#please ignore the tiny change on some reblogged versions I suddenly decided I had to change around his neck
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toothhurty · 2 years ago
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Goncharov is my tragic little meow meow, my babygirl
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naturallytom · 3 years ago
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Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader, alternative part)
a/n: me? writing? unheard of. jk im tryin to get back into the groove!! this is an alternate version to Mending a Broken Heart, so some parts are the same and some I’ve edited or added some things! hope u enjoy!! 
warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating
please reblog/leave feedback!!
picture not mine!
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You had noticed it for months. Tom has been pulling away, spending more time out with the boys than at home with you. His kisses became forced and the words ‘love you’ slowly stopped falling from his lips. 
Most days he would leave for work before you woke up and on the rare occasion you were up when he left, he would mumble a ‘goodbye’ before walking out the door. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he would press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Most times, though, he would just leave. 
You did your best to keep the love alive, you were still madly in love with him. The wedding band that sat tightly on your ring finger mocked you. A symbol of what was love has turned into one sided love. Hell, you weren’t sure if Tom wore his wedding ring anymore. 
A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t. 
You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?
No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you. 
Still, the thought plagued your mind. Did he meet someone else? Was she prettier than you? Is that where he was when he said he was out with the boys? Was she able to give him something you couldn’t give him?
The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. 
The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him. 
“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.” 
“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply. “Hey so I was thinking, we haven’t had a date night in a while, maybe you wanted to go out to see the Halloween decorations around town and get dinner tomorrow night?” 
“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.” 
“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?” 
“Yeah, and?” 
“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.” 
“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you. 
-
The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs. 
“Good morning.” You smiled softly. 
“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked. 
“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky. 
“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.” 
It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down. 
“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”
“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache. 
“We can try couples’ therapy. We can go on dates like we used to, Tom, please! We can fight for this, Tom. Fight for us.” You cried, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, each one puncturing your lungs as you struggled to keep your breath under control. 
“No,” He shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, y/n. Um, I found a lawyer at a firm, they have a lot of other lawyers there you can contact. I’ll just, uh, leave their card here.” 
“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor. 
“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”
He placed the small business card on the counter, grabbing the bags you didn’t even notice, mumbling an ‘I’ll be staying with Haz,’ before walking out the front door, like he did every other day. This time, though, you had the sinking feeling he was leaving for good. 
-
It was only three weeks that your lawyer came over to meet with you, joined by Tom and his lawyer. You kept your eyes focused on the table as you signed the paperwork, wanting to get this done as soon as possible. 
As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried. 
-
Nearly two months after the worst day of your life and it was time for a self care night. The ring that once sat on your left hand was buried away in your jewelry box somewhere and you were finally starting to feel free and somewhat happy again after crying yourself to sleep and wondering where it all went wrong for months. 
After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. You also moved out of the house you once called home. Not only was it too painful to go home to an empty house, but it was too painful to go home to a house that held so many happy and loving memories. You took the necessities along with some things you wanted with you and set yourself up in a hotel room for the time being. You treated it as a vacation. Except only a few people knew where you were. Your family knew, along with your friends, including Harrison, on the condition he didn’t tell Tom where you were. You started making time for yourself in your little hotel room and you became happier. 
Tonight, after a long day of work, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in. 
To your surprise, it was Tom. You contemplated answering it, but instead, let it go to voicemail. However, you were curious as to why he called, though you were also 99% positive it was a pocket dial. So you played the voicemail, the familiar voice ringing throughout the bathroom. 
“Hey y/n, um, I hope you’re doing well. I just called because I wanted to tell you something. I um, I miss you. A lot. And I know I don’t get to feel that way but I do and I just wanted to tell you that and I guess ask if there was any possibility of meeting to talk? Uh, call me back if...if you want. I don’t blame you if you hate me. Bye. Love y-” 
You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes. 
You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night. 
-
When Tom pulled up to his former house with flowers in his car and a pit of nerves in his stomach, he expected to see your car in the driveway and at least one light to be on. He was greeted with an empty driveway and a dark house, which confused him. It was the weekend, so you weren’t work. Maybe you had to run an errand? 
But after 20 minutes, he gave up hope that you were home and tried to call you, which to no surprise, you didn’t pick up again. He instead called Harrison in an effort to try and find out if he knew where you were. 
“What do you want?” Harrison answered, half concentrating on what Tom was about to say and half concentrating on the game in front of him. 
“Do, uh, do you know where y/n is?” Tom asked, taking Harrison by surprise. 
“y/n?” Harrison paused the game, suddenly not able to concentrate on it. “Why d’you want to know where y/n is?”
“I just want to talk to her.” He mumbled. 
“If I knew that’s where you were going I wouldn’t have let you go.” Harrison sighed. “Listen she made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you-” 
“Please Harrison? You’ve seen how much of a mess I’ve been. I just want to see if I have a shot.” Tom begged, making his friend cave. 
“Fine but if she moves again I won’t be telling you shit.”  
-
The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book, getting some relaxation in before your week began when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by. 
Looking out the peephole, you froze at the sight that greeted you. Tom was standing outside your door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. 
“Hi.” He breathed out, his nose and the tips of his ears red from the harsh winter air. 
“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground. 
“Harrison. I begged him to tell me.” He answered. 
“I’m gonna kill him.” You muttered. “What do you want?”
“Can..Can I come in?” He asked. 
You wanted to say no, that he could say what he wanted to say outside or just not let him speak at all. But you wanted to be courteous to the other people on your floor and part of you was curious as to what he was going to say. So you wordlessly opened the door slightly, letting him in and closing the door behind him. 
“Now what do you want?”
“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.” 
“I don’t want your flowers. Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.” 
“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.” 
“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped. 
“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy. 
“You’re speaking already.” You answered, gesturing for him to continue nonetheless. 
“I- How have you been? I stopped by the house-”
“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you. 
“Um, so I thought I wasn’t happy with you but um, as time went on, I realized how much I miss having you in my life.” He began, visibly nervous. “I was just looking through our pictures and how happy you looked and I just, I guess I realized I wanted to be the one to make you that happy again.”
“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.” 
“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.” 
“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked. 
“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.” 
“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed. 
“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?” 
“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”
“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..” 
“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the lack of love in your voice, but especially your eyes. Your eyes, which once held so much love and adoration for him were now full of anger and resentment. 
“Of..anything, y/n. Please, I just want a second chance to show you how much you mean to me, to make you happy again. I will do anything to save us, anything you want. And...and if it’s not working or you just really hate me, I wouldn’t blame you. Not at all.” He begged, his eyes puffy and red. 
“I tried to save us, Tom. Don’t you remember? I begged and pleaded with you to do couples therapy to go on dates when you were breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. I begged you to try and fight for us, for our marriage, but you just walked out the god damn door!” You spit through gritted teeth. 
“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away. 
“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in that big fucking house that was haunted by you. I couldn’t stand it.” You sobbed. 
“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?” 
“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.
Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you. 
“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response. 
“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-” 
“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.” 
“y/n pl-”
“You don’t get to do this. You-you don’t get to just waltz right back in here and ask for a second chance to fight for us when I didn’t even get a first chance. How do I know this won’t end like it did before?” 
“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged. 
“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly. 
“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.
“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed. 
“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’
“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.” 
“Why’d you get a hotel room?” Tom sniffled, changing the subject. 
“I told you. I hated being in that house. Hated being surrounded by the happy pictures and memories of us.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.” 
“What?”
“I want to start over. I can’t go back to being emotionally married to you even if we’ll still be married legally. I’m talking starting from scratch, as if we were meeting for the first time, the whole deal.” You told him. 
“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”
“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.” 
“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.” 
“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily. 
“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you. 
“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart. 
You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed. 
Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath. 
Tom: hey y/n, it’s tom, just incase you don’t have my number saved anymore. I just wanted to say thank you for the second chance. I really am grateful. I hope you have a relaxing night, you deserve it. 
You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach. 
-
Tom began texting you sweet little things each morning, whether it was to let you know that he’s been thinking of you or to tell you that he hopes you have a great day. At first you ignored them, but then you began responding in short answers of one or two words until the two of you were texting every day, like when you met for the first time seven years ago. 
-
Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your hotel, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. 
He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year. 
“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.” 
“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.” 
Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates. 
When he took you back to your hotel, he walked you up to the door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you. 
You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you. 
“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe. 
“Then do it again.” 
-
A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. You had gone back to the house every now and then, to slowly acclimate yourself to being back in the once happy house, only fully moving back when Tom moved back as well. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off, making your heart race instead of hurt at the sight of the happy memories. 
-
Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end. 
The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared. 
You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry. 
“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes. 
“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes. 
“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.” 
“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Hey, Tommy?” 
“Yeah?” 
“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him. 
“I told you I would.” 
Your moment was interrupted by Harrison, who entered the kitchen, smiling at his two best friends happily in love once again. 
“Aren’t you so glad I told him where you were staying?” He joked, making you roll your eyes. 
“Shut up, Harrison.” You smiled. As your eyes flickered between Tom and Harrison, though, you knew you wouldn’t have been in this position if Harrison didn’t spill the beans to Tom. 
“Hey Haz?” You called, as Harrison went to leave the kitchen in fake offense. He turned at the sound of his name, knowing what was coming. 
“Thank you.” Tom nodded in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. 
Harrison just smiled even bigger, all three of you knowing everything would be okay from now on.
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dr-gloom · 4 years ago
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What You Wanted (Ch3)
Fandom: Sanders’ Sides
Ship: none
Words: 1,256
Tags/Warnings: manipulation and deception, i guess it can be considered gaslighting?, minor violence nothing to write home about
Please reblog the version with links
Rage, Janus found, could be cold. The side felt it washing over him as he watched Virgil tell the others his name, change his jacket, continue his life as if he’d never known anything else. He hadn’t even come to say goodbye, to face the two sides he was leaving to die. It was as if he’d completely forgotten that Janus and Remus even existed. Remus had felt completely betrayed and abandoned when Janus had shared the news. Janus too, though he preferred to focus on his anger. Anger spurred action, after all, and he was a man of action. He needed a new plan. 
Seven months. That’s how long it took Virgil to carve out his own escape, and that’s how long it took Janus to plan and scrape and claw for his own. Seven months, and he’d gained enough control to be able to manifest outside of the subconscious. The first chance he could get, he went after Morality. 
It was only months of debriefings from Virgil that had him at all prepared for impersonating Morality during a video. The entire time he couldn’t help but find it strange and idiotic how they all stood in a circle and prattled on, engaging in nonsensical activities to come to any sort of decision. He’d been doing rather well rolling with the punches, if he did say so himself. That is, until Virgil called him out, alerting Thomas and causing him to reveal himself. He’d even kept his face neutral as Creativity insulted the very thing he’d loved about Janus when they were kids. How he thought that self-absorbed pompous ass could possibly be his childhood friend was beyond him. 
That night, after everyone had gone their separate ways, Janus appeared in Virgil’s room. Virgil had been lounging in bed listening to music and shot up when he caught sight of Janus, fear and anger warring in his features. Janus was silent for a moment as he approached his old friend, eyes narrowed as he studied his face. Memories came unbidden; Virgil laughing in delight at his appearance after giving himself mismatched eyes, Janus chasing him all over the mindscape until Creativity came to his rescue, Janus turning into a giant snake to fight him, Virgil coming to him in the middle of the night because he was scared and sleeping next to him. Janus sneers. 
“So, Virgil,” the other’s name rolls off his tongue, making Virgil shiver. “Are you proud of your decision? Are you proud of the way you deserted Remus and I to live with these monsters?”
Virgil clenches his jaw, taking a slight step back. “He’s changed, Deceit. He isn’t like that anymore.” Janus sucks in a breath through his nose when Virgil uses that name, clenching his fists.
“No? Has he apologized?” Virgil’s silence is all the answer he needs. “They must be treating you like a king. If not, I can’t possibly imagine why you would choose them over your family.”
“They’re nice to me-”
“And I wasn’t? Remus wasn’t? Were we not enough for you? Have you forgotten how we gave up everything for him, how we gave up everything for each other again and again? Remus and I were the only ones who cared about you, those so-called ‘light sides’ left you in the subconscious with us to rot. Remind me, how did they act when you suddenly forced yourself back into their lives-”
“You told me to-”
“I may have given you pointers, shared ideas, but you are the one who decided the way to win was through fear.” Virgil shrinks back, his anxiety rising. Janus inspects his gloved nails. “I’m proud of you, Virgil, really. You saw your chance and you took it. You’re finally free of this agonizing life, it truly must have been so hard on you. Thank God they rescued you.” Janus ignores how it pulls at his heart when Virgil looks away, a tear slipping down his cheek. Instead, he pushes on. “I get it. You got a taste of the good life, you got your moment in the sun and you couldn’t let it go. Say whatever you need to say in order to justify this to them, to yourself. Do what you must to survive. Whatever makes this easier for you. And I’ll do the same.” 
The last thing Virgil sees of his best friend is a glowing yellow eye before he’s gone. 
(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚
Virgil is on edge while Janus and Remus plan. It isn’t until Remus reveals himself that they’re finally ready for the next step, both sides finally having enough power to extend their influence beyond the scope of the subconscious. They bide their time carefully until they find the perfect moment, then they strike. 
Morality is first. He’s gotten soft over the years, and the recent arguments with Janus haven’t helped. Janus appears before him on his way to the kitchen and smirks, Morality letting out a startled cry and taking a step back. Janus puts a finger to his lips and gently shushes Morality, one of his snakes slithering behind the side and tripping him when he takes another step back. Janus looms over him with a smug look as he weaves a golden web of influence, watching the light dim from Morality’s eyes as the wires wrap around his wrists and neck. Janus twitches his fingers, manipulating Morality like a puppet, and Morality heads back to his room. Janus disappears.
The other Creativity is next. Janus lets Remus help, not because he needs it, but because this is personal. To Remus, Virgil had replaced him with his other half, his “brother”, the “nicer”, “better” Creativity. He was going to make Virgil regret it. Creativity put up a fight, of course. He brandished his sword as soon as he caught sight of his other half, gritting his teeth and charging at him. Janus relied on Remus to keep Creativity occupied as he came up from behind, his golden wires wrapping around Creativity’s wrists and neck. Remus grins as Creativity’s eyes flicker gold and he pauses, his sword suspended mid-swing. He summons a golden crown, one they haven’t worn since they were one person, and sits it atop Creativity’s head. Weaving wires of his own around Creativity, Remus helps Janus gain control of him before they both disappear. 
Logic is last. He welcomes Janus into his room like they’re old friends, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. Of the three “light sides”, Logic has always had the most tolerance for the “dark sides”. Janus suspects it’s because he isn’t so emotional, so he can remain objective and thus sees the purpose of Janus and the others’ existence. Logic sits at his desk, tapping a stack of papers against the wooden surface to straighten them, Janus walking up behind him quietly. “So, I presume you have some manner of business to discuss if you are here. How can I help you?”
Janus smirks from behind Logic, his fingers twitching. Golden wires dance from his fingertips as he speaks. “Nothing too difficult. I merely need to manipulate your body long enough to make sure my plan succeeds.” Logic’s eyes widen in surprise and he turns in his chair to question Janus, but Janus’ wires wrap around his wrists and throat before he can make a sound. Janus straightens Logic’s tie and disappears. 
If they can’t get the others to accept them, then they’ll just have to take their place in the sun by force.
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