#if you have No Idea what the fuck I'm talking about...cheers. the important bit of this post is that I'm sick and unhappy about it lmao

[felixvanhuss]

Guess who's siiiiick! Because I simply cannot catch a fucking break!

[anadiasmount]

of course it’s real - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: what happens when he suddenly shows up on your doorstep? could be a leap of reconciliation or something completely different?

wc: 3.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

➡️ part one: is this real?

psa 🗣️: this is part two to the long-awaited is this real fic! this a +18 post, so minors dni as it contains fingering, and unprotected sex 🔞. just a small bit of smut since someone requested in the fic! hope you enjoy 🤍 once again, contains mature content for 18+!

“Hi… Uh- sure come in,” you stammered, your heart beating out your chest quickly. It came as a shock to you that he was standing there, after weeks and months of not seeing him. Why was he here? Did he come to ask for something back? Jude felt the same way, pulse rate quicker than before he knocked on your brown door, before seeing you dressed up fancy. He was followed by Duke, who quickly came into Jude’s embrace, kissing Jude’s cheek, and wagging his tail. 

“You know you can’t be here right?” you ask, crossing your arms against your chest. “Who says that?” Jude retorts, standing back up and fiddling with his pants. “Well, you just finished with your club, now going into the International break. Shouldn’t you be at camp instead of here?” you question, walking to retrieve your bag and shoes. 

“Going somewhere?” Jude said, a protective maybe jealous tone undermining the tone from before. He was curious, maybe small taken at back because of how stunning you looked. It reminded him when the two of you were together and went out on date nights. Holding hands, sharing kisses, hugs, and nights of passionate sex. The memory of him gifting you a necklace with his initial to you popping into his head.

All he could come up with now is either you going on a date or attending an important event. “Yeah, I was invited to an art show so I'm headed there with friends for the evening,” you offer a small smile, to which Jude cheered on the inside.  So you couldn't be dating again, or have moved on right? “My friend Giovan is waiting Jude… I don’t want it to seem like I'm kicking you out but I have somewhere to be.”

Giovan? Who the fuck was that? Jude thought. “I wanted to talk to you about us.” 

“What do you mean? We ended a while ago…” you reply, not failing to notice Jude wincing at your words. A small frown on his face, brows drawn in and him biting the inside of his cheek. “Please… I just want you to hear me out. We can go on from there… I really miss you ba- Y/n…” 

You felt your heart tighten and beat faster. A pang of hurt and betrayal took over you, and all you wanted was to now stay in as old memories resurfaced of your healing stage. Refusing to go out, the routine you built, constantly blaming yourself for not being enough, you weren't trusting Jude’s words anymore. 

“Uh-” you shook your head and laughed trying to hold back tears. If you would have heard this the day you broke up or even a couple of days after, you would have gladly accepted him back. Maybe you could've been in Spain with him, going on walks with Duke, taking care of his injuries, being the girlfriend he wanted. But this was reality, and as much as it hurt, you wanted to protect yourself from another heartbreak. 

“I don’t know Jude. I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said nervously, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Tell me that you miss me too, tell me that you still love me the way I love you, tell me there's still a chance for us, tell me you’re still mine, was what Jude wanted to say, but once again he was left without words. 

“I have to go-”

“What if I come with you? I promise I won't pull anything. But please, we can talk there, hang out, like old times,” he proposed the idea. “What, like pretending to be the couple we were? What if I don’t want to hear what you have to say? What if you are lying again?” you say finally, having built up the courage and patience to spit out how you felt. While it felt relieving, you didn’t want to hurt the man you still love. 

“I think you're trying to avoid confrontation Y/n. I know you. Plus, you still wouldn’t be wearing my necklace if it didn't mean anything,” he walked over, his index finger connecting with the charm, watching how he had an effect on you. Your breathing rapidly increased, watching how your chest pumped in and out trying to control it. Fuck, was all you thought, he caught you. 

You look up and see how his brown iris gaze into you, a dingle of hope plastered on them. His lashes reached his top eyelid, and then touched his cheek as he blinked. Unbeknownst to the two of you, but your bodies were closely together now, one move from the two of you, and you would be pressed up. You cleared your throat and backed away, playing with the charm as you spoke, “This is such a bad idea…”

“But why does it feel so right? So real,” Jude said, shrugging his shoulders. This could end badly, maybe you running out of the showcase in tears or cause a scene and embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers. But maybe it could be the opposite, who knows, only faith undermining the situation. “Please. I wouldn't be here if it didn't mean anything,” he begged again, to which you sighed and finally accepted. 

“I have a suit in my luggage, give me a couple of minutes to change and fix my hair and we can head out okay?” Jude said, but you were afraid to speak, only muttering a quick ‘okay’. Jude was like a drug, an addictive one, and as much as you wanted to let go, it was becoming difficult. It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real, right? But when you saw him come out now dressed, you knew there was no way to deny your true feelings. 

The Uber driver played slow and relaxed music, you leaned against the car window, your hand propped up to hold your head as you watched out. Jude being freakishly tall struggled with his legs, finally just spreading them apart and watching as you looked out. He wanted to reach over and pull you into him, kiss your head down to your neck, whisper words of encouragement, and hold you like he once did. But he couldn’t not knowing if you were willing to let him do so. 

When the two of you walk into the exhibit, a photographer takes a couple of photos, asking you to pose and embrace each other. As awkward as it may have been, Jude didn't let the opportunity of his hand coming around your waist and pulling you into a protective matter go to waste. His touch ignited a fire in you, a familiar sense of butterflies invading your tummy as his thumb drew circles over the material. 

You couldn't help but wrap your hand around his bicep, feeling the prominent muscles he built over the months as you walked inside the venue. He was huge compared to a while back. You smiled and guided him to your friends, to which you embraced and talked to. Giovan hugged you tight, too close for Jude’s liking, which made him clench his fist and jaw at the sight. But oh boy was he wrong. 

“And who is this handsome lad? Don’t tell me this is your man or I'll be upset Y/n,” Giovan said in a flirtatious tone, fluttering his eyelashes and extending his hand, to which Jude shook. A tint of blush and redness spread across his cheeks, making you smirk and giggle. “Not my man, just an old friend who has come down to visit me,” you intervene, standing aside to where Jude silently begged with his eyes. 

“Alright now Gio, settle down, don't scare him off now,” you joke, to which your friend just rolls his eyes and smiles. “Of course not! I'll see the two of you around, maybe you can buy me a drink,” he hinted to Jude who just nodded shyly. You look away laughing to which Jude embarrassed chuckles, “It's not funny.” 

But the playful mood turned awkward again as you roamed the exhibit of paintings, photography and sculptures. You came across a painting of white swans who looked over at the sunset, cuddled into their embraces, far away and disclosed to where the exhibit was held. It was minimal lighting and no other people.

It reminded you of when Jude broke things off, leaving for Spain, and then again when he caught you moving out. You close your eyes and shake away the memory, but Jude sees. “Are you okay?” 

“Why are you here Jude?” you ask again, you’re tired of the constant confused signals and feelings for him. For once you want him to be straight on how he feels about you, instead of continuing this cycle of unsureness. 

“I’m here for you… to fix us…” Jude says you let out a laugh of disbelief. You find the strength to look him in the eyes as he talks. “There is no us anymore Jude, you broke that off.”

“That’s why I'm here. I want to fix us and earn you back. If it's not you then it's no one. I'm really hoping you can forgive me, for what I did and the pain I cost you. I never meant for all this to happen, I thought I knew what I wanted but I was so so wrong Y/n. You shaped me into who I am today, and I'll forever be thankful for that. You made me into the person I am and without you, I'm so lost,” Jude pleads, his eyes glossy as he reaches for your hands. 

“I was stupid to let you go, to lose all the trust you built for me. I’ll admit it, I was only thinking of myself instead of you when I broke it off, but I was scared of losing you. It's true I didn't know what I wanted but I do now. You being so distant from me right now is breaking my heart because I feel like I lost you. Did I lose you, baby?” he continued, your eyes brimming with tears at his soft tone when asking his question. 

What if it was too late? What if you couldn't love him or be enough like you expected? What if there was no point in trying again if it meant the same outcome? Were you seriously going to risk everything for a guy who proved in the past they didn't think of anyone but themselves? 

Your silence was killing Jude. Maybe he did hurt you, and he could never recover from that if that was the case. This whole time being apart, from the day at the park to you moving your stuff out, to now, the distance was becoming a long and heavy weight on his shoulders. To not know how you felt, to not hear your voice, to hold you close afraid of letting go always popped into his head. Spending his nights unable to sleep, or even go out. 

“You really hurt me… I never expected you to suddenly give up on us, especially when we were doing so good? We were happy, at least I was. I was not only watching you succeed, but I was watching my favourite person in the world, stay with me at my side, promising me that nothing would come between us. If you had those feelings why didn’t you ever say anything? Why couldn't you just talk to me, like I always said?” you finally break your silence, a tear dropping from your cheek. 

“It's hurting me that you're here. It hurt me when the only person in the world I ever trusted suddenly wanted to let go. It hurt me back when I moved out, knowing it was probably the last time I would see you. It hurts to be reminded of you, and remember the good times we had because I knew they would never come back. But most of all, it hurts me to see you sad and upset,” you sob, turning away from his teary eyes not being able to take the pain. 

You felt his arms hug you, his embrace warm and comforting, and as you found yourself leaning into it, you could hear his rapid heartbeat like yours. Feel the pain slowly disappear from your veins and finally gain control. The nights of constant terrors and crying, on a stream swimming away when he breathed into you. You felt at home. The butterflies and intimate contact now swarming your chest and tummy once again.  

“If I knew how to take your pain away, I would do it. To see you hurting because of me, is hard. But I want you to know I’ve matured, that I'm willing to do anything it takes to have you back and call you mine. It's not because it feels like it's something I have to do, or live up to, it's because I truly am nothing without you,” he held your cheek in his larger palm, his other arm securely on your waist wrapped around. 

“I'm not myself, my friends and family have noticed. If your presence isn't next to mine, it's like I'm running on my head overthinking, I'm just lost.”

“Jude-”

“I love you. I've never stopped, and I don't think I ever will…” and there he said, the three words he once confessed to you before, repeated again. The three words that mean so much more than his confession, the words you've been longing to hear but are so afraid of because it will forever mean more than a simple “I want you back’ or “I miss you.” You gasped, taking a gulp of nothing because this was real. 

“Is this real?” you asked, pointing at the two of you, watching as Jude’s face softened even more. A small frown on his lips and brows relaxed, the wrinkle on his eyes as he blinked hard appearing. “Yes.”

“I'm saying is everything you're telling me now real? No bullshit. No more lies. No unsureness. Is this real, Jude?” A feeling of hope filled his chest, replacing the torture he felt before. “This is more than real. You’re the realest thing that I've ever experienced, and I want it to be like that, forever.”

“Forever?” you ask again, your brow raising as confirmation to which he let out a small laugh, “Yes. Forever. If we do this again, you're not leaving my side, and I'm not leaving yours. Forever.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for? Kiss me Jude.”

He gave you one more look to confirm things but you quickly got on your tippy toes and smashed your lips against his. Jude pushed you up against the wall, hands roaming down to your hips where he gripped them tightly. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip tasting the familiar cherry taste he loved so deeply. Your hands moved all around his chest, finally gripping the back of his neck, drawing a small moan when he bit your lip. 

He kissed you again, lips never separating from you as he picked you up and once again caged on the wall. Your legs come around his torso, your core throbbing and rubbing against his upper abs. “Jude we can’t… not here. They will hear us…” you whimper when he kisses the inner corners of your mouth, and then down to your jaw. “Then you’ll have to be quiet. You can do that, be a good girl for me and be quiet.”

Your chin slightly trembled as he continued to kiss all the way down to your collarbone, inhaling your scent. Marking you as his, and leaving a purple mark on the hot skin. All you could do was move your hips around and try to feel the friction to get rid of the sensitivity you felt, but it was hard when Jude kept pulling back. “Is that what you want? For me to touch you?” he groaned, voice huskier and deep as he pulled you into a messy kiss. 

There was no way you could go back and let people see you like this. But you couldn't care, all you could care about was the way Jude set you down and dragged his fingertips from your calves to your inner thighs.His nails tickling and drawing shaped as he kissed and marked your boob once more.

His trail felt hot, he was teasing you, your legs squirmed around to find his touch. And when you finally grew enough of his games, you grabbed his wrist, and placed it exactly where you wanted him. “Here Jude. I want you to touch me here, please,” you whispered in his ear, biting the skin and pressing a small kiss. Jude ran his hand on top of your clothed core, noticing the wet material behind it. 

“Once I make you cum, you're all mine. Do you understand?” 

“I’ve always been yours,” and with that he dragged his fingers against your wet folds, rubbing a circle on your clit, making you let out a gasp. “That’s right baby. You've always been mine pretty girl,” he smiled against your lips, kissing your top lip. His fingers teased your entrance, groaning at how wet you were, causing you to clench your legs around his hand and look away. “Open your legs baby… Let me touch you just how you like.”

He kissed your cheek, and used his free hand to bring your face back to his gently. “Focus on me baby,” he pecked your jaw, “Focus on my touch,” Jude placed another kiss on your cheek, “Focus on my fingers,” he kissed your shoulder as his fingers finally drew inside of you, “Focus on my lips,” without hesitation you kissed him to hide the loud moan that would've left your mouth. 

His fingers were completely coated with your arousal, easily sinking them deeper as he drew them in and out. Your body shuddered, back arching against the wall as his fingers drew and now your clit were all being touched. You felt starved, completely vulnerable at his sake. 

“It feels s-s-so good, Jude,” you whined, your head thrown back as you kept a tight grip on his white blouse. “I know, but I can feel it, you’re almost there for me. So tight, always tight,” he moaned, his cock becoming harder than before. He heard your pants, small whines as you kept grinding on his hand, the cold tingle he felt down his spine as you shivered against him. 

Jude picked up the pace, sighing with pleasure when you felt his bulge, and almost shamingly came. “S-s-shit baby.”

He nibbled on your neck to quiet down the noises the two of you were making, leaving wet kisses all over your tainted skin, feeling your lips quivering in pleasure as he finally made you reach your high. You cried out, and sucked in a sharp breath when he hit that certain spot, the one he always found, either with his fingers or cock. 

“All mine.” 

Jude quickly untucked his belt, and took his hard cock out the tightness off his boxers, grunting at the cold air in the room. “Can you still be quiet for me? One more, just one more for me…” he kissed you and quickly picked you up again, holding you strongly so you wouldn't fall, but he couldn't help himself but pin you hands above your head. 

“If it becomes too much tell me,” Jude said, dragging the tip along your wet fold before finally sinking into you. Your back was completely pinned against the wall, sliding up and down as he began to thrust into you slowly but rough. He moved mindlessly, drawing out sounds from the two of you as he thrusted into you deeper. Your name fell out his lips, causing you to squeeze your legs around him, also your wet folds around his cock at the same time. 

You felt like heaven, and Jude was sure he would be cumming quickly. The two of you were close, so close that in a few more thrust the two of you would be moaning in relief. He let go of your pinned wrists, his two hands now on your hips as he slowly drew in and out, harder and deeper. “God, you feel so good. Doing so good for me… God I love you,” he kissed you, your hand resting on the back of his head returning the kiss. 

He continued to breathlessly move inside you, his forehead on your shoulder to reduce the sounds of his moans and groans. The art frames on the wall banging due the pace of his thrust, but he couldn't care. But when you continued to clench around him, Jude continuing the pace he was doing, your bodies trembled in pleasure, having Jude prep his hand in the wall so the two of you wouldnt fall. You could feel it, the way you pulsed around his cock, the ropes of cum he continued to spurt into you. 

“I love you,” he kissed his initial and then lips, now that were slightly swollen after making out for a while. You brushed the hairs on his temple that were messy back into place, smiling like an idiot as he remained still inside you. 

“I love you too Jude.”

➡️tags: @xjval 🤍

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[tbmunson]

Escape - Gareth Emerson x Reader

Summary: You and Gareth get paired for the most important art project of the semester.

Warnings: Slow burn, idiots in love, caring for Gareth's sisters.

WC: 4,730

Notes: I'm in recovery for surgery, so updates will be slow. Shout out to @ashes-writing for being my absolute bestie and letting me bounce ideas.

1 / 2 / 3

PART 1

“Okay, class, you’ll work as partners for your final project.” Mr. Greely the art teacher stated, earning a cheer from the class. “I wouldn’t cheer so fast. I paired you up myself. This project is to make art based on what you learn about your partner, hence the little questionnaire at your tables. It can be a painting, drawing, or sculpture. Any audio recordings or mixed tapes will be given a zero. This is art, not band.

You rolled your eyes, but not because you wouldn’t be working with Tiffany, the only other cheerleader in the class, but because there was a chance you’d have to work with one of the meatheaded basketball players. You didn’t really want to work with her either, but that was a whole other can of worms.

Mr. Greely droned on, only catching your attention when he said your name. “You’ll be working with Emerson.”

Your eyes widened, which caught the attention of a few of your classmates who began to giggle. The panic was not from the boy himself, rather the fear you would accidentally fall harder for him if you got to really know him. Your focus was disrupted by shuffling next to you as Gareth settled into the desk paired with yours. “Hi.” You said softly, meek almost.

Gareth assumed this was due to disdain for him, presented a bit more politely. He did hear the giggles after all. “What’s up?” Not a question, just a simple acknowledgement to your greeting.

You studied his side profile, debating the different art forms you could use to relay the puffy haired metalhead next to you.

“You have a month to complete this project. Oh, and, your partner will be grading you on how well they think you relay them to the world. That does have an effect on the overall grade, so get to know each other.” Mr. Greely finished as the bell rang.

“So, I don’t know if you’re busy tonight with it being Friday and all, but my house is free tonight if you want to come do the questionnaire.” You offered sweetly as you packed your notebook into your bag.

“I, uh, have to watch my sisters tonight, but, if you want to, I mean, you can come to my place.” His nerves were apparent, which made you smile.

“Yeah, I’ll find you at lunch and finalize the details.” You gripped the strap to your backpack and turned to meet Tiffany at the door.

She sputtered out a laugh as she glanced over her shoulder to Gareth. “You really got paired with the freak, huh?”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll. “Tiff, I’ve known him since forever. He’s a sweet guy. Just because he listens to different music and doesn’t dress the same doesn’t make him a freak.” You replied, trying to keep your tone level so as to not snap at the head of the cheerleading team.

“He plays a fucking fantasy game, babe. It’s weird.” She chirps back as if it was common knowledge.

“It’s an escape. Everyone has an escape. You totally zone out when you cheer. That’s your escape.” You’re fully annoyed now, but not showing it, which is hard due to the fact that she just laughs, mumbling a “Whatever.” under her breath.

You break off into your math class and sit next to Eddie Munson. “Hey, Eddie.” You say, catching his attention.

He peeks around you, looking around.

“What are you doing?” You ask, furrowing your brows.

“Wondering why Hawkins High’s very own princess is trying to talk to me. Not that I’m complaining. Just curious.” He responded with an amused look.

You can’t help the small smile that spreads at his antics. “I’m talking to you because I’m a nice person and I let you cheat off of me. It’s time to repay the favor.”

“Ooh, princess wants something from the freak. Enlighten me.” He taps the tips of his fingers together in a way that would mook maniacal if it weren’t Eddie.

You roll your eyes at the dramatics. “I have an art project and I need-”

“I will not model naked for you if that’s what you’re asking.” He had a very serious look on his face, which meant he was totally joking, something you’d come to know sitting next to him in three different classes.

You smacked his arm and furrowed your brow. “No. I need the inside scoop on Gareth. He’s my partner and I have to get to know him, like really get to know him for this project.”

Eddie nods, resting his chin in his hand. “Okay. I can help you with that. As long as I keep copying your homework and cheating off of your tests.” He smirked, a wide grin plastering his face.

“In all honesty, I didn’t even think about using that as a threat.” You giggled, reaching over and scribbling your number onto a page with a scratched out doodle in his notebook. “Call me tomorrow. I’ll be at Gareth’s tonight.”

“Oh yeah, date night.” Eddie replied kind of like an off hand comment.

“It’s not a date, Eddie.” Your eyes were wide again like they had been in art class.

Eddie laughed and shook his head. “I mean his parents. He has to watch his sisters. Although I may be reading into that reaction a little too much, but I think you-”

“Not another word or the copying does stop.” Your face was hard, begging him not to speak the words you already knew were true. You would like to go on a date with him, but this, getting to really know him as part of a project, it’ll work too. Better, you convince yourself. Better because there’s no pressure to actually like him and if you don’t, well at least you'll know and you can stop this pitiful pining over him.

“Yes, your highness.” Eddie bows as much as he can while sitting before the teacher begins class.

Two class periods later you were headed to lunch. Once you made it to the cafeteria you headed right for the Hellfire table, leaving a very confused Stephanie in the doorway. As you approached a group of freshmen were settled at the table. “Hi, does Gareth sit here?” You knew he did, but striking up a conversation would be better than just claiming a seat that didn’t belong to you.

The curly haired one looked up, surprised a cheerleader was talking to him. “I, uh, yeah.” he sputtered, earning a glare from the dark haired one.

“Dude, you can’t just tell people like-” He cuts himself off, looking up at you and wondering if you’d tear him a new one.

You laughed and leaned against the table. “I know. People like me have a bad rap, and usually for good reason. I have an art project with Gareth and we need to go over some details. No malice. No ill intent. Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky, waiting for one of the group to make their move.

The smaller boy with a bowl cut reaches out, linking his pinky with yours. “He’ll be here in a few. He usually takes a smoke break before coming to lunch. That’s his seat,” He points to a chair on the edge of the opposite side of the table. “And Jeff isn’t here today, so the spot next to him is open if you want to sit.”

“Thank you.” You smile before rounding the table and sitting in the middle seat. “My name is Y/N, by the way.” You offer a hand over the table for any one of them to take.

The curly haired boy reaches over and shakes it, “I’m Dustin, this is Mike and Will.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. So, how does Dungeons and Dragons work? I’ve never played but it seems interesting from what I’ve seen.” You can’t find it in yourself to regret the question as Dustin and Will go into an in depth explanation of the game. You were so drawn in that you didn’t notice Gareth walking up to the table, or the look of horror as the freshmen bombarded you with facts about a fantasy game, even if he loved that fantasy game more than most things.

“Alright you guys, I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear about DnD.” Gareth sighed as he sat, drawing the attention of the four of you.

You gave him a playful glare. “I asked, actually. It sounds like a lot of fun. Very creative.” You were smiling by the end.

Gareth nodded, unable to help the thought that you were only saying that to seem nice and use it against them later. He immediately felt bad because in all the years of classes together, you’d never been that way. “Okay, well, I’m sorry. You can continue, Dustin.”

“Actually, Dustin, as much as I want to hear the differences in characters, I really need to get some stuff settled with Gareth about this project. How about I come sit here on Monday and you and Will can finish telling me about it.” You offered, finding the kids incredibly charming and utterly adorable.

“Yeah!” Dustin replied, opening a book to keep track of what he’d filled you in on already.

Gareth chuckled and leaned over to whisper to you. “You really don’t have to let them torture you like this.” The way his voice rumbled in your ear mixed with the warmth of his breath cascading down your neck, you knew you were screwed.

“Gare, really, I want to know about it. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You assured him, placing a hand on his forearm and giving it a small squeeze.

Gareth didn’t know what else to say, so he only offered a crooked smile instead.

“Good, it’s settled. Now to the main task at hand. What time do I need to come over?”

He shrugged and went over the schedule in his head. “I’m gonna do dinner at 5:30, give them a bath, and let them play. They’ll be out by 7:30.” He offered more as a question.

“Or, I can bring dinner from Benny’s around 6, help you give them a bath, and we can all watch a movie before they go to bed.” You twisted a curl around your finger as you waited for his response.

He nodded and smiled. “Yeah, they’d like that.”

You slid your notebook and a pen in front of him. “Write down your order and I’ll be over by six.”

“Do you even know where I live?” He quirked a brow as he scribbled down an order.

“Gareth Emerson, I have lived down the street from you my whole life. Of course I know where you live.” You reached out and gently smacked his shoulder.

Gareth laughed and held a hand up in surrender. “I’m just making sure. I’d hate for you to get lost and leave me starving.” He jokes, sliding the notebook across the table with the order, along with his number. “See you tonight?”

“For sure, but you’re going to see me sitting here for the rest of lunch, if that’s okay with you.” You looked up at him through your lashes.

“It’s totally fine!” Dustin said, grabbing your attention. You’d almost forgotten about the freshmen sitting across from you.

You laughed and nodded, knowing he wanted to continue his spill about the different kinds of characters.

The end of the day came and you were headed out to your car when you were stopped by Tiffany. “What in the hell were you doing at that table of freaks during lunch?”

Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t let your anger show. “I had to come up with a plan for this project. Gareth is my partner. Art is the only class we have together and I’d like to get it started sooner rather than later.”

Tiffany scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“Actually, I’ll be there Monday too, and probably a few times throughout the next couple of weeks. I’ll sit with you guys on game days so no one sees me in my uniform at their table, but this project is important to me. Art is important to me. You know I want to be an artist. If getting to know him is what it takes to make a kickass piece, then I’m doing it.” Your tone wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, letting her know there would be no room for negotiation.

She didn’t say anything, just stomped away, which caught the attention of the older Hellfire members.

“I think she just stood up for us.” Grant said, eyebrows raised.

Gareth pressed his back against the brick wall and looked up at the tin of the sidewalk covers. “Fuck.” He shook his head as he breathed deeply.

“What, Emerson?” Eddie cocked a brow at Gareth’s pained expression.

“I don’t know. Like, this is going to be so hard. I’ve only been in love with her since kindergarten. Now she’s sitting at my lunch table, standing up for me and my friends, and she’s coming to my fucking house tonight. How am I supposed to do this?”

Eddie couldn’t help but to laugh at his friend's pained expression. “I usually don’t get in the middle of this crap, but, earlier I made a joke about it being date night. She got really defensive, and that’s fully a sign that she’s into you. Maybe just go for it?”

“You’re so full of shit, Munson. She’s just a nice person and didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.” He replied, finally pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow at practice. Gotta get home so my parents can head out.”

Eddie and Grant mumbled their goodbyes before making their way to Eddie’s van.

It was currently 5:50 and you’d just pulled into the Emerson’s driveway with a passenger seat full of food and shakes. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding before cutting the engine and getting out of the car. You’d barely made it to the passenger door when the glossy red door to the house flung open.

“Lori, get back here!” Gareth’s exhausted yell came as he chased her down the steps, not yet realizing you’d arrived. He scooped her up as she giggled.

“I was trying to see your friend!” Lori‘s giggles quickly turned into a whine when she realized her brother had no plans to put her feet back on the ground.

Gareth finally looked up, making eye contact with you as you rested your elbow on the roof of the car. “Hey, uh, sorry. One sec.” He finally returned Lori’s feet to the ground but made her look at him. “Go back inside. I’m going to help Y/N bring the food in and you can see her in there, okay?”

She pouted but nodded before walking slowly to the house.

“Someone’s got the dad voice down.” You smiled, bending to grab the bags as Gareth made his way over to you in a pair of grey sweat pants and a faded Metallica shirt.

“Yeah, well, someone had to be when my dad split a few years ago. Rick is nice though.” He replied, reaching to take the bags out of your hands.

You nodded, smiling as his skin brushed yours. “I think you’re doing a great job considering she actually listened.” You offered before bending back down to get the drink tray with the shakes.

Gareth planned on replying, but he was silenced by the sight of you bent over and the amount of leg coming out of the old practice cheer shorts you’d changed into. He watched you stand and bump the door with your hip to close it.

“C’mon Gare, shakes are melting.” You said, taking a few steps towards his house.

He nodded and followed wordlessly. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

As you and his sisters settled into the table Gareth apologized again that his sisters threw a fit to both sit next to you.

“They’re fine, Gareth. Tell your brother to stop worrying so much, Lori.”

“Yeah, stop worrying that much.” She sassed, making you laugh and Gareth roll his eyes.

“I don’t know how Clara expects me to help her with her food all the way over there.” He gave the youngest girl a look as if to say ‘didn’t think of that, did you’.

“I’ve got it. It’s just chicken and fries. She’s safe in my care.” You assured him as you opened the small styrofoam container to start tearing the strips into more manageable pieces for a two year old

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to.” He replied sincerely.

You sighed and turned to look at him. “Gareth, it’s okay to let people do stuff for you. If I minded I wouldn’t be doing it. Do you trust that?”

He was at a loss for words, only nodding in response.

“Good. Now eat your burger before it gets cold.” You instructed as you finished tearing the chicken. “One at a time, Clara. Don’t put another in your mouth until the first one is all gone, okay?”

The small girl with white curly hair and bright blue doe eyes nodded, reaching for a piece of her chicken.

You popped a fry into your mouth, fully ready to dive into your burger when there was a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Lori looking at you with a pout.

“Can you do my chicken too? Pretty please.” She looked like she was scared you would say no.

“Of course, baby doll! Let me see.” You pulled her plate over to you and started ripping the chicken into bits.

“Lori, you eat strips all the time.” Gareth stated after swallowing a bite of his burger.

“Gareth, eat your burger and let her be. She wants my attention and that’s okay.” You assured him, cutting your eyes over to look at him across the table without moving your head very much.

“But your food is going to get cold.” He urged as you took on the second strip.

“We’ll call it practice for being a real mom one day. Cold food, cold coffee, hot ice cream.”

“Ew! Hot ice cream!” Lori laughed as you pushed her plate back towards her.

You couldn’t help but join in. Her laugh is tinkly like a fairy, contagious.

“Okay, alright, I won’t say anything else.” He raised his hands in surrender before going back to his food.

The rest of the meal went by quietly, ending with you spooning the girls' shared shake into separate cups.

Once dessert was had, it was bath time, resulting in your cheer camp t-shirt getting soaking wet.

“I am so sorry. Let me get you a shirt.” Gareth was red from embarrassment.

You, however, were still smiling. “Okay, Gare. I’ll get them dried off and changed, then I’ll come find you about the shirt.”

He nodded and left the bathroom.

“Are you my brother’s girlfriend?” Lori asked once she was sure Gareth was gone.

You giggled a bit and shook your head as you pulled her nightgown over her head. “No, baby doll, I’m not. We go to school together. He’s my friend.”

She nodded and her face twisted in thought. “Will you be his girlfriend?”

You gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I hope so one day.” You winked at her before turning to help Clara into her nightgown. “Why don’t you girls go down stairs to the couch while I go find Gareth and change, hm?”

Lori nodded and took Clara’s hand to lead her away.

You sighed and pushed yourself from the floor.

It didn’t take much to figure out which door belonged to Gareth. He had various band stickers and drawings on the door. You knocked twice.

“Come in!” He called as he snagged his favorite Motley Crue shirt from the hanger. It may or may not have been for a fantasy he had not too long ago.

You opened the door and stepped in. “Hey, I sent the girls downstairs to get settled. Just came to grab the shirt. It’s starting to get a little chilly.” You chuckled at the end, leaning against the wall.

“Okay, great. Um, you can change here if you want. I can go get the movie ready.”

You nodded and stepped further into the room. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll be down in just a second.” You said taking the worn material from his hands. Once the door clicked closed you pulled your shirt over your head and unhooked your bra which was soaked through. You hoped the shirt would be big enough that the lack of bra wouldn’t be noticeable. What you didn’t think about though, was leaving the pile of damp clothes at the foot of the bed before walking out of the room and down stairs.

“Can I sit with you!” Lori yelled as she saw you finally descend the stairs.

“Of course, baby doll.” You smiled, glancing over at Gareth who managed to go a deep shade of red.

Maybe putting you into that shirt was one of his less than stellar ideas. His mind wandered back to the dream he had the other night of you, in the shirt, on top of him- He stopped his thoughts immediately before they became too much.

You settled next to him and let Lori climb into your lap as Gareth hit play on the Care Bears movie. You ran your fingers through the six year olds hair, eventually braiding it into a nice french braid before she fell asleep. You looked over to Clara who was dead asleep in Gareth’s lap.

He looked over at you and then up the stairs. “They won’t wake. They sleep pretty hard. Wanna take them up and get started?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You smiled as you got a better grip on Lori. You followed Gareth up the stairs and pushed open Lori’s bedroom door. You laid her down gently in her princess bed sheets and covered her up before heading back to the hall to meet Gareth.

“You’re really good with them, you know.” He said, leading you back down the stairs and turning the light on.

“If I don’t go into art, I want to teach little ones.” You said, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“You could be the art teacher for the little ones.” Gareth offered. “Best of both worlds.”

“You’re so smart, you know that? That never crossed my mind.” You laughed a little, not believing you’d not thought of it before.

Gareth smiles as he bumped your shoulder. “Thanks. And when you do become an art teacher for little ones, make sure you credit me.” He winked before sitting on the floor at the coffee table.

You sat across from him, rolling your eyes at his joke. “I’ll put your name on the degree.” You said sarcastically as you pulled the questionnaire sheet from the spiral notebook.

Both of you took a second to look over the sheet before you spoke again.

“These are bullshit questions.” You said passively as you looked up from the bullet point asking ‘What is your partner’s favorite color.’

“Why do you say that?” He asked, putting his sheet down on the table.

You sighed and tapped your pen on your lip and you thought. “If I’m supposed to make an art piece based on you, what good is knowing your favorite food and color? I mean do I just draw a red cheeseburger? It’s so basic. Art is supposed to make you think. Make you feel something.” You emphasized before laying back on the floor.

Gareth laughed and scooted around to your side of the table to lay next to you. “You have a point, but how do you know my favorite color is red? I never told you.”

You turned your head to look at him rather than the ceiling. “I’ve lived 50 yards from you my whole life, we went to the same daycare, elementary, middle, and high school. Red is one of the few colors in your color palette. People don’t wear colors they don’t like.” You studied his face, taking in every freckle, every developing laugh line, every shade of blue and green in his eyes for the hundredth time, only this time you were much closer. It had much more of an effect on you.

“You’re very observant, you know.” His mouth ticked up into a lopsided smile as his eyes darted around your face.

“Which is you telling me that I’m right.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He laughed this time, making you smile. “You’re not as oblivious as you present yourself as. Why do you do that?” His brows furrowed as he questioned you.

You shrugged, debating your answer for a moment. “I do what I have to in order to make it where I want to go. You present yourself as a dark, twisty guy who doesn’t care about anything, yet you’ve got smile lines and you’re amazingly sweet with your sisters. Why do you do that?” You challenged with a playful smile.

“Self preservation. I’m a weird kid and if I come off as someone who’s easy to mess with, life would be a whole lot worse. So I keep myself far away from the people who don’t deserve to know me.” He explained, his eyes holding a look that you couldn’t quite place.

Before you could stop yourself you asked, “Do I deserve to know you?”

His eyes that held your gaze flickered down to your lips and back up. “Yeah. Do I deserve to know you?”

You nodded, unable to resist the urge to reach over and rest your hand on the side of his face.

The moment was quiet, intimate, and gone far too quickly as his mom and stepdad came into the house.

“Gareth, whose car is in the drive-“ his mothers voice cut off as she walked in on the innocent scene because she could feel the tension between her son and the girl laying on the floor.

You snatched your hand away quickly and looked at the woman in the doorway, praying she wouldn’t berate you for being there.

“Mom. Hey. I told you Y/N was coming by for the art project.” He was red, not from a blush but from panic. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears so loud he thought it must have been audible.

She nodded and smirked. “Alright, well, carry on then.” She turned and walked into the kitchen where her husband was digging around in the pantry. “They’re going to get married. I’m calling it now.”

“Gwen, you can’t be serious. You haven’t even spoken to the girl.” He turned to look at her before glancing through the doorway to see the girl in question gathering her things.

“A mother knows.” She patted his chest and gave him the look. The look that said you-know-I’m-right.

Gareth walked with you out the door and to your car. “I’ll see you on Monday. Be careful.” He opened your door for you and watched you get in.

“If I wreck going three houses down the street, I probably don’t need a license.” You joked as you looked up at him, taking in the way the moonlight bounced off of the high points of his face.

“Be careful.” His tone was a bit more authoritative than before, making your insides turn.

“I will be.” You promised before smirking. “Do you want me to call you when I get there so you know I got in okay?” You teased lightly, making him roll his eyes.

“Just for that, I sure do. If my phone’s not ringing in 5 minutes I’m coming down there.” He was smiling, laughing at the way you scrunched up your nose at him before sticking your tongue out.

“Maybe I won’t call then.”

“Are you testing me?”

“I guess you’ll find out.”

“I guess I will.” He winked and closed the door to your car before walking towards the door. He stood there, watching you back out of the driveway thinking about how easy it was with you. It was easy to be himself. He finally went inside to wait for your call.

[httpsdana]

hello, could you do prompt 118 with João Félix. I had an idea that it might be like they were fighting over a match. Thanksssss ❤️

Another Loss~João Félix

I literally waited for the champions league match to write this cuz I knew Chelsea would lose 💀

anyways keep sending in your requests <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

118-"fucking hell, shut your mouth." "make me."

y/n's shoulders slumped as João was subbed off. It was the champions league first leg against Real Madrid and they were already a goal ahead.

João was stressing out all week, training more for this match. He knew how important this match was for Chelsea. Especially since they haven't won any of their last matches in the premier league.

João was frustrated when he was subbed off. It was obvious that he was the only player trying to score. y/n took mental notes to make him feel better after the match. Whenever he had a bad match, she'd make him his favorite dish with some ice cream afterwards.

The match ended with 2-0 to Real Madrid. It was hard for Chelsea to come back, but y/n knew the boys would try their best to win the second leg.

y/n walked from her seat towards the lockers. The Real Madrid locker rooms had a lot of shouting and cheering. She let out a sigh and waited outside Chelsea's lockers.

Players started to slowly walk out, one by one. y/n still wasn't close with any of his teammates, except for Kai. As Kai walked out, he spotted y/n and walked to her.

She smiled sympathetically at him, giving him a small hug.

"how are you doing?" she asked, rubbing his shoulder softly.

He shrugged letting out a sigh before giving her a small sigh

"could've been better, but what can I say, they were too strong" he said, while she nodded at him.

She gave him one last hug, before he walked away and João walked out of the locker room

"hey amor" she said, smiling at him as he walked closer to her

He gave her a small smile, that was obviously fake, before starting to walk away. She realized that he was in a bad mood, and ran to catch up with him

The car ride home was tense. The tension was felt by y/n. She knew if João didn't say anything they were definitely gonna fight, and she didn't want that. So she decided to give him some time alone.

As soon as y/n parked her car in their parking lot, João got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. y/n let out a sigh and got out of the car too, following João into their apartment.

João dumped his training bag at the entrance of the house, and walked into the living room.

y/n went to the kitchen and started preparing João's favorite food. She left him alone, hoping that he would calm down a bit.

After about two hours of making food, y/n went to the living room, and saw João sat on the couch on his phone, with a blank look on his face

"hey J. I made you some food" she said softly, sitting down next to him.

"I'm not hungry" he said grumpily, not looking up from his phone.

"come on João. you didn't eat anything before the match, and you played more than 60 minutes. you should eat something" she insisted making him roll his eyes

"I said I'm not hungry. leave me alone" he raised his voice a bit making her also roll his eyes

She snatched the phone out of his hands and put it behind her back. His eyes snapped into hers, filled with rage and anger

"give me my phone" he said through gritted teeth, not wanting to lash out on her

"No! I know you didn't have a good match. And I know you didn't want to be subbed off when you were the only player giving effort, but that doesn't mean you get to release your anger on m-" she was interrupted by his voice

"fucking hell, shut your mouth." he snapped

"make me." she snapped back, making his eyes snap into hers

He shook his head and turned away.

Her eyes softened while she moved closer to him. She put her hand in his hair, scratching his scalp slightly

"I'm sorry amor. I just want you to talk to me when you're having a bad day, or after you have a bad match" she said softly, her voice sweet as it always was

He look up at her and cracked a small smile

"And I'm sorry minha vida. I shouldn't have snapped on you. Its just so frustrating how no one seemed to care about the match. I mean I know we don't stand a chance against Real Madrid, but trying won't hurt. I have been in the team for almost 4 months and I seem to care more than people who have been there all their life. I'm just so confused" he let out a sigh, laying his head on her shoulder

"its okay sweetheart. it'll get better soon I promise. you're still young and have all your life ahead. Maybe Chelsea isn't where you're going to stay for a long time. Or maybe the team is only passing through a rough time now and will be back soon. Just know that I'm proud of whatever you do. Whether you lose or win, I'm always proud. I love you João. don't forget that" she said, turning his head so he was looking at her

He smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her. When they pulled away, he laid his forehead on hers

"I love you more baby. Thank you for being there"

[dorizardthewizard]

HSM (2006) rewatch pt 11

11. When there was me and you

Time for the first of the sad Gabriella ballads!

This part with her dramatically swaying on the barrier is so iconic. She’s just as dramatic as Troy they’re perfect for each other, in fact I wish they cranked it up a bit because she really is just walking through the corridors - they could have at least had her go on the rooftop for a brood or something. That backlit shot is beautiful though!

Anyway A tier? But could drop to B just because the staging isn't that inspired, I like the song though damn can she belt those notes! Actually is this the only song where they sing straight at the camera?

Ok so as much as I wish the communication was better (I mean she could have at least said “hey I heard what you said to your team and that you’re done with the callbacks”), she does handle it pretty maturely. Although she’s clearly upset with that “Go Wildcats” comment, she’s understanding of the pressures on him and how hard it is to stray away from the social hierarchy. She doesn’t just immediately give him the silent treatment, she tries to make it sound like there are no hard feelings.

I just imagined Kelsi's reaction if Gabriella went to tell her they're not doing the auditions 😭😭😭

Hey Captain! :D Here’s your basketball captain! :D We’re gonna be BFFs again! :D Everything will be just like before :D

No but the way he's soooo excited to see Troy and bounds over to him just to get rejected sdfhkjdsfkj "don't worry about it" you sure Chad?

Troy mucking up all his basketball shots as he angsts away is so funny to me. Zac Efron was born to play this kid

And what do you know! If you force your friend to give up something that’s important to him he will be upset and his head won’t be in the game! Shocker!

Taylor and Chad realise they’ve fucked up – what did you think would happen? Okay to be fair, and I just want to put some perspective on this, the whole story takes place over like... 2 weeks? Chad would have had exactly no idea that Troy enjoyed singing, from his POV Troy really was all about basketball and the team, but suddenly a new girl turns up and he auditions for the musical out of the blue? Even Ms Darbus found it hard to believe he was being genuine, from his friends' perspective it looks like he was only doing this because he had a crush on a girl he met like 2 days ago. I can see how they'd think this was unserious behaviour given their tournament coming up.

I mean sure Troy does try to broach the subject with Chad before Getcha Head in the Game, but very tentatively. I'm not saying things would have gone fine if he'd just come out with it earlier like Zeke did with his baking hobby (judging by everyone's reaction to Zeke anyway), but here Taylor and Chad regret their actions as soon as they realise how upset Troy and Gabriella are. It seems like they genuinely did not expect that this would mean so much to them.

I'm actually gonna plug a fic here that explores this part of the movie from Chad's perspective and has a really good interaction between him and Gabriella. It's called Explanation, Elaboration on AO3 go read it it's really good and a nice little character study

I love how Troy’s friends find him on the rooftop so easily, he really thought this place was secret. Two options: They apologised to Gabriella first and she told them where Troy could be, or they just knew this whole time that he likes to go there to brood and they just let him

Troy eats a sandwich with nothing in it

Chad: We just want you to know that we're gonna be there. Okay? Cheering for you. Zeke: Yeah, if singing is something you wanna do, we should be boosting you up, not tearing you down. Chad: Yeah. I mean, win or lose, we're teammates.

This is so sweet it’s sad we have to follow it up with them admitting their part in all this :(((

Troy: And you're not gonna hear me sing, guys. Troy: Because Gabriella won't even talk to me. And I don't know why.

Stoooop why is this actually sad, the people who can hurt you the most really are those closest to you huh

Oh Luke Skywalker! That’s who he reminds me of in this movie. Sorry just hit me

Chad’s tee says laughing on the……. inside? Sir you don't strike me as someone who would hide their laughter

The orange-pink combo for Jason's outfit is... interesting

Zeke’s cookies fskjsjfdssmf did they actually sit there awkwardly as Troy ate them before the big reveal? This does show they’re cool with his baking thing now at least

Gabriella's fit is really cute but omg Taylor’s scarf is not it…. this just made me remember when skinny scarves were like A Thing, I had one just like hers but black and navy

Love how Taylor has the only speaking role in this geek group. It’s kind of funny that in the next movies, they’re just no longer part of this friendship group because they’re a bunch of extras LOL. She makes a really good speech though, even if Gabriella doesn't listen :(

Gabriella is lowkey right about no one forcing Troy to say anything, he didn’t have to go that far to get them off his back

[bookshelf-dust]

imsosorry i'm about to request again (just tell me to stop if they get too much)

could you write a fic with Gareth where reader is usually very talkative and cheerful but someone shouted at them about it being annoying, and now they keep sentences to a minimum, so Gareth tries to find out what happened? and maybe gets angry at the person for shouting at them? this time I may have done it a little bit too precise, sorry

(again, sorry for requesting so much, it's just that you write them so !!! undescribable. beautiful. gorgeous. CHEFS KISS. and you're so FAST AT WRITING THEM?? amazing)

going quiet.

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 1,610

warnings: swearing, bullying, andy, gareth gets angry, fluff/comfort

a/n: hii!!! do not apologize for requesting! it makes me feel loved and i’m so so happy that you like the way i write him and that you trust me with your ideas! and your idea is indeed perfect. seriously don’t apologize. i love it when you request things and i appreciate it. also it’s easy to write these when you’re so sweet. and i hope this doesn’t suck. <333 (also i will use any chance i can get to bully jason’s goons).

————

“Well, I like The Breakfast Club a lot, actually. I just hate the ending because of Allison’s makeover. It pisses me off that Andrew didn’t have eyes for her until she looked like every other girl in sch—”

“It seems that everything pisses you off, huh?”

You’d been talking to Nancy, but that wasn’t who was speaking to you now.

You turned your head, fingers gripping the edge of your open locker door. Andy was looking at you, hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket, a sick smile on his face.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re just really fucking annoying.”

Andy’s voice made your stomach drop. You’d been just fine, talking to Nancy, some mindless conversation about movies because she’d had a similar talk with Robin over the weekend—who shared your opinions on Allison and Andrew.

But now it was like someone had opened a window when it was much too cold to do so, a rush of cool air sending a chill down your spine.

Andy seemed to have a way of doing that.

“You know, my locker is just down there,” he pointed, “and everyday I hear you blabbing about whatever shit you seem to think is important. Frankly, I’m just sick of hearing your voice. The world would benefit from you shutting the fuck up, I think.”

Your hands were shaking now. “What the hell, Andy? Why are you being such an asshole?” Nancy raised her voice, trying to confront the boy, but he just tossed his head back in glee, and walked off.

You always told yourself that you could stand up for yourself in a situation like this. You could do it easily anytime someone said something to Gareth or one of the kids, but his comment had come out of nowhere, and you’d been too shocked to fight back.

It had been the way he said it really, the way he looked at you. Like you were a nuisance, and it hurt your feelings.

He’d targeted one of the main things you were comfortable with—talking to people you cared for about things you loved. You’d been around people who let you be yourself for some time, so being told that your passion and cheerfulness was annoying was the worst thing he could’ve chosen to pick on.

Deep down, and in every vein, it hurt.

“You okay, Y/N? Really you can’t listen—”

You raised your hand, cutting her off. “I’m fine, Nance.”

And then you were off, hoping that the way you could feel your eyes glazing over wasn’t obvious to any onlookers.

Nancy didn’t see you again until lunch, but she was sat with Robin and some of the school newspaper kids, you with the Hellfire Club. She tried to see if you were okay just by looking at you, hoping that you hadn’t let Andy’s comment hurt you, but the bounce of your leg under the table told her otherwise.

“Did you finish your book last night?” Eddie was looking at you, shoveling pretzels in his mouth, eyebrows raised while waiting for your response.

You felt Gareth bump your leg with his knee, knowing you would be excited to talk about your book if you had indeed finished it. Yesterday you’d been very close, with only a couple chapters left.

“Yeah,” you said, finishing the rest of your drink and trying to avoid eye contact with Eddie, which he had did not like.

“How was it?” He inquired.

“Fine.”

“That’s it? We don’t get to hear about the ending? The grand reveal?” Eddie wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, sitting up at your vagueness.

“Nothing to tell. It was fine.”

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Gareth grabbed your hand under the table, and you fought the urge to pull away from him.

“I’m—”

“If you say fine, I’m going to scream,” Eddie declared.

“I’m okay,” you finished instead, looking back and forth between them both.

Eddie rolled his eyes, though he wouldn’t argue because you had come up with another response.

Gareth looked over your face like he was searching for something. “Gareth, please.”

He knew that tone. It either meant, I’m fine—really—or it meant I don’t want to do this right now. Either way, he dropped it.

In class that afternoon you worked silently beside him, even though you were supposed to be working with him on a project. When he asked you questions you gave one worded responses or simply nodded or shook your head.

That night he called you after dinner like he always did. For a minute he was worried you wouldn’t even pick up, the phone having rung for so long, but you did.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

“Fine, Gareth.”

You could hear him sigh loudly on his end, even though it was clear he’d pulled away to try and not make it so obvious that he was concerned and a little stressed out about your behavior.

“The twins want you to come for dinner this weekend.”

“That’s nice.”

“Is that okay? Not too busy?”

“That’s okay.”

The entire conversation you were soft spoken. It was practically killing the boy. You were never this quiet, in tone of voice or in the amount you had to say. You always liked to talk about everything and nothing with Gareth and with Eddie, or Dustin or Lucas.

You were an excited person. You liked to geek out about something or listen to someone else do the same.

And you weren’t doing that.

Something was wrong. Gareth was sure of it. He just had to figure out what.

————

“Did something happen? Something that I don’t know about?”

Gareth tracked down Nancy the next day, even if that meant he was now standing awkwardly in the corner of the school paper’s preparation room.

He crossed his arms, feeling increasingly nervous.

“They’re not talking are they?”

“No. Nancy, come on. What the hell happened?”

She exhaled. “Andy made an appearance yesterday morning. Decided he’d be a prick and told them they were,” she lifted her hands to use air quotes, “‘Really fucking annoying.’ Then he went on about how they never shut up and that the world would in fact benefit from them doing so.”

Gareth ran a hand down his face.

“I told them not to let it affect them,” Nancy continued, “but I think this one was a little too close to home, you know?”

Gareth nodded, suddenly feeling very angry.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’ll figure this out. Thanks, Wheeler.”

————

Luckily for Gareth, he ran—literally—into Andy right after his chat with Nancy. It was lunch, which is why he’d come looking for answers because you were nowhere to be found.

“Watch it, freak.”

“Why don’t you, asshat?”

“Excuse me?” Andy turned on the other boy, brow furrowing, chest puffing out like he was trying to show off.

Gareth was fired up. He never fought. At least he hadn’t since middle school.

He had sisters to be a good example for, and he really didn’t want to be trouble for them—or his mom. He also really didn’t like split knuckles.

But right now, he was astronomically pissed.

Gareth grabbed hold of Andy’s collar, yanking him close.

“Why’ve you got to be such a fucking asshole all the time huh? Because let me tell you, nobody needs to hear your opinions or your bullshit outlook on the world.”

“What the hell is your problem, man?” Andy’s voice cracked, as he was clearly not expecting Gareth to have confronted him like this. Not when the latter usually just flipped the former off and moved on.

But this was about you this time. Your feelings had gotten hurt. And Gareth couldn’t protect himself from these things, but he could protect you.

“You’re an asshole, that’s my problem.”

Gareth let Andy go, shoving him back much more gently than he’d been holding the boy.

Little did he know, you were propped up against the wall across the way, watching this little interaction from afar.

“Jesus man, shit,” Andy said, rubbing at his collarbones.

“Just fucking stop this shit, yeah? I don’t care about whatever dumbass reason you’ve got for taking your feelings out on people, but just leave my friends out of it.”

Gareth shook his hands out, and the gesture seemed to frighten Andy, who hadn’t realized he was that strong before this moment.

“Yeah, whatever man.”

And then he was gone.

Gareth ran his hands down his face, and you took that as your queue to approach him. You reached up, carefully grabbing his wrists and wrapping your fingers around them.

Gareth jumped. “Damn! You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” You planted a kiss on his cheek, and he went bright red.

“I take it you figured it out?” His brow furrowed at your question. “I was watching,” you clarified.

“Oh. Oh. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Gareth, you don’t have to apologize. I appreciate you sticking up for me. I should’ve done it myself, and come to you, but he just—”

“He hurt your feelings?” You nodded. “I know. Sometimes certain things just hit wrong, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed your face in both hands and kissed the top of your head.

“Hopefully he fucks off. But either way, I want you to know that I love hearing you talk. I love it when you get excited and you get loud and you share all the little things that make you feel that way, okay? I don’t want you to change or shut down because of someone. Especially Andy.”

That got a laugh out of you, and Gareth thought that sound could’ve cured everything wrong with the world.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[vole-mon-amour]

3x12, Jamie edition, part 4.

Jamie is basically ruling this game at this point. My wonderful, wonderful boy. All this training. All that development through the seasons. I am so fucking proud of him.

You know what this reminds me of? "Hey Jamie! JAMIE! 🖕"

It was what, 1x022? 1x03? When Ted wanted Jamie to be like this and Jamie was like, "Is this a fucking joke? But no one is laughing. I'm not fucking doing this." And now? NOW??? LOOK AT HIM GO!!!!

They fit sooo many callbacks into this ep. I love it.

Jamie in the center of attention again. Jamie celebrating with Sam and the entire team cheering them on. Beard running towards them. I want to grab them all in one huge hug.

Just what, a day or two ago a was begging for them to win, in a post about how important it is for me for Jamie to score? They did it. They fucking did it. ;_; I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

Ted celebrating with his previous team. Ted celebrating with this team. And look at Jamie. My boy.

Guys. How am I supposed to just let this show go? The thing that Jason created... Tears, just tears. The only piece of media that I was able to consume in 2021 and that got me through that year after my parents died. My goodness, it's everything.

He. Him. I'm gonna ignore the circumstances bc fuck that. Jamie deserves better.

But while I'm at it, Jamie needs therapy just as much as Roy. With his depression and PTSD it would only be right. Jamie probably needs meds, too. I want him to get better (and remove his abuser from him! Who fucking thought this was a good idea? Who thought to "forgive your abuser" is the right thing to do? I have questions to the writing room.)

Knee to knee, kiss already. I can feel so much Brett in this Roy, but I'm glad the boys are having fun together and seem to genuinely be very good friends.

Ooh, you make me live Whatever this world can give to me It's you, you're all I see Ooh, you make me live now, honey

That kind of thing. :) Now I can make edits, hehe.

Jamie being good friends with Rebecca? Are you kidding me? This is perfect. The height difference so that he has to tip toe :')

Also, Keeley in sneakers instead of high heels is such a wonderful development. Hell yeah, babe! Let your feet rest!

Roy was turning so for a second I thought he was going to join the hug and hug Jamie from behind. *deep sigh* Almost a kiss this season, almost a romantic hug. If only.

Soft boy. :') Such uncharacteristic, unusual look but yeah :')

So you can canonize this but not RJ and/or RJK? Really? Where did all the talk about Roy and Jamie being the best couple of the show go? Phil? Phil, I have questions.

But hey, for better or for worse, by weird feeling of Roy, Jamie, and Keeley all staying single seems to be working? Sure, they showed them all together, we can take it any way we like it. But I definitely see it more like Roy x Jamie at best and Keeley is focusing on her work. Roy and Jamie are sitting next to each other, very, VERY close & Keeley is a bit away from them. Hugging Phoebe :') She still loves that girl, obviously.

Lots to process, but if it IS the end of the show, I can basically make anything I want out of this. Which is still better than what they could've done, for which I'm still a tiny bit grateful. Didn't ruin it completely and thanks for that.

This isn't final thoughts, just some after the first watch. Gotta think on it and sleep on it and live for like a week on it.

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

Spelling Video

Context: I love the spelling bee videos, but I always feel s bad because Chris and Matt seem genuinely upset and disappointed with themselves that they didn't get the word right at times. So, basically here's this. I'm going to write a Matt version in a little bit.

Summary: Chris is upset that he struggles with spelling so much. His partner is always there to cheer him up though.

Chris Sturniolo x reader

TW: self-hate/negative self-talk

*important note: Matt calls his gf 'cat/kitty' in this as a nickname. I hate y/n but I didn't want to use an actual name for the immersion. the gf's friend is refered to with bear, also a nickname. sorry if this is confusing :')*

"Chris, it's not that big of a fucking deal." Nick says, his voice coming off a bit harsher than what I know he meant.

"You don't get it! You're so good at spelling! It's just embarrassing when I try to do it." I let out a huff of a breath. I cross my arms.

"You're not great at spelling, so what? I get words wrong too, and so does Matt. You don't hear him complaining." Nick stops. "If you really don't want us to post the video, then we won't. We'll have to film something else though, and I can tell you're tired. The fans like these videos, but it's up to you." He puts a hand on my shoulder. He's right. I am tired. I really don't want to film anything else tonight.

"Fine." I give in. "I guess it's fine if we post the video."

"I'll edit out some of the really bad spelling errors." Nick says. I know he's trying to cheer me up, but it does next to nothing. I nod to let him know I heard him.

"Let's go watch something downstairs while Nick edits. Okay?" Matt slides his phone into his pocket. He was probably texting his girlfriend about the words he spelled right even though they were really hard. I agree and we head down to the living room.

Matt clicks on Spongebob, then switches it to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I know he's trying to cheer me up, and while it is hard to be sullen when that absolute banger of a theme song is playing, it doesn't make the bad feeling in my stomach go away. It's only pushed to the back of my mind.

I get closer to Matt, snuggling up against his side. We get through a couple episodes before he pauses it. "Why'd you stop it?" I frown.

"I asked a couple people to come over. They'll be here in a few. Are you sure you want to be snuggled up to me like this when they get here?"

"Huh? All our friends know that we're close like this? I don't see why it would make a big difference." Matt pauses before he responds to me.

"I invited my girlfriend over." I wait for him to continue. "And her friend." I continue waiting because I'm still not seeing the big deal here. Matt sighs. "The one that always teases you about everything." Also the one I have feelings for. I don't want her to see me like this.

"No. Why would you invite her? Seriously, Matt." My voice comes out all whiny and I turn away from him. He wraps an arm around me, looping under my arms; preventing me from moving away further.

"I was telling cat about the stupid spelling thing and she asked if her coming over would make me feel better and I said yes. She asked how you were doing and I told her you were upset. She said she had an idea but needed bear to come with for it to work." He pulls me against his side again in a sort of hug. "Just trust us, okay?"

"Fine. But if she makes it worse, you owe me McDonald's."

"Whatever you say, Chrissy." He gives me one last squeeze and removes his arm, but I don't move away from him.

"I'm not going to move." I say, crossing my arms.

"That's fine, I'll tell cat to let herself in." I nod, and we go back to watching the now unpaused episode. I guess I must have nodded off for a little while. Matt's girlfriend is here, sitting on his other side and the turtles have been replaced with Drake and Josh.

"Hey, why'd you turn off the turtles?" My voice is rough and my words are slurred together. I rub my eyes, trying to wake up the rest of the way.

"I told you not to turn them off. I told you two the second you turned them off he would wake up, didn't I?" Cat's friend says. She's sitting with my legs over her lap. "You woke up the baby."

I pull my legs away from her. "It's fine. I needed to get up anyway." I say defensively.

"Dude." Cat hisses at her friend.

"Shit. Chris that came out wrong. I'm sorry." Oh. Well, that's never happened before. Strange.

"It...it's okay." I stretch my legs back out, but don't put them over her lap.

"The new video is up." Matt tells me, poking my shoulder.

"Can we watch it?" Cat's friend, Bear asks. She's pretty and mean to me. Absolutely not.

"No." I deny her. Cat already has the remote though and is pulling it up on the TV. I look at Matt. He asked me to trust them. "Fine. I don't care." We start watching the video. I'm tripping over words and single letters. It's so fuckin embarrassing.

Finally, in the video, after like five minutes, I get one easy ass word right. "Chris! That was so good!" Bear says from near my feet, moving closer to me.

"No, it fucking wasn't." I'm not going to let her just lie to my face.

"Yes, it was. You did your best. Looked really cute doing it too." She grins at me. My face gets hot. Matt and Cat get up.

"We're going to go get something to drink." It's just me and Bear. Matt said to trust them. I'm okay. It's okay. I sit up in Matt's absence, facing Bear.

"I'm serious, you know. I think you did really good." She gets closer. "You can ask me to spell words, if it would make you feel better." I shake my head. "C'mon, ask me to spell something."

"Fine. Spell..." I think for a second. "Fuchsia." Her face scrunches up.

"Hmmm, fuchsia...I think it's like y-o-u-r-f-a-c-e. Is that correct?" My face gets hotter.

"Uh...not even close." What is she doing?

"Oh. How do you spell it then?"

"Um, f-u-c-h-s-i-a? I think. Something like that."

"Good job, Chris. You're so fucking smart." She reaches out, touching her hand to my face. "So handsome too." Suddenly, she lurches forward and kisses my nose. "Sorry. I had to. I've wanted to do that since we met."

"Uh, it's okay Bear-" I yawn. "Sorry, I'm still tired."

"It's okay. You can take another nap on my lap if you want." I must be really tired because I move my head to rest in her lap.

"Why'd you call me the baby earlier?" I blurt out.

"Honestly? That's just how I view you. You're the youngest and you're goofy and pretty needy at times. Mostly though, I'd like to be able to call you baby, or my baby. So, I said the baby instead."

"Oh." I bury my face against her stomach. "I think I'd like that." I let out another yawn.

She pushes my hair out of my face. "Just go to sleep baby." Matt was right. This is helping. "I'll be here when you wake up. Just relax and sleep, my baby." She coos a little bit and I am dragged into the darkness of sleep.

[armpirate]

UNDER YOUR SKIN || JJK || Ch. 35

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), unportected sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Ever since he came back to our table, he's been quiet and serious. Black and white. That cute smiley and touchy boy I came in with, seems to have gotten lost among Jungkook's serious and distant personality at some point of the night.

I try to cheer him up a few times, but I only get him to smile for a short second because he goes back to his straight face. I pinch the reverse of his hand, I try to get him to talk, I even more my chair closer to him... for nothing, Because his attitude remains the same.

—I'm just a bit tired —he finally says, after I've asked him five times.

—Do you want to leave and get some rest? —I suggest, resting my chin on his shoulder—. I've already finished mine. And I'm sure it won't be a good idea for me to get another one.

When he turns his head to lay his dark eyes on me, I finally get a genuine smile as he nods. Moving away from him after finally getting a reaction, I stand up, placing all my clothes in the right place.

—Tae isn't here today? —I frown, trying to find him among the customers.

—No, he didn't feel well. So Brooke is in charge of the place.

—I hope he feels better soon —I mutter as we head outside—. Tell him that if he needs something...

—I will —he cuts me up.

I knew there was something wrong when he came back to our table with that serious aura, but I shrugged it off after he said it was just because he was tired. But after this, and how stiff he drives all the way back to my house, I know there's something else behind that attitude.

I hop off his motorbike, thinking he'd stop the engine and go up to my place as he usually does, but the roar of the engine keeps filling the silence in my street.

—You aren't sleeping here? —I frown at him, confused.

—I'd rather go to my place tonight.

The same man who kept throwing tantrums because I wouldn't let him sleep in my bed just two weeks ago?

—Cut the shit, Jungkook —I cross my arms over my chest—. What's wrong?

—I told you I'm tired.

—And I'm not buying it —I tilt my head to look at him better—. You were fine tonight, and out of nowhere you started acting like...

—Like what?

—Like an ass —I rush to answer—. If you were tired, you could've told me. And we would've gone straight to my house or your place.

—If my attitude bothered you so much, you could've called Jin so he could keep you better company.

I scoff, placing my hands on my hips as I look away trying to process what he's just said. It's not the jealous act he's trying to pull, or how he got annoyed about it without even talking to me, but the distant attitude and the childish response that I have no idea where it's coming from at all.

—Why are you bringing up Jin?

—You tell me —he finally turns off the engine—. Why did I have to learn from someone else that you and Jin went out for drinks, and were all over each other?

—All over each other? You have to be kidding me.

I look at him, both hands hanging on my hips as I try to process what he just said.

—He's my fucking boss. He invited me for drinks, because he couldn't do it on my first day —I try to explain to him—. He knows we're seeing each other. For fucks sake, the day after, you came to pick me up and he saw us being all over each other.

—And that's why you didn't tell me? —he scoffs, throwing his head back— You told me you'd get home late, and that's why I didn't go to pick you up.

—I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was important —I squint my eyes at him—. I went for a drink with my boss. He himself made things clear when I asked him, so I don't know where this is coming from.

He doesn't say a thing, but I can tell he's pissed by the way his tongue moves all over his lip ring constantly.

—It's unbelievable you're the one trying to be offended over me hiding things though —I continue—. Maybe you're being an asshole because Jimin can't tell you what to do right now. Right? —I cross my arms over my chest— Maybe he'd tell you to man up and bring some sense to that tiny brain of yours.

His expression softens after I say that, being totally aware that Jimin let me know about that rule in our deal Jungkook basically imposed weeks ago.

—I've dealt with your big walls constantly, with your stupid ideas, and even how you don't even want to consider us as a couple. And you really think I'd run after someone else after how much it took us to get here? —I hate how my voice trembles—. You could've talked to me about it, because I know you would've gone home without saying a single thing about it if I hadn't insisted. You should discuss everything with me.

It's not how he made a little story in his head, but how he took whatever he was told as a holy word and didn't even think of discussing it with me to clear things up. I respect what we have enough to be messing around with it. And even if I understand where his distrust is coming from, I feel offended about him seeing me that way, and how he managed to have the slight idea of me risking all of this for someone I met just some weeks ago.

—I'm sorry —I hear him saying—. When Brooke told me and showed me the pic, I don't know...

—I don't know either —I cross my arms over my chest—. It wouldn't cross my mind to do something like that to you. 

—I'm sorry —he apologizes again, finally getting off his motorbike to wrap his arms around me.

—If you are sorry, then I really hope you park that damned motorbike and bring your ass up to my place —I cross my arms over my chest while he's still holding me.

—That's it?

—What? —I step back— Were you expecting me to throw a tantrum and go two weeks without talking to you? —I raise my eyebrow— I could do that, but I don't want to. I just need you to understand that I'm only into you. And next time something like this happens, you talk to me first —I'm almost going to start walking, but I stop on my tracks—. I'm not bringing up the whole deal thing because we made up a few days ago, but I hope something like that doesn't ever happen again —I give him a warning look.

I see him pressing his lips while smiling, forming that squared nervous smile that shows off perfectly that mole on his lower lip.

When we get to my place, I can feel he still feels a bit weirded out, and I feel strange as well. But I doubt it's the same kind of weird. His is probably due to how fast the argument was over, while mine is more linked to the sudden need of showing him how into him I am -because clearly, he still doesn't get it.

As he sits on the sofa, I start to think if I should let my feelings take control of my body, or if I should just keep it cool for today.

—I really can't believe you still think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you —I straddle him, both of my legs at each side of his body—. Maybe I should use actions, because words don't stay long enough up here —I rub his temple with my index.

—How will you do that?

My fingertip runs over his skin, digging behind his ear into his hair, as I bend over him to link our lips together. One hand holding his head and playing with his hair, while the other travels down his neck and chest, feeling his heartbeat rushing every time I suck onto his lower lip. And it's like he doesn't want to waste any time, because he sinks his tongue in my mouth before I can even trace his lower lip with mine.

Both of his hands keep me tight against him as the kiss gets sloppy and just a mess of tongues twirling and spit exchange, with naughty sounds that seem to be enough to get both of us started. I lower my hips, feeling his semi hard bulge hit against my core. And that only encourages him to unzip my mom jeans, dragging his hands under them just so he can grab directly my flesh, sinking his fingers onto it as if he were trying to mark me.

I bite his lip before I break the kiss, pulling it in between my teeth with my eyes fixed on his. Jungkook moves his hands back to my back, holding me tight, but not as tight as he was just a few seconds ago. It's like he's read what I want to do in my eyes.

I kneel slowly in between his legs, moving my hands over his thighs until I almost reach the noticeable bulge under his pants. He lets out a heavy breath, and I can feel the muscles on his thighs tense when I get closer to where he needs me the most right now. I unzip his pants. And while he moves his hands nervously in the air -eager to be in control of the pace of the situation, but at the same time trying to let me do my thing-, I finally take them off, along with his boxers. His hard cock jumps free as soon as I slid the fabric down.

I lick his shaft, from the base to the tip, and he only sighs as he feels my tongue tracing one of his marked veins until I reach his most sensitive part. My fingers wrap around it, letting my tongue tease him. I move it in circles around the tip, getting a taste of the salty liquid that leaks from the tip.

He moves my hair away, getting a perfect image of my face, before some locks fall back on my face when he lowers his hand to rub my cheek with his thumb.

—Suck it, baby —he asks under his breath.

His hand goes back to the back of my head, pulling gently from my hair to put it away from my face.

I wrap my lips around his tip, covering my teeth with them -just like he taught me once-, before I start going down on him. With my eyes closed, I bump my head up and down slowly, getting turned on by his taste, and the sounds he makes. Those low groans just make me want to suck him off even more.

—Keep your eyes on me, babe —he commands with a sweet tone, in the middle of a moan.

Looking at him right now isn't of help right now. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips parted while his jaw is tensed as if he were holding back as much as possible. That combined with the grip that gets tighter as my moves go faster, and his other hand rubbing my arm -that lays on his leg for balance-, I'm sure I'd be able to cum right here and now without even being touched.

I press my thighs together, letting out a drown whimper while I keep sucking him off.

—So fucking good —he moans again—. Sucking it like I taught you, like a good girl.

What he says makes my pussy throb almost instantly, and I can feel my panties being drenched from my own arousal. I move my fingers up and down his shaft, pumping his cock at the same rhythm my mouth does. He throws his head back, whimpering as he thrusts his hips up.

—I'm gonna cum, baby. Stop —he asks me.

Jungkook makes me move back. And I can barely appreciate his glistening cock covered on my spit, before he bends and cups my face with his hands.

—Come here.

While we kiss, he tries to get rid of my clothes. Clumsily taking off my pants and sliding them down my leg along with my panties. His palm covers my wet slit, fingers digging through my folders until I'm finally back straddling him.

He tears my pink blouse apart, while he desperately kisses me, and I'm so focused on him that I don't even care about the sound of the fabric slightly breaking. Neither of us want to waste any time. While he holds himself up, I move my hips down, moaning when I'm finally completely filled by him.

I jump on him slowly at first, getting used to every inch and every vein of his cock, letting him completely, but moving up until the tip is the only part of him inside. That doesn't last long, because I start increasing my speed after the fourth time, encouraged by the sounds of our bodies clapping together and his moans that only keep getting louder.

—You're the only one I want to fuck like this —I moan, holding onto his shoulder and the couch—. Do you understand it like this?

—Fuck, yes —his voice cracks, while his nails dig on the flesh of my ass—. You're only mine.

—Uh-huh.

He pulls me in for a kiss, as he lowers his body on the couch, dragging me along with him. Taking control away from me, he holds my hips up and starts drilling into me in a speed that's making me dizzy. Jungkook lowers the cups of my bra, sucking and biting my hard nipple as he fucks me like he's never done before. I'm unable to hold back my moans, feeling so close.

—I'm close —I warn him, holding onto his wrist.

—Cum with me —he bucks his hips, moving even faster.

My pussy clenches around him tight, when I finally reach my high. I can feel my whole body trembling, although I barely listen to my own moans because of the way my ears are ringing after cumming this way.

His cock twitches inside of me, and soon after he's gone. I feel him explode inside of me, his warm liquid filling me and leaking out. And it's only then I'm aware we haven't used a condom.

—We didn't use protection —I panic, looking down at him.

—It's alright —he moves under me, trying to go back to his initial position—. I'm clean. And we can buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

He kisses me again, slower than the other times. Even if the room only smells like sex right now, he manages to keep it sweet and soft.

✸ ✸ ✸

He falls next to me, giggling and smiling despite being exhausted after the third round. I turn to look at him, his forehead is coated on a thin line of sweat, making some of his locks stick to it. I move them away, unaware that Jungkook would use that to pull me from my wrist and wrap my arm around him to drag me closer to his body.

He doesn't really say anything, but the way he's looking at me, and how that wide smile slowly vanishes away... I expect the worst that could come out of his mouth right now.

—I'm sorry about tonight —he apologizes again—. You didn't deserve to be treated that way in the pub.

—Kook, we already talked it out.

—We didn't. I apologized and you let it go —he puckers his lips before he continues—. I should've thought better of you, but I was so blinded by the idea of you being into someone else... I'm just scared of losing you, losing this, being played with again. I know you wouldn't do that, but I can't help but be prepared for it.

Seeing his eyes watering as he speaks must be the most heartbreaking thing I've ever seen in my life. I play with his hair, trying to comfort him somehow.

—I'm not going anywhere, Kook —I assure him—. Not now, not tomorrow. So get that idea clear in your head.

He's about to speak, but as soon as his lips tremble and he covers half of his face with his hand, I know he won't be able to say anything. We exchange positions again, being back to lying on my back as I wrap my arms tight around him.

—I thought you wanted me to say cute things to you —I tease him.

I feel him giggle on my neck, moving back so he's able to look at me again. I clean some of the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, just for Jungkook to grab my wrist and stop me, making sure my focus is on him and his eyes.

—I think I'm in love with you, cocktease.

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

have you ever actually tried weed? i never have but i'm thinking of building a hydroponics + adjacent setup for me and my mom's favorite foods and the weed guys are impossible to ignore while i'm still learning, since they've been doing this kind of stuff forever. that being said they're weird and annoying, but why do you consider marijuana specifically the worst drug?

i accidentally ate some edibles once. but i've never tried it intentionally. have simply never had the desire to.

hydroponics is based. i've always wanted to try getting into it. occasionally i'll look into people's projects and get ideas but i haven't committed to it yet. i've already got so much on my plate.

but yeah nothing wrong with learning from them. my brother used to grow weed and he honestly taught me a fair bit about gardening in general as a result.

as for why i think marijuana is the worst drug...

well most people rank a drug's "worseness" by how much harm they cause. that is definitely a factor in my own analysis but it's a relatively small one. much more important factors are like...aesthetics, "prestige," "vibes"/instinct, and their effects.

and well, weed just gives me bad vibes and it feels ugly to me. weed smells like shit and stoners smell like shit and they dress and act like shit. just everything i associate with it is shit. the drug just turns people into empty shells. they become soulless (even though they'll insist it makes them more creative). i've seen friends who were once bright-eyed and full of potential turn into lowlife losers after getting addicted to weed. and weed /is/ a gateway drug. no one ever starts out clean and sober and then one day decides to shoot up heroin. weed is how it starts. and so that makes it especially bad in my eyes.

being a sober person and hanging out with people who are high is boring as fuck. that is its greatest crime in my opinion. how boring it makes people. boring, dim, lazy, superficial, etc. and yet it convinces them that it makes them deep and creative and intelligent and shit.

at least when i hang out with drunk people they are more /alive/. people often become /more/ interesting and /more/ fun when they're drunk. or they become sadder or angrier or whatever. but at least they are /something/. i used to hang out with stoners and i have no real memories with them. we'd just sit in their garage all day and talk and listen to music. but when i go out with friends to drink? it's an adventure, man.

weed makes people lifeless. but alcohol at least fills people with life.

and people will say "what about drunk drivers! what about alcoholics!" and yeah that shit sucks -- i've lost people because of alcohol -- but like i said in the beginning the "harm" is a secondary or even tertiary concern for me. i am comfortable with the risk of harm. i think it's a prerequisite for freedom. i care a lot more about all of the other things i mentioned than i care about "harm" by itself.

lol sorry if this is a bit rambling/incoherent but hopefully that gives you the gist of it. i am sipping on some whiskey as i type this out and i'm a bit buzzed.

cheers!

[ryan-shepard-writes]

I posted 1,810 times in 2022

50 posts created (3%)

1,760 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@delusion-of-negation

@athena-anna-rose

@chaos-event-horizon

@scientistservant

@spaghetticordez

I tagged 119 of my posts in 2022

#important - 30 posts

#fate's crystal majesty - 28 posts

#ideas - 14 posts

#writeblr - 11 posts

#discourse - 10 posts

#crowlyn nissad coronis - 9 posts

#ask game - 8 posts

#science fantasy - 6 posts

#mature - 5 posts

#writblr - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#no dude she has no character arc. no emotion. every third interaction she has is her telling people they're worthless while the bus cheers.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

ANNOUNCEMENT:

So... I completely reworked Fate's Crystal Majesty.

After realizing that the first book was long enough to be almost 2 and a half whole novels... I decided to break it into chunks. In doing that, I've changed several parts of the story that many people have already seen.

BUT!

That also means the book is several steps closer to being worthy of possibly getting published!

So. The website has been redesigned and the live chapters have been re-uploaded as google docs rather than site pages. Not only does this make interaction more smooth, it also creates better ease of access. As always, they are completely open for comments and interaction!

A story can't happen without its reader, after all...

12 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

#4

I have no idea about what bigotry/drama/war unfolded while I wasn't looking (my dash is sprinkled with a wide variety of conflicting takes that do absolutely nothing to clarify whatever the heck I missed) but more and more lately I'm thinking that we as a community need to just... Have a fucking meeting. Because there is a LOT of thinly veiled shit that seems to constantly be happening. Everything from people starting drama about writing about ~bad things~ (a gay person having a homophobic villain character in their works and getting attacked for it) to SERIOUS racism (apparently someone said they want to live in a world/write a world with only one race? The fuck?) to cultural appropriation/deeply rooted lack of knowledge about a culture being referenced (saw a writer trying to just... Claim Aphrodite as a 'trans-masc icon' and trying to rename her 'Aphrodito'???) To mountains of mountains of toxic positivity and/or insisting on asanine levels of 'purity' within the work of other people.

Genuinely. We all need to like... Talk.

13 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

#3

Okay so this is very obviously NOT the finished product. Not even a little bit. But I'm writing a prequel bit for Fate's Crystal Majesty for @athena-anna-rose's writing contest. And. I'm having the hardest and funniest fucking time writing an oblivious straight man. I have no experience in this category of Guy so writing this bit is killing my sensibilities but it's already so fucking funny and I wanted to share. Current progress is under the cut. This is turning into a comedy.

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Contest Story: What Once Was

"I've been meaning to say this for a while," said a voice, light and playful like a bell. "...But you really are pretty cute, mister Crown Prince!"

Solaris Trinidad Coronis nearly slammed his book closed, face turning red as his head whipped around. There, standing behind him, was a young mage— a university student that was younger than him, and a familiar one. Her blonde hair and aquamarine eyes would have been a dead giveaway, even if her uniquely folded 'dog' ears didn't signal her identity and status.

"O-oh, you're… Lunari Nitewing, correct? I believe I've seen you around…" He asked, doing his best to ignore her commentary on him. He nearly winced as he glanced at the nearby clock, suddenly noticing the time.

The young half-Rorvan nodded, grinning. "Yes, your highness. But I'm surprised you remembered my name… They say you spend too much time with your head hidden in these books to notice much, and I'll admit, this library is where I usually end up seeing you."

He sniffed, wolf ears giving a disdainful twitch as he collected his studying materials. "Well 'they' don't seem to know the value of being well-read… but at least they're smart enough not to insult me to my face, I guess…" Though… he thought wryly, I'd have to be blind not to notice the most magical young woman on the planet. "...You ought not to listen to gossip, Miss Nitewing. You have a lot of talent. It would be a true shame if you got caught up in a bad crowd."

"I find your studious nature endearing, actually!" The girl giggled. He suddenly realized how petite she was as she sat on the table, her eyes just barely higher than his were. "Makes you seem like a normal person."

"You'll find that I am a normal person, Miss Nitewing," he said, voice even. "I do what I can to make sure that being a prince doesn't get in the way of being a good citizen."

He stood then, gathering his books in his arms, then gave the girl another quick once-over. Sky blue Rorvan-inspired blouse over white pants, dark boots, a charming blue headband to match her top, tasteful floral scented oils along her pulse points… she looked a bit too nice for a trip to the library.

Is she… going out with someone?

He gave a polite cough. "If you're planning to meet someone, you shouldn't be chatting me up… someone might get the wrong idea if you speak to me."

She smiled almost pointedly. "Oh, I don't know if I'm going out yet… the guy I like doesn't seem to notice me as much as he thinks he does. I'm actually here to talk him into going to dinner with me."

Solaris blinked, suddenly a little surprised and annoyed on her behalf. What kind of idiot wouldn't notice her? "Oh… that's too bad. Someone as interesting as you should be at the top of anyone's list. Are you meeting him here?"

The young woman giggled. "Actually, he's already here. I'm just running a social experiment to see how long it takes him to notice."

16 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

#2

The Crystalline King

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Lilly watched as the young Keir—he really was so, so small here—quietly edged towards a door frame. Somehow, despite the fact that she was much further away, voices suddenly came to her the same way they would have if she stood where the young prince did. It was as if, even here, that part of their connection still worked. But the sounds were… odd. Entangled, somehow. It was impossible to tell who spoke, without seeing who was in that room.

"... But you know he'll probably never have magic like us."

"We can't say that! He's only a child, just like Rolph had been before he left because of all this pressure. His magic could manifest any day now, or maybe even years from now, and that's fine!"

Lilly blinked, then jogged over to the doorway, watching things unfold. There stood a young Crowlyn, looking around her own age, leaning against a table and facing the king… who looked very different from when she last saw him in real life, a creepy and dangerous figure with a fake smile and lacking entirely in humanity.

No, this was an entirely different man. Tall, yes, but only barely taller than the average human. Velvety black hair with greying highlights framed his face, and seemingly helped to hold up glasses with a thin wire frame. His shirt was strikingly white and billowy, draping over somewhat lean limbs and tucked into brown working pants and a pair of well used boots, as well as a pair of leather bracers at his wrists. Like Keir, the king wore minimal jewelry. Much of it was made of sturdy leather and gold chain—including a piece resting at his forehead and looping under his hair, which seemed to stand in for a crown like she'd seen Keir wear occasionally. The way he stood and the magical atmosphere around him, however, resembled Crowlyn. He had an aura that even she could feel, and a sense of strength and authority that went beyond the physical. She couldn't quite see his eyes… but she knew that he could probably stop armies with a glare. This was the man from the painting she'd seen. Handsome. Soft features, clean and well-kept hair and close-cropped beard, a voice that was soft, but firm. A smile that radiated kindness—if not also a tight frustration at the current discussion with Crow. He looked so… normal. Like a father. Not at all the imposing and dangerous force that he had been when she’d met him. 

She could understand how Lunari might fall in love with this man, rather than the king she knew he would become.

"But still, an heir to this kingdom must have magic,” Solaris said, “It's the only way we keep our status as leaders over the other Daekin. If it wasn't for Lunari bringing together the other mages and supplying most of the power to build this place, I doubt we'd be held in such high regard. An heir who's empty of magic cannot take the throne while you are still an option to rally behind. It must be you, unless..."

"You're too much of a pessimist. And he doesn't need magic, if he has a mage and advisor,” Crowlyn argued.

"You only say that to avoid your duties, my son. Whether they lead anywhere or not, marriage interviews are part of the job—"

“—An unnecessary part, I assure you—!"

"—and are vital to keeping our family line strong,” the older man sighed, rubbing his neck. Did… did he seem sorry for having to say these things, or was Lilly just imagining it? “Our ancestors were the first Rorvae. The first to undergo the changes back on Earth, and the first to access the magic behind Fate. Our history and future are important things that must be maintained, at any cost."

Changes… back on Earth?

But no one elaborated on her silent question. “Keir can do that easily when he's old enough. Leave me to my own business,” Crow said, an edge to his voice, “And stop trying to force all these petty she-wolves on me! I'm not going to suddenly be more normal just because you set me up with someone!"

"Crowlyn…"

"No offense, father, but I'm tired. You should really go and see your sick wife for once, instead of barking in my ear about something neither of us needs to be concerned about."

As Crowlyn abruptly turned she watched Keir half-fall over himself to get clear of the door, while she also stepped back. He was nowhere near fast enough, though, and Crow—he seriously couldn’t possibly be a day over twenty—nearly tripped over him as he rounded the corner. Upon finding the younger prince, Crowlyn immediately signaled for silence, fluidly picking him up and trotting away.

Lilly glanced between the king and retreating princes, then turned to follow—

"I don't have my wife's talent for discernment, but I'm not entirely blind either."

The girl halted, her head whipping back to Solaris. He'd sat down at the wide table and started to write something. After a moment, he looked up with eyes that bore a startling resemblance to Keir's. They looked like bright gemstones, faceted and glimmering an array of yellows and oranges as light shifted around him. But unlike Keir's warm honey and amber tones, the eyes of king Solaris were hard and cold with their brightness, and zeroed in on her with alarming precision. They looked so light and alive compared to the last time she'd stared him down.

"Well, come in. You don't appear to be here to kill me… and from what little I can see of you I doubt you could regardless. Just skin and bones, you are"

The girl shivered, then entered the room. Once she'd gotten past the door, it clacked shut, trapping her and causing her to jump with a squeak.

"A girl? And human as well, it seems… I have no idea what you're doing here, but you shouldn't be roaming around so… willy-nilly. This place can be dangerous," he said, turning his attention back to what he was writing, almost sounding concerned for her safety. "But I suppose the guards cannot see you, as powerful as your spell is… though I'm shocked Crowlyn didn't spot you either. He's a very powerful mage… perhaps even more powerful than me. He's at least on par with Lunari, when she was younger. He must be just as frustrated as I am, to be so distracted."

Lilly swallowed. "I… don't know if he can see me, since he's who I'm… supposed to be following. 'Dream-walking', I think Crowlyn called it?"

The king nodded absently. "He sent you from somewhere himself, then… and you are a powerful magician in your own right. Your combined magic must have affected his spell, if you're here, and able to move independently. This isn't dream-walking, young lady. You've projected your soul back along Crowlyn's timeline. So... you aren't a spy, nor an assassin. Humor me, girl, why are you here?"

"Well… uh…" Lilly fumbled, her heart racing. Was it even safe to talk to this man? In a few short years, he'd be hurting his children left and right! She didn't want to give him anything he could use.

Solaris paused, then sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit. "It seems I've frightened you by accident… I apologize. When they call me 'the crystal king', it isn't just because of my eyes… I'm also a bit cold and rigid. You've caught me in a bit of a mood. Crowlyn, bless his heart, has put me in a difficult position. I don't want to force him to marry when he obviously isn't interested in women, but a king needs to be able to carry on his legacy. He can't dance around the problem forever, but he also doesn't seem keen on telling me his actual reasons. If he would, I'd be able to relent a bit…"

See the full post

19 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Contest Story: What Once Was

Heya! This is my entry into the writing contest being held by @athena-anna-rose! It's a short story involving some characters from my book, Fate's Crystal Majesty, and hints at some of the events to come. I recommend reading it in the original document HERE, because Tumblr breaks everything and doesn't allow for other fonts (and also removed every ounce of formatting in the story).

I put a lot of thought into what scenes to show, so I hope you find the story interesting!

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"I've been meaning to say this for a while," said a voice, light and playful like a bell. "...But you really are pretty cute when you're lost in a good story, mister Crown Prince!"

Solaris Trinidad Coronis nearly slammed his book closed, face turning red as his head whipped around. There, standing behind him, was a young mage— a student at the nearby university, and a familiar one. Her blonde hair and aquamarine eyes would have been a dead giveaway, even if her uniquely folded ears didn't signal her identity and status. A human-Rorvan hybrid, with strong magic and eyes nearly as mesmerizing as his own, could only be one person.

"O-oh, you're… Lunari Nitewing, correct? I believe I've seen you around…" He asked, adjusting his glasses, doing his best to ignore her commentary on him and hoping the magic in his eyes hadn't flared up. He nearly winced as he glanced at the nearby clock, suddenly noticing the time. The pups would probably tease him again for staying out so late...

The young half-Rorvan nodded, grinning. "Yes, your highness. But I'm surprised you remembered my name… They say you spend too much time with your head hidden in these books to notice much, and I'll admit, this library is where I usually end up seeing you."

He sniffed, wolf ears giving a disdainful twitch as he collected his studying materials. "Well 'they' don't seem to know the value of being well-read… but at least they're smart enough not to insult me to my face, I guess…" Though… he thought wryly, I'd have to be blind not to notice the most magical young woman on the planet. "...You ought not to listen to gossip, Miss Nitewing. You have a lot of talent."

"I find your studious nature endearing, actually!" The girl giggled. He suddenly realized how petite she was as she sat on the table, her eyes just barely higher than his were. "Makes you seem like a normal person."

"You'll find that I am a normal person, Miss Nitewing," he said, voice even. "I do what I can to make sure that being a prince doesn't get in the way of being a good citizen… or parent, though I can't say I'm doing a stellar job at the moment. I ended up getting lost in my reasearch."

He stood then, gathering his books in his arms, then gave the girl another quick once-over. Sky blue Rorvan-inspired blouse over white pants, dark boots, a charming blue headband to match her top, tasteful floral scented oils along her pulse points… she looked a bit too nice for a trip to the library.

Is she… going out with someone?

He gave a polite cough. "If you're planning to meet someone, you shouldn't be chatting me up… someone might get the wrong idea if you speak to me."

She smiled almost pointedly. "Oh, I don't know if I'm going out yet… the guy I like doesn't seem to notice me as much as he thinks he does. I'm actually here to talk him into going to dinner with me."

Solaris blinked, suddenly a little surprised, and annoyed on her behalf. What kind of idiot wouldn't notice her? "Oh… that's too bad. Someone as interesting as you should be at the top of anyone's list. Are you meeting him here?"

The young woman giggled. "Actually, he's already here. I'm just running a social experiment to see how long it takes him to notice."

Prince Solaris looked around. His lanky build let him have a good view of most places, and from where he was standing… this floor of the library seemed empty, aside from himself and the young mage that still sat rather casually on the table.

I don't see…?

"You know…" she started, and when he looked down at her he found that her eyes almost seemed to twinkle in the artificial light of the nearby reading lamps. "...I've been saving up for this date for nearly a month, so it'll be a shame if he turns me down."

Solaris blinked, noticing a hint of humor in Lunari's eyes, but chivalry won out over his ability to think past the sudden twinge of his heart. "That is quite a power move on your part, Miss Nitewing… but I must say, any man that forces you to pay for him as well as you, isn't worth your time. Call me old-fashioned, but a first date should be a meeting of equals."

She giggled, and he suddenly twitched to adjust his glasses. "If it were a normal man, I'd agree… but I'm afraid that I'm quite fond of this poor soul. He and I haven't talked much, but…" she said, looking up at him, eyes sparkling in shades of blue. "The medium of my magic is Shadow… and shadows tend to talk. This particular man's shadow says he's lonely, and a bit tired from all the stress he's been under after an awkward breakup. I decided it might be nice to treat him and his children to something fun. Maybe ice cream, since I know he has a thing for sweets."

Solaris suddenly blushed. Children? She has eyes for someone with kids? That would make him probably as old as… probably a lot like… and he enjoys ice cream like…

"...Oh."

"I've been watching this man from afar…" she confided, looking almost shy, as if watching the dots connect in Solaris' head while his ears twitched in embarrassment. "I don't think he really noticed. I've been trying not to scare him off, you see, since he's the type who tends to overthink things. I didn't want him to think that I was just approaching out of the blue or that I wanted something I shouldn't… but I didn't quite know how to start a real conversation with such a dignified gentleman."

The prince looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "...What will you do if he declines?"

"Probably just try again tomorrow. I'm very persistent!"

"And you don't mind that he… has children?"

See the full post

26 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lafoiaveugle]

Happy Death Day, Year 14

If you don’t know me, I celebrate a birthday in February the worst month, and a death day in November. Both are equally important days to me, even if I tend to forget which exact day my Death Day is. Anyways, every year I talk about the things I'm happy for, the little bit of advice I can give, and fuck it I'm making it an actual thing.

Are you…Dead? No, I am not dead. Wouldn’t it be ironic if November 23rd/24th ends up being my official death day though? I wouldn’t put it past the universe.

No, see at the age of 20, it really looked like the universe was trying to decide whether or not I should be alive. I ended up in the hospital multiple times due to an incurable autoimmune disease, and then a car accident landed me in ICU for a month. That happened to be the week before Thanksgiving through days before Christmas (if I remember correctly) and I’ve been celebrating it ever since. For those who weren’t there, I’ll spare you the graphic details, but I went from “she won’t likely survive the night” to “she might survive, but she’ll never walk” to “she’ll walk, but never unassisted,” to “okay but you have to wait another month because we are mostly afraid you’ll break your arm again.”

Note: They were right to fear this last one. I literally fell my first tennis match back during WARM UPS. Didn’t break my arm again. Did gain a killer backhand knowing people would target the scar.

People nearly die every day. Why celebrate this? I don’t think I am a pessimist by nature, but I do genuinely appreciate an anniversary to remind me about all the things I am truly thankful for, especially an anniversary without the added side effects of familial trauma, colonizer guilt, and forced cheer. No, instead I reflect on the things that keep me alive now, fourteen years after my death day. And when you add in the growing political unease and two years past the beginning date of a pandemic, I personally need to be reminded to take a minute and be thankful. The date represents a hard year, and a reminder to myself that while I now have a healthy relationship with the concept of me dying, I’m still so glad I’m here. So no, I don’t mentally calculate all the days I nearly died (every day I drive on the highway, let’s be real). But I do take a minute every November to compose my thoughts on life.

How are you celebrating this year? Well, I’ve started my morning with three cats using my bed to play “the floor is lava.” I’ll see my wonderful mom and two of my amazing siblings and grandmother for Thanksgiving lunch, then hanging out with Redd once he gets up from his super late shift last night. I’ll be in contact with those I love through out the day because we all will be navigating family. Maybe for fifteen I’ll throw a party or something. Fifteen extra years with me — you’re welcome (no really I’m so sorry.)

What new items are on your thankful list? First, I am thankful to the scientist out there working on “orphan diseases.” A new medication came out this year that could potentially put me in remission, get me off steroids, and potentially get me off my chemotherapy med. How amazing is that? I’ve spent the majority of the last two years fighting off the depression that comes with hearing a world constantly talk about how you aren’t important because you are sick. Or that you are less important because you are sick. The universe disagrees, bud, but I digress. I’ve been thinking about how thankful I am I didn’t give up on podcasting. Last year, especially this time of year, was incredibly rough and I did not consider podcasting a fun escape anymore. I had made the mistake of who I chose to cohost podcast with, I had men belittle my intelligence and tell me I was dramatic. I knew I was done hosting, being in front of a mic, but I was ready to move behind it permanently, into a writing position if I was lucky. Fortunately, I didn’t do any of that. I started up a podcast idea that was all consuming, I put myself on a time table that ended up requiring me to be in front of the mic again, and I’ve had to come face to face with some real repercussions and consequences of what had happened in 2021. Because of that, I have so many new people I adore working with, I have new friends I can’t imagine how I got this far without them in my life, and a genuinely great team to help push it forward. And it’s in the finals for some awards — look I know I throw myself into something when I cannot cope, and I’m glad this time it’s been a healthy project. One that has changed me for the better. I am also thankful that I’ve gained strength to stand up for myself more. I’m still working to gain back my confidence and self-worth, and I have made great strides forward in setting boundaries of who is allowed in my life and why. I also adopted two cats this year — a very outgoing part dog named Tempo, and a trained rogue who will steal your heart named Astrid. Along with Inanna, they keep our apartment loved, cozy, and chatty actually.

But again, none of this could be accomplished on my own. I have a support system of an amazing mom and step dad who may not always understand me but will support me (through the teasing). I have 3 siblings that just mean the world to me and inspire me to be a better person by watching them grow. I have Keira, who has only shown me kindness, friendship, and love, reminding me again that family is never just blood. I have four amazing best friends that are just as willing to talk me through the anxiety attack as they are to tell me when I am the problem. I never expected “Am I being dramatic or…” to be the way I orient myself in life, but I am so thankful they don’t judge it. I am thankful for the group of doctors and nurses I need to live. Not only that they all help keep me alive (and sane!) but because I’ve somehow found doctors that listen and work with me, rather than talk down to me.

What advice would you give someone post 14 years after nearly dying? I feel like I should put a caveat on my advice: most of this is advice I have to give myself regularly.

Stop trying to find the meaning of life. Just live. Don’t live to work, live for life. If that’s family, if it’s creating, if it’s traveling, cool! Find work/life balance and find it early. I didn’t have it at 20; I really didn’t have it until 33/34. It is life changing. If there is a secret to the universe, a “reason to be here” then I have figured out what my reason is, and what the universe’s reason might be. I don’t love the second, but I can only control the first.

Down time is healthy. Doing “nothing” is healthy. Producing something at all times is not healthy.

You can only control you, and that fucking sucks. Let me be clear — it’s a good thing I can’t control other people or how they react, and it’s even better no one can control me! Does that mean I like it? Absolutely not! Humans are unpredictable and you have to learn to roll with it.

Giving 100% and spoon theory actually overlap, and it took me way too long to realize that.

Notebooks don’t buy happiness. But an e-ink tablet is coming very close.

Teaching your cat to play fetch (or to “bring me the toy so I’ll play with you”) is a great idea in theory, ruins bathroom time quite frequently.

Know your worth. And you are worth it.

[salted-fish-girl]

"Like what ya see, Yeager?" Ymir and Hitch did a full spin to show off their dresses. 

"Don't get any ideas now. I only belong to my baby." Eren offered Ymir a brittle smile. Yup! Shadis will be losing his remaining hair tonight.

Jean groaned when Ymir dragged Hitch back to their hotel room because Historia needed help with her gown. 

By the time they arrived at the ballroom, Bertholdt was already trashed and was talking nonsense.

"What does he have that I don't have?" 

"Nothing!"

"I know right?!" 

"Chicks are weird like that!" 

Reiner thinks he's the best for making sure Bertholdt's glass is always full, it is a terrible idea, considering they're not even halfway done the whole night.

Where are they?

'We're on our way.' is the only text he got. 

"¡Maldita sea, que buena esta!"

Eren turned around to see what warranted Connie's Spanish. 

Annie is a dead ringer for Elsa in her fitted light blue dress. Armin and Annie are too busy eyefucking each other to notice that they got the room. 

Then comes the third wheel… For a second Eren almost didn't recognize Mikasa who's wearing a strapless pink dress. Though not as revealing as the other dresses, it gives him a sense of unease seeing his friend in it. 

Armin looked like a downright casanova with Annie holding on to his right arm and Mikasa holding his left. They slowly descended through the grand staircase with the spotlight following them. What the fuck? 

Didn't those two hate each other? Eren is perplexed seeing Mikasa and Annie talking amicably while his best friend presumably went to get drinks. 

So far, everyone is having a good time except for Bert and well… him. 

"Want my jacket?" he whispered. He didn't want their friends to hear him ask for the nth time. Mikasa never really disappoints, she always knows what he needs. Despite the noise and all this distraction, she still hears him. She turned around with her usual expression of 'what do you need, Eren?' written all over her face. 

"Do you want me to hold it for you?" He looked good in his blazer but if Eren's not comfortable, Mikasa will gladly take it off his hands. 

He facepalmed knowing that she misunderstood but instead of explaining he surprised himself "Want to get out of here?" 

Eren never fully understood but he can see how truly selfish he is. She didn't even ask why and just nodded at him. 

He took a hold of her wrist and pulled her away… just like when they were kids. 

What he didn't know and something that Mikasa will never admit is that she felt just as selfish as he did. She knows he's going to win prom king with Historia as his prom queen. And while she's been resigned to her fate of seeing Eren with some other girl, when Eren asked her, the sleeping fire in her heart took over. There was nothing she could do but let the flames devour her. 

He holds her wrist and pulls her away like when they were kids, Mikasa felt like a princess that she reads in her storybooks long before she met Eren Yeager. Perhaps the most important part is, he is Mikasa's prince… I want to be just the two of us, for a little while longer. Just tonight. 

As soon as they entered a nearby diner, Eren saw a group of college boys eyeing Mikasa like a piece of meat. He cursed under his breath. 

Eren put an arm around her and ordered. Mikasa didn't question his arm on her shoulder nor his decision to not eat at the diner. Her face brightened up when he handed her a strawberry milkshake. "Don't drink it all at once. You'll have a brain freeze." she smiled at him and nodded. 

They were laughing and halfway through the fries when they arrived at Eren's hotel room. 

"Bertholdt is a bit drunk… I'm worried about Armin." Mikasa doesn't want to go back but she also doesn't want anything bad to happen to her friend. 

"Armin can surely take Bert!" they laughed as they cheered for their blonde friend's romantic endeavor. 

"Did you know that Annie thought that Armin has a crush on me?" 

"Armin, you dog!" 

“I can imagine Armin getting an aneurism if his dear mother-” Eren not so subtly points at Mikasa “didn’t approve of the girl he is pining for!”

“Really?” It's been an ongoing joke about how Mikasa is Armin’s mother. “This comes out from a guy who refuses to go home unless I drop him off at Armin's house because he insists on kissing him goodnight!”

“Shut up! I was drunk!”

Their sides are splitting because of laughing too much. 

"hahahaha!" 

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Is that why the two of you had this intense rivalry? To think you accuse me of being dramatic by calling Jean my mortal enemy!"

[tazzytypes]

A s/o who has really bad tense muscles and stuff. Stiff shoulders, hips, etc (life is tough in Zaun obviously). How does Silco help them out with that. I'm looking for all the tooth decaying fluff you got. This man owns my whole heart.😭

Same here 😭 Silco is the reason Arcane is my current hyper-fixation.

Also, this sore muscle prompt is hitting way too close to home haha. My backpack for school weighs a tonnn and my back hates it — especially in this cold weather.

Headcannons for Silco are still open btw! If you want to send in more or if anyone else has some ideas please hit me up!

Anyways — here y’a’ go! Hope you enjoy!

Young Silco

Working in the Lanes is rough. Most work in the mines, especially during Silco’s youth, which brings its own aches and pains. On top of that, most people worked two or three jobs to make ends meet.

That being said, after a long days work, an intake of aches and pains is usually the first topic of conversation. You’d be with the three boys and Vander and Benzo would start up a lot of aches and pains and scars.

“That shift this morning twisted something in my shoulder,” Vander would say, “doesn’t help that that mining shift messed it up last month. Still gets stiff when it’s cold out.”

“Least you still have your legs,” Benzo says, “doc says he fixed my kneecap but it still hurts like a bitch.”

Silco will roll his eyes as they talk. You two don’t usually join in except to complain about how fucking tired you were. It was something to cheer to, you guessed. An excuse to drink.

However, Silco would note when somethings up. While he may roll his eyes at his friend’s antics, it’s not because he doesn’t care. It’s because they’re so predictable.

Definitely lot of jokes given about you two being stress relief for the other. Benzo definitely calls you “Silco’s pretty masseuse,” as a joke, earning a slap upside the head from both Vander and Silco

Silco’s observant. It’s what made him so valuable to the rebellion. He knows just by the way you’re holding yourself where the aches and pains are.

You keep touching and rolling your shoulder to get some relief? His hand is there to keep some pressure on it. It’s not much, but it keeps the ache away for a bit.

You’re shifting on your feet as you stand because your hips are stiff? You’re in his lap now. Just don’t shift around too much, ok? He’s skinny and you’re like… really hot.

He’ll let you get in the shower first, just so you can have the warmest water. That is, if it’s working. A lot of times you have to heat the water and fill the tub yourself — it’s a whole process. If it’s a particularly bad day for you, he’ll prepare a bath for you as you take a nap or something. Probably something he does at the end of the week when he doesn’t have to worry about being up early the next day.

He’ll sit behind you sometimes as you bathe with a smirk on his face.

“Enjoying yourself?” He’ll ask.

All you can do is hum which makes him chuckle. He’ll ease tension in your shoulder and wash your hair for you. If it leads to more, it leads to more. If not, he likes being able to take care of you.

Another remedy is to warm water on the stove and use a washcloth as a makeshift heat pad. Silco came up with the idea and you thought he was a fucking genius.

He’s no masseuse, but he will help you work out the worst pains. Is afraid to do anything too intensive as he doesn’t know what he’s doing and doesn’t want to make things worse.

If you’re sore because of HIM? Smug af. Cheekily will say, “everything alright? Maybe you should sit down?”

Sometimes all the tenseness stems from anxiety. There’s always something to have your guard up against. He’ll try and cover your six to make you relax. Definitely makes note to smother you in affection later and otherwise make you completely melt.

Act 1 Silco

Act 1 Silco knows the importance of appearance. Being able to provide isn’t just his love language, it’s a sign that he’s the top dog people should bet upon.

That being said, he’s not Act 2 and 3 Silco. Yeah, he has a fancy lair. But it was abandoned. There’s a lot of deals and bartering being done to get things. More coins to scrape together, but still spread thin.

He’ll get you things that help with the aches. Peppermint oil, a semi-decent heated blanket, those sort of things.

He’s less likely to pull you into his lap or rub your shoulders like he would when he was young. At least in public. As said before, Silco knows the importance of appearances. Does his connection to you put a target on your back? Yes. However, it’s also more than that. Him doting on you too publicly makes YOU look weak. He can’t have that. People take advantage of weak people in these parts and the vultures are always swarming.

So, his way of dealing with this is holding you back. Calling your name followed by a serious, “a word,” which makes it seem like he’s about to rip you a new one.

“How long has it been bothering you?” He’ll ask, nodding to whatever part of you is sore that day.

He then offers to get you whatever you need, whether by getting someone to fetch it for you or ordered more if you’re out.

If you’ve tried everything, however, he’ll tell you to take a break and nap or just otherwise take things easy.

When you’ve tried every trick in the book, he’s there with gentle hands. Will give you a few days off to either solve the problem or think of a better solution.

“I’ll have Singed make something.”

“There’s someone who owes me a favor or two. Smuggles in things topside. I’ll see if he knows anything.”

Will check in on you periodically. Small (and I mean very small) breaks will be taken in his part to run your shoulders or otherwise help you ease up a bit.

Is more likely to ask questions to see if your anxieties and stress have anything to do with it. Especially if he knows important missions are around the corner. Understands the complexities of the mind, now. He probably has more tenseness himself. If that’s the root of your problems, expect sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

Speaking of questions, will definitely start spilling a list of remedies.

“Have you tried [x]?” He’ll ask.

“Yes.”

“what about [Y]?”

“That, too”

“How about [z]?”

“No,” you’ll snap, voice filled with sarcasm. He looks you in the eyes and you huff. “Of corse I fucking did!”

Will try and go to bed earlier than he usually does to check in on you (again). Expect to be cuddled.



Act 2 and 3 Silco

Any fancy oil, heating device, or compression gear you need? All you have to do is ask. Only the best of the best.

Has the best masseuse on hand for all your needs.

You don’t even have to ask. He sees you in pain or feeling uncomfortable and he’s already made arrangements.

Less likely to personally attend to you now. In part because he’s the busiest man in Zaun, but also he knows you’re in better hands than his.

However, will feel a bit… jealous isn’t quite the word. He knows it’s a detached approach to taking care of you and, while it’s the best care he could give, he’s still a man of Zaun. Something about doing the work with your own two hands is more rewarding, especially when it comes to helping those you care about.

You’ll get used to the fancy masseuse and mention having an appointment with him and he’ll look up from his desk for a moment.

“While I love to spoil you,” he’ll say, “It would be best if we cut spending in that department. Just for a bit. Let me draw you a bath.”

It’s a lie. Don’t call him on it. Let him do this for you. If you call him out in it he may think you’re angry at him or don’t want to spend time with him. His mind always goes to the worse, even if he trusts you wholeheartedly. Do you just love him for the money? Those types of things. Either way, you get spoiled rotten. Just let him do this.

Will make an evening out of it. May result in spicy times, may not. Either way, it usually results in you two curled up in bed together, his hands tracing patterns on your skin.

[also please schedule this man with your masseuse. He won’t do it if it’s just for him, so beg him for a date night with a massage and dinner. Silco is stressed and not as young as he used to be. God knows there’s always something that’s sore these days]

[peeterparkr]

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.”

-

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