“Well unless there’s somewhere else you wanna go, figured we’d go back to Hawkins. Check in on Red and the others.”

Red was Max, but you didn’t know who ‘the others’ were and you didn’t ask, just nodded.

Peoria. Bloomington. Mahomet. Champaign. Danville. Another state line, then north to Lafayette. It had been hours in the van, and when Eddie pulled into the parking lot of Tippecanoe Mall, you almost fell over, your legs were jelly.

“My spine hurts,”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “My ass. Fuckin’ tailbone.”

You walked side by side into the mall and passed a few stores before you stopped.

“Um, I’ve got some supplies I need to get. Like. Girl stuff. Do you want to meet up later? Like, 2 in the food court?”

Eddie looked at you with suspicion, then hurt. “Uh. Sure, yeah,”

“Here,” you said, fishing your collective cash out your bag.

Eddie took half and put it in his wallet. It was new, you noticed. Not new. Not his. Steve’s, probably. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, then walked away. You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you as you disappeared into the mall and out of his sight.

After looping back around, you returned to the van and picked one of the locks to collect the rest of your things. All the camping supplies, food, and anything else that wasn’t yours before you met Eddie remained there. It was the very least you could do.

You knew you shouldn’t have left, but doing things you weren’t supposed to was pretty much your specialty.

…

Eddie had an uneasy feeling settle in his stomach as he watched you walk into the mall. There was something about the way you were carrying yourself, too careful, too calm. He wasn’t dumb – he had sensed the discord between you, understood the gravity of the arguments, but he had been worse than dumb. Eddie had been hopeful.

He stayed in the mall well beyond 2:00 pm. He knew you weren’t waiting for him in the food court. When stores began to close, he slowly walked back to the van and pretended not to notice all your stuff gone. For a while, he just sat behind the steering wheel, staring blankly out the windscreen. The parking lot emptied and the sun set.

Eddie had felt alone before, plenty of times in fact. It wasn’t like this though. He wanted to drive the van off a cliff. He wanted to eat his way through the entire population of Lafayette – bones and all. He wanted destruction and death and decay and to completely become a monster. A monster doesn’t feel abandonment. Heartbreak or humiliation. A monster can’t love and lose.

When a security car began to circle the mall, it rolled up next to the van. Eddie got out and leaned into the open window, flashing a smile of canines and carnage.

…

Catching the last bus out of Lafayette and to Frankfort, you wandered around the streets until you found a late night diner. It was warm inside, comfortable. More than you deserved, you thought.

“What can I getcha, honey?” the waitress asked, poised with her notepad and pen.

“Um. Just, um, some tea please. With milk,”

“Sure thing.”

You surveyed the diner, it was busy for a late night in a small town. When two cops walked in, your back automatically straightened and the hair all over your body stood to attention. They went by without incident, taking seats at the bar and greeting the waitresses by name.

Slumping in your booth, you shook your head at yourself. You tried to not think about Eddie, about how he'd react to you leaving, about any of it, but you couldn’t help it.

Maybe he would hate you.

Maybe you could walk the face of the earth, doomed to misery, damned to hell.

Maybe you could let yourself devolve into the wretched creature you saw whenever you looked in the mirror.

“On the house, honey,” the waitress said as she put a pot of tea, side of milk, and a chocolate muffin in front of you. Before you could say thank you, she was off greeting other customers.

As you nibbled on the muffin, guilt making your stomach flip, you got out your journal and opened to a fresh page. In the center, you drew a little stick figure, then an endless maze surrounding it.

Maybe, after you found somewhere to sleep and woke up in the morning, you’d find they’d built a glorious and high maze around you. You could walk for days and days and months and years and never get out.

You left a tip for the waitress and stashed the muffin in your bag. On your way out the door, you crumpled the letters from mother and fathers and threw them in the bin with the snotty tissues and old newspapers.

End Note: How we feeling about the story? We will diverge from canon soon, but I couldn't resist putting Jake and Brad in the fic. I prefer them (from the film) than the eater-obsessed nurse (from the novel).

Fic Taglist: @harrys-tittie - did you change your URL? @azydrateanatomy @pussy-drunk @mrsdollardog @akiratoro420

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24 @mel-the-fangirl

#Bones and All #Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader

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searchingwardrobes · 1 year

Text

Scarborough Fair: 7/?

I was shocked to discover that I last updated this at the end of October! I still love this story, though, so I hope you all will stick with me. Writing this chapter was great therapy for me, but in addition to that, I really enjoyed writing the dynamic of this quirky and unique little family. I also rather like how this chapter ends, if I do say so myself. It’s a nice bit of levity in what has so far been a dark story.

You might want to go back and read Mary Margaret’s journal entry from chapter 6 (the part in italics) to refresh your memory about how the curse in this story works. I know it’s been a while!

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 3k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you wish to be removed or added): @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jonesfandomfanatic

Emma descended the stairs with the pregnancy test in the pocket of her jeans, one hand clutching her mother’s journal, and the other clasped firmly in Killian’s. If not for his presence beside her, she would have collapsed.

It hadn’t taken them long to come to this decision. Their very unique family had come together through a series of crazy tragedies. Some would call them a series of coincidences; but to every family member under this roof, it felt like fate. If Emma was cursed to follow this path, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she didn’t have to walk it alone. Elsa and Anna hadn’t been alone after their parents died in a boating accident - their Aunt had immediately taken them in, and they’d gained a third sister in the process. Killian hadn’t been alone when his father left and his mother died - a brother he had never met stepped up. Then Ingrid Arendelle and three little girls had knocked on Liam Jones’s front door with a platter of cookies to welcome him and his little boy to the neighborhood, and well - fate took over once again.

As for Emma, what would have happened to her if Mary Margaret had never met Ingrid? This Dark One her mother wrote about in her journal couldn’t have anticipated Ingrid. Or Liam. Or Killian, Elsa, or Anna. Hiding this from them just wasn’t an option. Every time they faced difficulties, they were stronger together.

Emma and Killian paused at the bottom of the stairs. Ingrid, Liam, and Anna were bustling about the kitchen. Anna was opening the boxes of pizza that had just been delivered, Liam was pulling paper plates from the cupboard, and Ingrid had just walked in the kitchen door after fetching sodas from the extra fridge in the garage. She kicked the door shut with one foot, her arms loaded down with soda cans. She froze, the laughter on her lips dying as she saw Emma and Killian standing there.

“We need to have a family meeting,” Killian announced.

All three of them looked from Killian, to Emma, then to their joined hands. Anna’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. Ingrid and Liam shared weighted glances.

“Okay,” Ingrid agreed as she began setting the soda cans one by one on the kitchen counter. “Let’s grab our food and gather around the table.”

Killian looked at Emma and gave her an encouraging smile followed by a squeeze of his hand. Emma nodded nervously, then let go. She sat down at the kitchen table, hugging her mother’s journal to her chest. Everyone resumed dinner preparations, although their voices were softer and the laughter had floated away. Emma wasn’t hungry, but she tried to pick at the slice of pepperoni Ingrid set before her.

“Well,” Ingrid announced, taking charge as always, “do we want to eat and then have the meeting, or talk while we eat?”

“I’d really rather get it over with,” Emma said softly.

Ingrid nodded. “Okay, then. Do we want to try and include Elsa in this?”

Emma wet her suddenly dry lips. She really just wanted to rip this off like a bandaid. “If she could, that would be nice, but I don’t want to wait.”

“Liam, see if you can get ahold of Elsa for a Zoom call.”

A series of texts were exchanged, Liam set up his laptop at Elsa’s usual seat around

the table, and suddenly, there was her older sister, via the magic of technology. Thankfully, dinner time around Boston was lunch time in the North Sea, so Elsa was on a break from her intern responsibilities. She waved at Emma, her smile still holding that edge of concern as she asked how she was doing.

“In truth,” Emma confessed, “I’ve been better. Which is why I called a family meeting.”

“You both did, actually,” Liam clarified, giving his brother a weighted look. He glanced down to where Killian’s hand rested atop Emma’s on the table.

Had he reached for her hand or had she reached for his? Emma wasn’t sure, but it felt right, as if it were the only way she could face this.

Emma let out a long breath as she reached into her pocket. “There’s not really a way to ease into this conversation, so . . .”

She pulled out the pregnancy test and set it in the middle of the table. The reaction was immediate. Anna gasped, Liam made a strangled noise, and Ingrid pressed a hand to her mouth. Elsa’s confused voice came out distant and tinny from the computer screen.

“What is that? I can’t see.”

Emma lifted the pregnancy test and held it right in front of the camera.

“Oh . . . my,” Elsa breathed.

“What the bloody hell have you done, Killian?” Liam suddenly burst out.

“Me?” Killian shouted.

“You mean you think it’s his?” Emma choked out.

The other three female members of the family began shouting over each other in chastisement. Liam lifted both hands placatingly.

“They come walking down here hand in hand, calling a family meeting, then she pulls out a pregnancy test? What was I supposed to think?”

Ingrid glared at her husband and smacked him in the shoulder with the back of her hand. “You’re supposed to think about Neal Cassidy and what he did to her just two months ago! Not to mention have more faith than that in your brother.”

Liam’s shoulders slumped. “Neal?” he whispered as he looked apologetically at Emma.

She nodded solemnly in reply.

“So now we need to support Emma instead of flying off the handle,” Elsa proclaimed from across the ocean via Zoom.

Emma leaned towards the screen to address her sister. “Don’t be too hard on him. He looks pretty awful right now.”

“Well,” Ingrid announced, splaying both hands on the table, “you have options Emma. Tomorrow we can -”

Emma cut her off with a raised hand. “This is about more than an unplanned pregnancy.” She looked at Killian, pushing the slim volume with the tattered green cover towards him with her free hand. He never had let go of her other one. He squeezed her hand now and gave her a nod in understanding.

“I found this the night of the prom in Mary Margaret’s things,” Killian explained.

“It’s her journal,” Emma added, “and she wrote it for me.”

“Emma,” Ingrid breathed, reaching hesitantly across the table, and then drawing her hand back, “I had no idea . . .”

“I read it,” Emma continued, ignoring her foster mother, “and then I had Killian read it, and . . . well . . .”

“It explains some things,” Killian filled in for her.

“Right. It explains things. I made Killian promise me something before he read it, and I’m going to ask you the same thing. Promise you won’t think this is crazy, or that I’m crazy.”

Any other parent would probably jump in at that point with an adamant denial that they would ever entertain such a thought. Emma’s foster parents, however, knew the gravity of what she was asking them. So did her sisters. Ingrid and Liam exchanged marital looks that spoke without words. Anna and Elsa, even through a computer screen, did their creepy sister telepathy. Then the four of them solemnly promised Emma that they would all have open minds. With that vow, Killian picked up the journal, opened it, and began to read it out loud.

He still didn’t let go of Emma’s hand.

She refused to look at her family as he read aloud, afraid of what she might see in their expressions. There was an audible gasp from all four of them at Neal’s name, but other than that, it was eerily silent as Killian read. When he finished, he set the journal down on the table, and Emma finally raised her head. Ingrid’s brow was furrowed as if she were mentally reviewing every moment with Mary Margaret over the years. Liam stared at a point somewhere over Emma’s shoulder. Anna blinked and shook her head slightly in shock. Elsa massaged her brow with the slender fingers of both hands. The silence stretched.

Anna, unsurprisingly, was the one who broke it.

“That . . . actually explains a lot.”

“A curse then,” Elsa said, leaning closer to her screen, “so how do we help Emma break it?”

Liam banged both fists on the table. “I should have punched that kid when I had the chance.”

Ingrid rose, strode to the kitchen drawer, grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, then sat back down with pen poised over paper. “Repeat that riddle to me again, Killian.”

He read it again, and Ingrid scrawled furiously. Liam leaned over her shoulder.

“I could do more research into the song,” he told everyone.

“And that art professor?” Ingrid asked, tapping the paper with the end of the pen, “What was her name? The one who did her dissertation on textiles?”

“Kate Freemont?”

“Yes, her! Maybe she could look into fabrics that would work for this first riddle.”

“How is that even possible?” Anna asked, leaning over her aunt’s list. “If you sew a shirt, doesn’t it have to have a seam? And how do you make it without a needle?”

“I can ask around here about the third riddle,” Elsa spoke up. “It seems it would be pretty hard to sow an acre on the shore before the tide comes in, but some of these scientists I’ve been working with have traveled the world. Maybe they know of a place where that would work?”

“Forget the tide,” Anna scoffed, “how do you sow an entire acre with only one kernel of corn?”

“The agriculture department!” Liam exclaimed. “I’ll ask around.”

Emma’s eyes welled up with tears as she watched her family roll up their sleeves and jump right in to solve the riddle. Not for one second did they scoff at her or turn away. Ingrid met her watery gaze, and her expression softened. She put down the pen and raised a hand to quiet the rest of the family.

“Before we go on, there’s one solution we haven’t voiced.” She looked intently at Emma with eyes full of compassion. “The curse says that you have until your child is born to solve the riddle. If you terminate the pregnancy -”

“No!” Emma cried, placing a hand protectively to her abdomen.

“Sweetheart,” Ingrid said gently, “you were raped. No one would fault you if -”

“I can’t,” Emma protested, shaking her head. “I can’t explain it, but my gut tells me things would be worse if I did that. I think this baby is the key to breaking this curse. If I did what you suggest, I have a feeling the madness would take me then, and my parents would be cursed forever.”

Ingrid nodded, blinking back tears. “Okay, then. Well, everyone, how do we go about finding a town that no one knows?”

Emma’s smile grew, and she felt herself relax in her chair as everyone’s voices overlapped one another. Except for Killian. He sat silently, her hand still in his, his thumb idly rubbing across her knuckles. It soothed her.

Then he cleared his throat. “I have something I need to say.”

Everyone stopped and looked at him.

“I’m in love with Emma.”

The words shot through the quiet room, and then Liam spoke up.

“And you all wondered why I thought the baby might be his.”

#cs ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #cs impossible au #cs au #lieutenant duckling #modern fantasy #angst #cs angsty august #angsty august #captain swan angsty august #impossible au

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septemberrie · 10 months

Note

Battle Lines is a comfort read for me and I was VERY interested to note that a particular chapter (Renegotiation II not that I have it memorised or anything) has had some tweaks made to it (all of which I love, btw. I think you mentioned you were keen to rewrite it a bit and I think the updated version is 👌).

I was also very excited to see you updated the chapters to be 21/22. This isn’t a “hurry up and write an epilogue” comment, but more of a “how you feeling about it?” comment, because I think you also said you didn’t realise there’d be such an appetite and hadn’t originally planned for one. Is it nice to be writing it because so many people want it, or is that like, a lot of pressure?

Oh goodness waking up to this ask was just 🥰🥰🥰 thank you Dexter!!

Yes I did update Renegotiation II but I didn't make a public announcement, partly bc I didn't think many people would notice but I stand corrected 😅🤩 I've gotten a few comments and they have all been very kind, so I'm very grateful it's been received well. I've been summarizing it as "a little less spicy but a little more true to the characters" so I hope it came across that way to you, too!

This so funny lmao I feel like I've been caught with my hand in the cookie jar! I have almost finished the epilogue, I'm 99% sure I'll post it today. I did notice yesterday when I was futzing around with ao3 to draft the author's note, etc that it showed as 21/22 but since I just saved a draft I assumed that only I would see that change. Guess not lolol you're an amazing unintentional sleuth 😂😂

But to answer your question, I am finally feeling good about it. It took me a couple days after I posted the climactic chapter that the ending, as written, wasn't "neat" so much as "pithy" and after some reflection I decided it was not what I wanted. I am a people-pleaser so while I'll say yes, I felt pressure, it's not because of anything anyone ever said or did, it's definitely a "me" problem of internalizing the toxic notion that "if you're not producing then you don't deserve to be part of the fandom" which we all know cognitively is bullshit but that little voice is always there for me.

That's why I allowed myself about 4-6 weeks off to decide if it was really something I wanted to do, and by then I'd had some time and distance and there were ideas I wanted to share about what happens after the curtain falls and at a certain point, I'm a writer so why not spell it out within the story as a slice-of-life epilogue rather than as an addendum outside of it.

So. I'm happy with it, fluff is a challenge for me but I found some ways to balance it. It does make it easier to write after I've finally accepted that it is a good enough story that readers will forgive a little hokey-ness 🥰 Thank you for asking! Writing is hard but rambling about my writing never is!!

#okay this got long whoops!!!#also I'm gonna add a note to the updated chapter so rereaders don't think they're going insane #asks #iamdexter123 #battle lines #my writing

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aajjks · 3 months

Note

TC!dad!JK

“dragon approves of you too, papa” ayra says as she holds the green gecko in her stiny palm and smiles; looking just like her mother. yes, aura favors more of you than jungkook, except she possess his dimples unlike the rest of her siblings. and for her to be a five year old, she’s very tiny compared to her sister ji-eun.

when jungkook brings up a brother or sister, ayra takes a minute to ponder about what she wants. she loves ji-eun but she’s a little mean to her sometimes and jaehan and jawan are too rough. “hmm” she says, placing her left finger on her chin to mimic a thinking pose. “i think i want another baby sister. boys can be rough sometimes” and it’s so hard not to coo at his little five year old who’s being very honest right now. as her mother says, boys give cooties.

“i want three more baby sisters so i can dress up and-and play tea-time with them!” yes, ayra loves all of the “girly” things you can imagine which is funny since she has a strange fascination with scary animals and an ear that could rival mozart’s. “what do you want, daddy? do you want a boy or a girl?” ayra asks jungkook.

“oh! oh! guess what? the man we bought dragon from said he’s mommy’s best friend but you know what i told him? i said you’re mommy’s best friend”

“his name is..uhh..mr. minjun? yeah, mr. minjun! he’s really nice. you should meet him papa” ayra says with a smile on her face.

“your highness?” says dr. lee, the man who delivered your twins and saved jinseoul’s life. “i wanted to inform you that princess ji-eun has a stomach virus. she’s doing just fine but i strongly advise you and the queen to stay far from her until the princess is feeling better. especially since the queen is pregnant, we don’t want to risk the fetuses or queen y/n’s health”

~🫧

Jungkook nods, and the doctor bows before leaving, and Jungkook is suddenly concerned about two things.

1: who the fuck is this minjun

2: how are you going to stay away from your sick little baby girl?

“Okay baby… time for you to join your siblings- daddy has got to go to mommy yeah?” He says as he presses a kiss to her adorable pink hued cheeks and watches her run off with a young court lady.

The Gecko is surely going to keep her occupied, Jungkook sighs as he gets up and makes his way to your shared chamber- you must be there because he strictly ordered you to keep on bed resting.

He really hopes that you’re not in the garden- it’s really cold. Also he’s a little concerned about jieun. Jungkook clears his throat as the eunuch right before your door announces his arrival.

There you are sitting with jinseoul and ae-cha, laughing away, with your hand resting on your pregnant belly. “Hi.” He smiles.

“Jinseoul? AeCha? I’ve to talk to your mother- so, feel free to leave.” Jungkook says and your children so well behaved that they bow their heads in respect to you and him before leaving.

You try to get up and Jungkook quickly stops you. “No no honey.” He tsks before rushing to you and he sits down on the couch next to you.

You ask him what’s wrong and he sighs. “Nothings wrong Just.. Dr. Lee came to visit and he updated me on jieuns condition, she’s got a small viral stomach infection and he told me that you need to stay away from her given your condition, absolutely necessary.” He says, taking your have in his as he squeezes it.

You’re such a great mother, he knows you’re going to argue with him about this because your child is sick and you’re not going to sit here while she suffers.

“Also ayra told me two things.” He cuts you off- you begin to ramble, angrily speaking but it’s not good for you. “She wants three more sisters and…” he looks at you, his smile disappears.

“Who the fuck is minjun? I’m your everything yn- your husband, your lover and your best friend! Not him!”

#ask: tc!jungkook

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whorediaries-09 · 4 months

Text

announcement.

hi folks. i have been a bit m.i.a lately, and i do apologize for that. but i think i severely need a break. things are getting really overwhelming for me right now. but this blog is and has always been my safe space. thus it is only fair to share my thoughts and speak about it.

but i'm going to be there, i just will be updating slowly.

explanations under cut but please don't continue if you're uncomfortable about vents.

it's a deep dive into my history, my love life, if you can call it that. i've always been objectively unattractive, and i've come to terms with that. thus i accepted the fact that i wouldn't receive love. because i'm at the age that people want a significant partner to show off, to boost their ego, not to feel something. it has never been like that for me, i always wanted genuine love. i always craved for it.

so last year to last year, when i got proposed to i accepted it because i thought they were genuine. the only nuisance was they were really close friends with someone who didn't like me. there were several degrading comments about my body, but in the beginning, they always defended me. as the relationship progressed, i introduced my ex to my friends, and my friends clicked a friendship with them. but i was never introduced to their friends. and when i confronted them about it, they told me it was because they wanted to 'keep me safe' or 'i didn't trust them'. my vulnerable self fed into their explanations.

fast forward to 'misunderstandings', 'you're too nice for me', ' i don't deserve you' they called things off. all when my grandmother had expired and when my best friend was admitted in the hospital. i have weird coping mechanisms, and i tend to laugh things off, and one day i received a text saying 'i'm looking for something genuine.'

so eventually we break things off, we stop talking. it wasn't a flying rumor, but i got to know their friend who didn't like me manipulated them into cheating on me because 'there were other girls who were so hot' and 'they deserve so much more than my fat body,'

i grew more insecure, as more trust issues haunted me, so did eating disorders. i indulged myself into studies, trying to cut off ties with my friends, loosing everything like sand flowing through my fingers. i developed a hatred towards everything i loved. i looked into the mirror till i loathed my reflection.

but my friends who understood me, they pulled me out of the hellhole i was falling into. now i've completely moved on.

but life isn't fair is it?

i started talking to a guy, to try new, to try fresh. i knew i couldn't allow myself to love completely, because i'm still insecure, but i think i was just looking for some consolation.

so we started talking, and it felt he was interested in me. and one day we met, and he squeezed my ass. when i confronted him about it, he got pissed off, saying that i 'shouldn't be sending signals if i don't want anything.'

i wasn't sending any signals. i just wanted to meet him. that too in school. i was trying to find love god damn it.

so i tried to talk about it to a 'friend'. i told her about the incident, and she looked me dead in the eyes, calling me a 'whore'. her explanation was i have more guy friends than girl friends. she told me i should've enjoyed it.

and maybe i'm being over dramatic. people have been through worse and survived. but i can't stand it anymore.

so i sit here, my eyes swollen.

am i that hard to love? am i that hard to be desired?

am i that appalling?

#announcement #vent

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aftgficrec · 2 years

Note

howdyyy, could I possibly have your round up of the best in character blow burn andreil fics. I do love a good band fic but I really don't mind Its exy related or not :))) Thanks so much!

Anon, you had us at blow burn!

In character or OOC is always such a matter of personal opinion, but hopefully we’ve found you some nice, slooow slow burn here, keeping in mind your liking for band aus. You might want to check out some raven!neil fics too (see our raven!neil tag here). Enjoy this random selection! - S

long slow burn fics here (incl. the band fic ‘Something, Nothing & Everything’)

long, canon compliant slow burn here

previously recommended band/music aus:

‘And we’ll be running’ here

‘You Made a Monster Out of Me’ and ‘fugue in red’ here

‘Ultraviolence’ here

‘If you must’ here

‘not a lullaby’ here

some more general slow burn fics from previous posts:

‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ (since updated) and ‘Heartlines’ here

‘Of Smoke And Bone’ here (part 1 of this series is now complete)

‘that's just something people say’ here

‘N for nebulous’ here (now complete)

‘Armies’ here

So Much Younger Yesterday by thisisnotourlasthunt [Rated T, 21028 words, complete, Aftg Mixtape Exchange 2022]

Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten: Famous musicians and online rivals that are forced (at first) to form a friendship.

Drew and Abram: Two dudes that began texting through Twitters' DM's on secret accounts so no one knew who they actually were.

Truths are shared. Feelings are shared. Kisses might get shared.

But all with due time because this is a slow burn fic.

tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced internalised homophobia

Champagne, cocaine, gasoline by Fae (ronnie_sawyer) [Rated M, 3058 words, incomplete, last updated April 2022]

The crowd roars as the band takes the stage. The first spotlight illuminates the lead singer. He has a fierce expression as he takes the mic and announces, with just an edge of danger and excitement in his voice:

“The future is bulletproof!”

The crowd explodes in cheers and a second light shows the guitarist to his right. With a grin and defiance shining in his eyes he continues:

“The aftermath is secondary!”

The crowds get the loudest when the guitarist to the left of the lead singer gets his spotlight. With a million-dollar smile, he states:

“It’s time to do it now, and do it loud!”

The bassist cheerfully salutes the crowd and says:

“Hey, all of you…”

The crowd pays attention and hold their breaths as the last light shows the drummer, leaning over his instrument with a mic to tell them:

“Make some noise!”

The one where the monsters have a band instead of playing exy.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: drug abuse, tw: alcohol abuse

Kneel and Rue by elesary [Rated E, 42190 words, incomplete, last updated Feb 2022]

Find playlists for this fic here, here, here and here

Kevin Day shows up with an offer Neil can't turn down, not even to save his own life. Help Andrew Minyard write The Monster's next album and become Jos10, the newest opening act for Foxhole Records. With his butcher of a father in jail and his mother dead, Neil has a few months to savor this chance before it is ripped from his fingers.

But Riko, Kevin's oldest nightmare, knows enough about Neil to be dangerous, to clip his wings before he can even get off the ground. Uncle Stuart might have a way out, but the price might be too dear for even Neil to pay. With everything on the line, his life, his passion, a man that makes Neil want to stay, how long can Neil keep his cover, and what will he lose when it all falls apart?

or,

Neil joins a band, gets laid and starts a mob war.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: homophobic language, tw: nightmares, tw: explicit sexual content

If it means protecting you (I’ll pay my dues) by Intangibel (duskbutterfly) [Rated T, 114544 words, incomplete, last updated April 2022]

What if the threat of Aaron being charged with murder was more significant and Neil found out that he could prevent Andrew from having to be at the trial if he were to testify. What would he be willing to sacrifice to achieve that?

What if instead of refusing to testify for Aaron, Neil decides to make a deal with the FBI to become their witness against his father if they’ll backstop his current identity. He thinks it means signing his death warrant and losing the Foxes. Betsy, Aaron and the Foxes are determined to convince him it doesn’t have to be all or nothing, his father’s people are coming for him and that’s not even starting on what Andrew will have to say about Neil choosing to martyr himself.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: scars, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced drug use, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: homophobia, tw: conversion camp reference,

quicksand by likearecord [Rated M, 79727 words, complete, 2022]

Andrew and the Idiotic, Thirsty, Ill-advised, Very Off-Limits Crush on his College Roommate's Younger Brother.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

nowhere to hide by CherrryBlosssoms [Not Rated, 64978 words, incomplete, last updated April 2022]

Don't stop running, Abram. Do not tell anyone who, or what, you are. Do not let your guard down, no matter what. You are special, Abram, far too special for your own good, and Nathan knows this better than anyone. Never return to Palmetto- you will never survive if you do. Bury Nathaniel Wesninski in the very soil we walk on.

Oh well- Neil has never been particularly good at following rules.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: nightmares

Gambling - Full Fic by Lyndis [Rated M, 18081 words, incomplete, last updated Feb 2022]

Neil is a hooker in Las Vegas and struggles to make ends meet. So when an opportunity arises to earn easy money by just sitting in someone's lap, he can't not take it. Even if his new John seems anything but harmless.

Part 2 of the Vegas AU

tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

Live for you / Stay for me by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 137221 words, complete, 2021]

Wanting, wanting, wanting.

Andrew had let go of the longing to want years and years ago. He had died to start over without the need to want. He was living two lives only to protect what was his, but he was ready to let go and spend the rest of his days on the shore of Burlesca, drowning his memories in the waves crashing against the cliffs.

Wanting. Wanting. Wanting.

Strands of dark hair peeking out from a couch swept the ground underneath him. Clear blue eyes sparkling with the joy of having healthy legs pierced him. He wasn’t allowed to want. Not even an illusion. The coniglio would disappear as fast as he crashed into his world, and Andrew didn’t have any reason to learn to live without him if he hadn’t even learned to live with him.

Wanting. Wanting. Wanting.

Wanting was more dangerous than any other thing that Andrew had known.

tw: temporary major character death, tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture

A world alone by ephemeralsky [Rated T, 54850 words, complete, 2018]

“It will not be cheap,” Andrew finally says.

“I know,” Wymack says. “Two bottles of Johnnie Walker sound good to you?”

“Four,” Andrew says without missing a beat. He thinks about having to deal with Nicky later on, about the additional work he has to do, and decides that he will not do anything for less.

“Three,” Wymack argues.

“Four or we have no deal.”

Wymack mutters something about blood-sucking hooligans under his breath before he concedes with a, “Fine.”

(or: a High School AU where only some of them are high-schoolers)

tw: blood, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: scars, tw: implied/referenced islamophobia, tw: ableism, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm

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daedalmirage · 2 years

Text

casualties of love | Bella | 2.2

There are a lot of people for Bella to respond to. There are a lot of things for Bella to explain. She and Sonia are both putting on a brave face here, leaking confidence like gasoline, but if they don’t put up a united front they’re doomed. If Misery thinks she can call their bluff, she will, so they have to make her think there are no loopholes. Just a good old fashioned, straight forward, misconception.

She has a lot on her plate right now, and she doesn’t mean the untouched food in front of her partner in crime. Hesitantly, though, before anything, she bends over a bit to look at it, a strange expression overtaking her face as she stares at the soup, the ice cream, everything. Things that a sick little girl would…probably be delighted with. Things she’d try to invent herself, anything to make a strange food more enjoyable for someone trying a new thing. Her head is spinning, splitting with the world’s nastiest headache - tinnitus, she thinks, is probably more of a bitch than the wound on her shoulder - and she still feels lethargic and tired and dizzy and…and…

Th-Th was so scary…

…

There are a lot of people for Bella to respond to. There are a lot of fragments of noises amalgamating in her head, mixing together so much it all sounds like static. But the person she turns to first, considering Tezuka is out like a candle in a thunderstorm, is-

“Mari….”

She swallows, fear spiking up through her entire body into her throat and closing it off for a moment. Finally visible on her face, that confidence breaking for just a moment, she has to gather herself before continuing. Dying is scary, yes. But not just for you. It’s scary for everyone around you, and Bella remembers how it had devastated her family the first time around. She’d known it would hurt. She’d known. So why did she do it?

“Because I knew you’d pick up.”

Marigold always says she isn’t a hero. She always downplays when Bella calls her nice, or sweet, or friendly, or caring. Others warn Bella that she’s duplicitous, playing a game, or conning everyone for fun. Bella listens to them, and then she thinks about all of the times Marigold has tried her absolute best to help her with problems ranging from childish to life threatening. She thinks about Marigold sharing her convenience store cupcakes with her, or carrying her on her back, or trying the bizarre food experiments she creates with little more than a shrug and a curious outlook.

And Bella thinks that maybe, if Marigold is fooling her, she’s doing a damned good job of it.

“I left my hearing aids in my room so they wouldn’t get…broken, or trampled, or something. I knew I had to be found right away, we couldn’t waste any time - it’s not like we could do a test run, we didn’t know how long we’d have, and by all accounts the answer was ‘not much’. We couldn’t wait for Misery’s announcement. We already cut it close. I woke up not long after the investigation ended.” She pauses, rubbing at her eyes again with a grimace. “I called you because I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear you pick up, but I had faith in you, Marigold, and I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be friends anymore, I- I get it, it was cruel, but we didn’t have much of a choice. Gawain, Spade, Johann, Benkei, Ray…I thought about all of them, but I just…I just couldn’t be sure, and…and I wasn’t lying, I wasn’t fine with it in the sense of- of…we had to do this, Mari, we had to do something, or someone would die for real. Mari, I…”

Dying is scary.

Dying is terrifying. Especially when you’ve run away from it for so long, and it always felt like it was breathing down your neck. When you’ve had your own obituary pre-written for a decade, updated every few months as you shove more and more into an already bloated life.

“I was scared,”

Bella says,

“...and I didn’t want to be alone.”

#daedal mirage #ch2 afterword #ch2 #bella #submission

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queenie-the-writer · 2 years

Text

personal updates

so yeah about the whole unplanned hiatus thing…

i never meant to disappear, especially for so long. ig i just didn’t realize how burnt out i was what with dance, school, and my social life too. luckily, dance is over, school is out, and now i have more time on my hands than i know what to do with.

not to say that the break wasn’t nice. i was definitely able to focus on what mattered most in my life at the time. but i think it’s time to come back to this account. and to start, i wanted to update y’all on what i’ve been up to the past few weeks :)

1. BOOKS

i’ve found a lot of time to read recently so i thought i’d share my june reads and what i rated them!

the spanish love deception ★★★★☆

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo ★★★★★

verity ★★★★☆

boyfriend material ★★★☆☆

ugly love ★★★☆☆

heartstopper 1-4 ★★★★☆

i’ve read 27 / 40 books this year!!

2. WRITING

i actually haven’t been writing a whole lot recently since i’ve been more focused on finishing my school year, though that doesn’t mean i have nothing to say.

you may remember back in april i applied to a program offered during a semester at my school that would allow me to write and publish the first LoB book. well, i’m SO pumped to tell y’all that it’s happening, i got accepted and if everything goes as planned the first book in my series will be published by february 2023!!!! i still have a lot of work to do to get there, but that’s the dream royals <3

also, since i’ve been thinking a lot abt publishing, i’m pretty sure i’m going to be changing the titles of the LoB books. the series is still going to be called League of Blood, but the books themselves will have different titles! i prob won’t be announcing what those are for a little while :)

i have a goal this summer to write 50k of the second LoB book, which—if completed—should give me an approximate first draft to work with after the first one is published. i also want to plan out everything i want to do with the first book before school starts again.

3. ACCOUNT

i don’t think i’m going to be doing a whole lot of changes rn, i switched up the theme since i wasn’t feeling the previous format and i may tweak my posting schedule later.

queenie’s gauntlet s2 is still running! contestants are currently competing in the second event, so the gauntlet will go into july.

other than that, i hope to be active again!! i love y’all sm and missed you beyond words <333

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freckledbeom · 3 years

Note

Hello my love. Can I pls have a kyun car sex fic. Can b like friends who have a thing for each other but neither of them know or established relationship

hi love, i wrote this fic while i was feeling a little blue so im sorry if it’s a little drawn out. hope this is what you wanted! ~

car sex w/ kyunnie [18+]

side note before you all read this fic, i just wanna say how grateful i am. sometimes i go on hiatuses or don’t update in a timely manner but i still get so much love & for that im truly grateful. it’s all love here, ill be here for you all like you’re here for me <33

warnings; 18+ content, suggestive scenes

listening to outta time by bryson tiller ♪

it wasn’t unlikely for changkyun to call you at late hours of the night, he was usually studio bound at this time anyway. what was unusual lie in his simple, but daring request.

“come downstairs.” he barred a monotone voice through the phone.

his puzzling request struck curiousity in your bones; you couldn’t not meet him downstairs now. grabbing nothing but a spare pullover and sliding into your house shoes, your heart fluttered in your chest. what could he possibly want?

after finally reaching your destination, changkyun turned around, your eyes meeting.

he almost looked the same as you, dressed in not much but a pair of sweats and a loose hoodie. although you would probably never tell him, his appearance was one of the many factors that drew you in.

stepping foward, changkyun cracked a slight smile. “you didnt take long.” he joked, tilting his head to the side a little.

“neither did you.” you replied, smiling back at him. “are you here to just look at me or did you have something you wanted?”

he paused a little before responding, licking his bottom lip. that was enough to fuel the fire between your legs.

“what if i wanted to just look at you?” his breath hitched a little.

your heart was beating so fast you were sure changkyun could hear your excitement ready to leap out of your chest. you were even more sure of this since the dialogue between the two of you had ceased.

“kidding.” changkyun hit your arm a little, as if he was knocking you back to reality. “i do miss you though, you wanna go for a drive?”

right. he didn’t see you in that way. of course, this was expected since he had many other things in his life; you would be the last on his mind.

the walk to the parking garage was a brisk, but quiet one. your interactions weren’t usually this awkward, today was an especially off one. from kyun suddenly showing up at your apartment, to this odd tension that appeared, you could hear the silence.

opening the door for you, changkyun walked around to his side and got in.

“your car smells nice.” a pathetic attempt to crack the silence.

“it smells like me.” changkyun answered affirmatively, looking directly at you.

rolling your eyes, you gave your attention to the moon in front of you.

you could feel his eyes drawing in on you, lasered into the side of your skull. turning so you made eye contact, you tilted your head a little.

"staring contest?"

changkyun scoffed jokingly. "i'll win but sure."

you didn’t know what was stranger about this night; the way he looked at you or the way his looks kindled the fire between your legs.

"why do you keep looking at me like that?" you choked out, palms growing sweaty in the process.

"it's a staring contest." changkyun retorted.

"no i mean-"

his lips didn't allow you to give further explanation, his tongue lay bait for you to fall under. your breaths hitched and stilled. his hands wandered every which way until one landed on your chin, tilting it upwards.

if this was bliss then the second he pulled away was sudden death, leaving you puckered & red.

leaning back in with your noses just touching, changkyun bit his bottom lip. "i can kiss you like that right? is that ok?"

this time you opted out of verbal response, answering him the same way he did you.

changkyun's hands moved from your face to your bottom, pulling you over on the driver's side so you could sit on his lap. instinctively, you reached to the side and lowered the seat back.

his hands wandered underneath your sweater to fondle your breasts. the friction from your lower bodies and the way he touched you was enough make you bellow out a shallow moan. you could feel him growing beneath you, leaving you soaked.

bringing you down towards him, changkyun lifted away your top to give him full access to your nipples. unknowingly, your hips ground against his crotch.

changkyun let out a breathy moan, latching harder onto your breast.

“changkyun...i want you so bad...” you whined out, his brows raising at your request. tilting his head with his mouth now removed from your chest, changkyun bit his bottom lip.

“say it again for me.” his breath hitching a little.

with no hesitation, the words stuttered out of you. “i want you so bad.”

a part of you imagined that he got a kick out of hearing your desperation crawl out of itself. so much so that every reedy whine from you earned a bite at your neck or a grope to your backside.

this time you had earned the feel of his manhood, not a cushion but a slab of pure concrete, stiff under you.

playing with the hem of your shorts, changkyun met with your eyes for direct contact. “we don’t have to take these off.”

and you didn’t, with him pushing them to the side just enough to give access to your bare middle. finally, you could catch a glance of his lower. it sat up high, thick & gleaming with precum; it was as if it was waiting for you.

steadily, you sunk down onto changkyun, biting your lip carefully to not cry out. changkyun pulled your upper back forward so that you were chest to chest, keeping another on your bottom. slowly, you rocked your lower half on his throbbing member. the two of you kept eye contact, while his hand that was once on your upper back was now on your face.

out of the many faces changkyun had showed you, the one he was giving me at this particular moment had you ready to climax then and there. cheeks flushed, changkyun bit down on his lower lip, never breaking away from you.

a harsh slap to your ass made you whine even louder. “right there....it feels so good right there...”

speeding up your pace, you sat up a little so that both hands could sit flat against his chest. with one hand on his shoulder and the other on this chiseled chest, you bounced on his lap, sounds from your sopping middle filling the air.

changkyun reached a hand up to steady your thigh, with his mouth now agape. “fuck, did i get you this wet? huh?”

in a shallow attempt to conceal your moans you bit your lip, only for changkyun to catch on rather quickly.

his palms took grip of your ass, giving him full access to thrust himself into you. you only cried out, falling back onto his chest while he took you from under

times like this there was nowhere else your mind wandered except how he made you feel.

“mmm…changkyun…” every time you began a sentence it seemed as if you blacked out.

joining his rhythm, you brought your your hips back down onto him. it only took a few more strokes to have you, once again, calling out to him.

“i think im gonna come.” your grip on his shoulders tightened so that you could straighten up and look at him.

“yeah?” he answered, his eyes saturated with eagerness.

“mhmm.”

changkyun gave a harsh slap to your rear while biting his lip.

“go ahead…fuck…go ahead and come on me.”

you surrendered, riding him until your legs and core gave out. trembling, you stilled your movements only when you heard changkyun announce his orgasm.

panting, you look at the mess you made of him. although the garage was dimly lit, you still could share gaze with him.

“is this what you called me out here for?” you questioned.

he chuckled, licking his bottom lip. “does this count as a confession.”

“not at all.”

#monsta x #monsta x au #monsta x changkyun #monsta x smut #kpop #kpop smut #changkyun au #changkyun smut

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hollyethecurious · 2 years

Note

Does Colin do anything anymore other than attend a random Comic Con or two? I see your pictures, and it’s nice to see his face. But it’s just a reminder that he hasn’t done… anything… in a while. It’s been hard to stay his fan with him showing zero interest in maintaining his career 😔

Hey there, Nonny.

Soooo, I'm gonna be honest. I feel like there's a lot to unpack here, but I'm lacking the energy to do so bc real life kinda has me down right now. So I'm gonna share some thoughts, and what follows are 100% my feelings and opinions on the matter of Colin's career.

So, here goes...

The truth is, we don't know what Colin is or is not doing in regards to his career. We don't know the conversations he has with his agent, we don't know the roles he auditions for, we don't know the projects he may or may not be working on until they are publicly announced, and it has always been that way.

Also, we don't know what his interest level is. We don't know if there are new ventures he wants to branch out into, like more voice acting or the podcast he recently did. We don't know what life has been like for him while he's enjoyed so much time at home in Ireland with not only his immediate family, but his extended one as well. We don't know what role the pandemic has played in any of these areas, either.

I know it is frustrating to be a fan and not have new content to flail over, but to assert that it is because he's doing nothing or has zero interest in his career seems a bit... presumptuous and well... wrong, in my opinion. Because as I said, We. Don't. Know.

And I'm gonna share another opinion that you might not want to hear, and I'm sorry if you came into my inbox hoping for some commiseration, but...

I don't think Colin owes us any answers. I don't think he owes us his time. I don't think he owes us his career choices or social media presence or regular updates on his projects. And I know some people will argue with that, but that's honestly how I feel, despite the joking comments or cheeky tags I might post.

I think Colin is an amazing actor. He's one of my faves, and I HOPE he continues to land roles and be a part of fantastic projects, but ... It's his life. His career. I don't get a say in it. None of us do.

I'll continue to be a fan of his because of the work he HAS done, and I'll support any new projects he becomes a part of, even if I'm not entirely jazzed by them. However, it is valid for fans to grow weary and impatient and choose to focus their fandom energy elsewhere, and that's totally fine as long as they aren't rude or disrespectful about it (and I truly hope no one takes what I've said as rude or disrespectful, bc that is absolutely NOT how it is intended).

Bottom line... I get the frustration. I understand that you miss him, I do, too. I stand with you in the hope that we'll see him on our screens in a new role we can all fall in love with (or love to hate, lol), very, VERY soon. Until then, remember that just because we don't see it, witness it, hear about it, or have concrete knowledge of it, doesn't mean he isn't working. In fact, we know he has been bc he does have a project coming out in August on Apple TV, so that is something we can all look forward to.

P.S. he looked damned good at DCC today and all my love and thanks goes out to those who supplied us with the above mentioned pics!

#curious replies #im tired #and stuck in a depression spiral #so im sorry if this isnt...#a suitable response??#but its the best i got at the moment

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peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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