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#the remedy for a broken heart
theparadoxart · 1 year
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supremestrangeness · 2 years
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Continued from Here...
cherryfinolahobbes​: @cherryfinolahobbes
Wong let the matter of appearing uninvited drop. His Stephen hardly knocked, why should he expect any version of him to? Especially one that could do more than just pass through a wall, but whole dimensions.
Wong wasn’t ever sure he’d get used to seeing the Other Stephen (which wasn’t fair as every Stephen felt he was the One (1) Stephen Strange, but there really wasn’t any other way around it) appearing as he did in inky spiraling mist, looking gaunt and pale as a specter.
Strange didn’t even bother with a greeting, launching into a whole thing of “brain stuff” and Wong surprised himself by understanding. He finally remembered that he had a book between his hands and with a gesture, the book closed on it’s own and flitted through the air towards it’s spot on the shelf.
“So…magical psychoactive herbs is what you’re looking for?” Wong asked, appreciating the other’s attempt at humor. He scratched at the short beard on the end of his chin, looking thoughtful. “Im no doctor either, but I do know I have some books we can look into and I’m sure we could /suss/ something out,” He drawled with a smirk. Honestly, he was proud and impressed the other wanted to do something about his mental state. After everything that had happened, Wong was glad Strange wanted to attempt to find something to help him. He wouldn’t deny, it helped his ego a little to be leaned on by any entity of Strange. “Was there something that you had in mind? Where you were wanting to start?”
“I suppose… something like that. It might be tricky, but I can’t be the only… Sorcerer out there who has… regrets. Who needs… treatments. I know I can’t… change things, about what I am, but… I’m tired, Wong.  Of fighting it. I’m not alone anymore and… I worry.” He stared off into the middle distance for a moment before straightening in his chair, waving a hand as a book materialized in a crawl of more shadowy mist and a flicker of red motes of light. It was filled with various bookmarks, and annotations as he flipped through it, settling on a particular page with another gesture, and he tapped the entry, “I found this. I believe it exists in your universe, but not necessarily this dimension. I could go alone…” His haunted, sunken eyes drifted up to the other man, almost desperate, “But I am realizing more and more, I don’t have to. It might not do the trick entirely, but it’s a start… and thought perhaps you might have suggestions from there.” 
The entry showed some sort of herb, the ancient text summarizing a short list of effects, usually a component in taming beasts and demons.  Ultimately, to those who knew how to read between the lines, a glorified demonic cat nip. 
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cumpendent · 2 years
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Gotta go to IKEA this weekend and get yet another bookshelf because I can never have too many books. Might get one with glass windows on it too so I can put my valuables behind it, a la my cats keep breaking shit.
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harunayuuka2060 · 3 months
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MC: *calling a repair company*
MC: Hi.
Customer service: Hello. How may I assist you today?
MC: I need a repair.
Customer service: Of course. What needs to be repaired?
MC: My broken heart.
Customer service: ...
Customer service: Got it. We'll be sending you a text message shortly. *ends the call*
MC: ...
The first years: ...
Ace: That service is real?
MC: Shh. *received the text message*
Feeling down because your heart's in pieces? Don't stress. We've got just the remedy. Check out the lineup of the most charming bachelors in Twisted Wonderland.
Malleus
Vil
Leona
Rook
Cater
Trey
Idia (this one is optional - we're about to drop him from the list)
Jade
Floyd - (We're sorry. This one has already been removed.)
The first years: ...
Ace: What?
Epel: *laughs*
Ortho: What company is that? I won't let them remove Idia from the list!
Sebek: Ha! As expected of Waka-sama!
Deuce: I feel bad for Floyd-senpai.
Jack: I'm just wondering... You called for a repair. Why did they give you a list of bachelors?
MC: It's secretly a dating company.
The first years: ...
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YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓
The Prequel to the "It's a Match!" series.
[ The Teaser! ] || [ Chapter 1 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 600~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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You’ve always found the concept of rebounds hilariously dumb. Every time that trope came up on a romcom or sitcom you were watching, you found yourself rolling your eyes at it.
Then again, everything about how Hollywood portrays break-ups is ridiculous. Sobbing on the couch while eating a pint of ice cream? Putting on your ‘revenge dress’ and showing your ex what they’re missing? All BS… but you guess both of those have a time and a place… But rebounds? 
How can someone think the remedy to a broken heart or a bad break-up is… getting involved with someone else? How can that be healthy at all? You’re at your lowest and most vulnerable and you decide to let someone else in to do more damage? Ridiculous.
That’s why you scoffed and rolled your eyes when your friend Leah suggested it during film night at your flat. “C’mon, you need to get laid!” She said as she bit down on her slice of pizza.
“Oh, please-” You grumbled, slinking down on the couch. “I’m alright by myself, thanks.”
“Pfft, c’mon!” Mia, your other friend, quipped while sitting on a pillow on the floor. “You seriously need to get out of the house and find someone else!”
"No, serious, you do." Leah agreed and nodded. "What happened with that tosser Ethan should not have you isolating youself like this."
“No, thank you. I’m quite alright by myself. Don’t need that extra stress.” You retorted as you reached for another slice of pizza from the coffee table.
“What extra stress?” Leah asked. “There's nothing stressful about it! It’s sex.” She said simply, Mia quickly nodding in agreement.
“The extra stress of going out and talking to people and getting to know them…” You list it off while halfway through chewing your bite of food.
“Oh, sod off! We’re not talking about a date!” Mia quickly said as she pushed your knee lightly with her bottle of Coke.
“Yeah, it’s a shag. You don’t have to meet or talk to a bloke! You just create an account on Tinder or Bumble or something.” Leah added.
You shoot them a look of disbelief. “Oh, I’m not doing that! Are you mental? Those apps are a cesspool! There’s nothing but creeps and losers on there…” You complained.
“See, that’s the mentality of someone who wants a boyfriend out of those apps!” Mia scolded you and nudged your knee again. “If you use it with that intention of course you’ll think every bloke there is a creep. But you’re not going to use it to look for a date! You’ll use it for the same as them: a shag.” She added.
“C’mon! Hand over your phone, let’s create a profile for you!” Leah insisted and stole your phone from your hoodie’s pocket before you even had time to argue, unlocking it and getting to work downloading Tinder.
“I don’t know…” You said, uncertain, as you nibbled on your pizza slice again. “I feel like I’ll get picky and reject all of them once their profile pops on my screen.” You add.
“Then don’t.” Mia said with a shrug while she pushed up onto her knees to peek at your phone screen in Leah’s hand.
“Yeah! Just Swipe Right on all of them! You’re bound to find one that’s worth it that way.” Leah added as she began creating an account for you.
“I don’t know-” You tried saying again, not just uncertain but downright disliking the idea.
“We promise it’ll be fun!” Mia interrupted you. “Just do what we tell you! Swipe right on everyone!” Mia added. “What’s the worst that’s going to happen?”
“Worst-case scenario, you don’t like any of them enough to meet for a shag. So what? Will make no difference on your life as it currently is.” Leah added and leaned herself lightly against you, nudging you with her shoulder.
Thinking for a moment, you end up sighing and smiling. “Fine!” You said, amused. “I guess if nothing else, it’ll give me a confidence boost to have ‘em all dming me.” You joked.
“That’s the spirit!” Mia cheered and wrapped her arms around you. “Now, let’s find some pictures of you looking fit to add to your profile.” She said, causing you all to giggle.
taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
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candyk0rn · 6 months
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Comforting your tears-BG3
If they found you crying
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Ugh I know my old friends are sick of this prompt because I’ve probably done it one hundred times..but can you blame me??
Before reading: gn reader, Angst (if you squint) with comfort, Astarion x reader, Gale x reader, Halsin x reader (separate)
Astarion:
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Astarion has shed his fair share of tears in his prolonged life
Not recently, of course (Unless this takes place after a certain quest line…)
And he’s used to seeing others cry, wether they be his conquests when they realize his actual intentions,
Wether he sees a lost child in the night sobbing for his mother,
Wether it be a sad woman mourning a loss in the darkened graveyard
But he’s never seen you cry, and he’s never craved that sight either
He’s not sure why you were crying, and he doesn’t take time to ask you that
Because if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know what to do
He has never once had to comfort another’s tears, and if he ever has, there was always an ulterior motive
But here you were, trying to suck back floods of tears before him
And all he could do was stand still, a small furrow in his brow
In all honesty, he waits for you to do something first
To reach for him, to say his name, anything
Even just telling him to go away would be enough, because it would give him the slightest bit of direction
If you shove him away, without hesitation he shall flee
But if you move the slightest bit, he rushes to your side
His hand twitch as they hold you, not knowing if this is truly what you need to feel better
But perhaps, these hands which have killed many,
Can also comfort.
Gale:
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Similar to Astarion, he’s not quite sure what the best remedy for a broken heart is
But he is a lot less clueless
When he sees you, he wishes so badly to take all of your pain and inflict it onto himself
He’d rather die than see you like this again
He thinks back to his youth, how his mother would confer him when he would cry or become upset
He also thinks ‘How would I want to be comforted?” Only to be bombarded with thoughts of Tara purring sleepily in his lap
So that wasn’t gonna work
He silently takes you in his arms, rubbing loving circles into your back
He kisses your temple, whispering ‘What’s wrong?’ Into your ear
If you shake your head or don’t respond, he’s not going to push you for any more information
If you begin to tell him, he listens diligently, not interrupting you
He rocks you back and forth, hoping he’s helping you in some way
My bro is trying his best 💪
Halsin:
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Halsin is easier than the other two because omg he’d be the best at comforting you
Like Gale, he would just scoop you up in his arms and shower you with affection
He’s also a very smooth talker
You need him to distract you? He already has a story to tell you
You need him to whisper loving nothings into your ear? He’s gonna make it his life goal to make your cheeks grow red
He takes your hand in his, placing it atop of his chest, allowing you to feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing
This is something he does often, waiting for you to follow suit
Times like these are precious to him, because it shows him that you feel able to be vulnerable around him
In his eyes, vulnerability is so beautiful, even if it leaves your face tear stained and red
He presses his lips to your temple, lingering for a long moment
He wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while
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Thanks for reading!!
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kquil · 4 days
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JAMES POTTER | 01:15 ⏤THE PRETTY MECHANIC
SUM. : james borrows sirius' new motorbike and ends up breaking down on the road, thankfully he remembers a mechanic shop nearby and heads straight for it - he doesn't expect to meet the prettiest mechanic there though
TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; mechanic reader ; biker james ; reader is oblivious ; reader is just doing her job ; james being the love sick puppy that he is ; james is a loveable dork ; james breaks a promise ; sirius doesn't have to know ; legal vandalism? ; vandalisim is never legal kids ; don't try this at home ; james and sirius are BFFs!
LENGTH : 1.1k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
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James was FUCKED!... 
He had borrowed Sirius’ new motorbike but now it was shutting down on him and he didn’t know what to do! This has never happened with his best friend’s previous bike before. That bike was easy to handle, not at the beginning, but over time, James had grown familiar with it and now that he was on a new bike, he didn’t even know where to begin with trying to remedy the issue – whatever the issue was! 
“Padfoot’s gonna kill me if his sweet new ride breaks down,” James’ voice shakes as he panics silently to himself, “and it’s all because of me…”
James remembers spending an entire week trying to convince Sirius to allow him the privilege of riding his new motorbike. A matte, all black Triumph Daytona 660. It was a beautiful ride, and one that Sirius was proud to own and made him promise to handle with the greatest care. Sirius’ love for the motor vehicle was contagious and made James just as much of a fanatic over bikes. James had his own Suzuki SV650 in red and black finish. 
Handling of Sirius’ Triumph was unparalleled, not only did it look artful on the road but it was also incredibly agile. The footpeg was well placed and, accompanied with the raised clip-on handlebars, the position it locks you in for a speedier cruise was so much more compelling compared to his Suzuki. The Triumph definitely didn’t shy away from staking its claim as a sports bike but that only meant it was more addicting to ride. 
And now, here James was…
After breaking down at the side of the road, he had been pushing and pushing the bike all the way into the previous town he had passed and was now on his way to the mechanic shop he had caught a small glimpse of when passing.  He worked up quite the sweat but didn’t pay it much attention; too worried over Sirius’ disappointment and anger. James made a promise to take care of his new motorbike and he had just broken said promise. Staring up at the mechanic sign, James took a breath and clung onto the slight hope that whatever happened could be fixed. 
“Damn,” the new voice makes James’ head snap towards the open garage of the shop, “is that your bike?” 
“Uh…” James struggles to form any words because, how could he when you were staring at him with such pretty eyes and sweet-looking lips? When you were dressed in the typical motorbike mechanic overall-type uniform, all black and clearly oversized, swamping your figure in the most adorable way. Just a moment ago his heart had been racing in fear of Sirius’ fury but now it was racing for an entirely different reason. You’re so pretty… pretty and with the kindest eyes. Your lips are moving… so you’re probably talking to him right now but he can’t hear anything when his eyes are so focused on the way your lips shape around different words. Oh! But he bets your voice sounds as pretty as you so he should probably start listening to you again. 
“--ou okay?” you finish with worried eyes and James could only guess what you were just saying. 
“Y-yeah!..” he bashfully turns away from your gaze, “Sorry about that,”
“It’s alright,” when he turns back to you again, James has to stop himself from sighing dreamily and openly drooling over just how pretty you were. But you were smiling at him! And so sweetly too that his insides melt around the butterflies fluttering around his stomach, “what can we do for you today?”
“My uhh…my friend’s bike. I was just borrowing it and it broke down a few miles from here,” he admits as a frown marks his features with guilt and despair, “I-I don’t know what could be wrong with it…”
“Don’t worry,” James watches you tilt your head in a gesture of welcoming him inside, “we’ll can take a look for you,” if James thought you were pretty before, now he think you’re angelic – he can’t help but believe in your words fully and feel all his worries wash away, banished by the shine of your bright smile and warm gaze, “I’m sure we’ll get you back on the road in no time!”
Forget melting into a puddle, James was evaporating into mist! 
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The problem with Sirius’ Triumph Daytona 660 was that it ran out of fuel and James was too busy panicking and stressing over being a bad friend for breaking his promise. That was the good news, the bad news was that he totally just embarrassed himself in front of the cute motorbike mechanic AND now he has no reason to ever see you again! 
Desperate times call for desperate measures…  
…James faces his Suzuki SV650 with his well beloved hockey stick in hand. A sacrifice has to be made and he doesn’t mind it being his bike. Should he aim for the front light or the back? He read somewhere that submerging the engine in water whilst running it would get water in and the air intake wouldn’t be able to compress in the cylinders and end up bending the conrods and smashing the valves. The pool would work for that one.
James looks at his hockey stick again before making a final decision. He can do this for now and when you fix his bike, he can say he ‘accidentally rode his bike into his pool’. Yeah that would work! James raises his arms above his head, aiming for the front light of his Suzuki and takes a breath before swinging down—
“James!” Sirius’ panicked shout makes him seize up entirely, his powerful swing down paused mid-air, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” his best friend had been staying over and was wondering what he had been doing spending so much time in the garage and came walking into an unfathomable scene. 
“Uhhh…” I want to see the pretty mechanic again! 
“The ‘pretty’ what?” Sirius pulls a disbelieving face. This was all for a girl?... It’s not surprising considering the way James used to act around Lily but vandalising his own motorbike? 
Shit! I said that out loud.
“Yes, yes you did…” James can’t bring himself to answer. However, he didn’t have to as Sirius stalks over to the toolbox and grabs a wrench. He didn’t even need to explain himself. Both share a smile before beginning to do a number on his once very beloved Suzuki. 
“Thanks Siri,” panting, James wipes the sweat off his brow and faces his best friend with a boyish grin. Out of everyone else in the world, of course Sirius would have his back and not ask questions–
“Wait– why were you at the mechanics in the first place?”
“Uhhh….”
“James?...”
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A/N : like most of my timestamps, i wrote this incredibly sleep deprived but inspired and couldn't wait so here you darlings go <3 please forgive any spelling or grammatical mistakes and i hope you enjoy the fluff hehe~
NAVI.
TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt
@notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax @girl-detective16 @riaa-moony @ericityyy @ahukk0 @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
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Used (Part 2) (LN4)
Summary: Even in times of pain, they’ll find their way back to each other.
Warnings: very emotional, but happy happy ending, lando’s actually depressed its so sad, cisca norris to the rescue, oscar and lando are enemies for a while
Note: HII ITS HEREEE I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT I THINK ITS PRETTY SLAY? 🤞🏻
In the wake of Lando’s actions, Y/n was left with a broken heart and a hole in her stomach. Constant emptiness plagued her, contradicting the love that had once filled her for a boy who used her and took every inch of her.
She was quiet, once more. Lonely, once more. Oscar couldn’t do anything to remedy the pain she felt, neither could her parents or friends. Simply, she sat within herself, retracing all the memories they shared together.
On the other hand, Lando was faced with the consequences of his actions. While the public didn’t know what happened, they were aware something had gone down with Oscar’s hostile driving toward his teammate every time they found themselves together on a track. If it wasn’t because of that, it was because of the angry fights accidentally had between the two men fans consistently caught on their cameras. And if it wasn’t because of the fights, it was because of the disappearance of interviews. Both drivers not being seen in a room together for a good 4 weeks straight after a particularly aggressive video sourced online of Lando and Oscar shoving each other behind the McLaren Garage. Yelling at each other about something the camera couldn’t pick up on, but angry faces and hands flew about for minutes before Lando’s dad rounded the corner and split them up.
Nonetheless, when Lando went to bed at night, he didn’t think about the fights with Oscar or the negative press he was getting online. He thought of Y/n and only her. His mind replayed moments of her bright smile, a warm feeling lingering in his stomach before his hand drifted to the cold, empty side of his bed and reminded him of his loss. It was almost as if he mourned her. She no longer showed up to races and if she did, her appearances were strategically planned so as to not have the couple run into each other. He had pleaded with Charlotte, McLaren’s PR manager, to “somehow” slip up on their schedules, but she wouldn’t budge. What he didn’t know was that Charlotte had gotten an ear full from Oscar and his parents about how Y/n was not to see Lando. The poor girl had been utterly ruined by him and his extortion of her.
Whether he liked to admit it or not, Lando knew that.
He knew she would never be the same because he had been reckless, and he knew the chances of her ever even looking at him again were slim to none. Still, he allowed his soul and heart to continue being tied to her. If he was being honest with himself, his whole being would always be tied to her, whether she loved him or not.
He tried convincing Oscar of this, of his love for her, but the Australian just continued screaming.
“YOU’RE A DICK, YOU KNOW THAT?” His blonde hair tangled after tugging on it so much as Lando stood in the corner of the room, taking the punches because he deserved them.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Lando whispered, his hands curling in his pockets as his tears threatened to fall.
“SORRY? SORRY WILL NEVER CUT IT FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” His arms flailed around. Oscar’s own tears gracefully fell to the ground as his rage consumed him.
There was a moment as the two boys looked at each other, both broken to the core for 2 completely different reasons, yet over the same girl.
Sighing, Oscar stepped back before plopping onto the couch, “Why’d you do it?” He whispered, his head falling into his hands.
Lando came to sit beside him, “There’s no good reason, but the only thing I can tell you is that I have always loved her, since the moment I saw her. Martin’s bet gave me an excuse to fall back on if she rejected me like I thought she would. When she didn’t and we started going out, I tried to push it away. But, Martin kept calling me and texting me, taunting me with how me and her had actually started. Throughout it all, though, I love her. I continue to love her even though she refuses to see me and I still love her even though she’s blocked my number. I’m starting to think I always will. Love her, I mean.”
Oscar turned his head to the side, capturing the blue eyes of his teammate and the ones that were so clearly defeated, “Really? It wasn’t a joke to you?”
Lando shook his head immediately, “No, of course not. It never was. I tried to explain that to her when everything came out, but she wouldn’t listen. After she shut the door on me when she found out, I tried to knock and ask her to let me in, but I don’t think she heard me because all I heard on the other side was crying. Oscar, I’m so sorry for what I did. If I could take back how it started, I would, but I won’t, and will never, wish to take back the moments we shared together. Even now, when communication between us has stopped, the memories keep me going. Just the memories of her are enough for me. I’ll always be grateful to even have them with her, having been able to experience that kind of love with someone who reciprocated it is something I never expected to feel ever in my life.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have done it. I wish you would have just gotten with her naturally. I really thought you two would get married.” Oscar said slowly, trying to let Lando down easily.
However, Oscar’s attempts failed as the sorrow hit Lando all over again. Flashes of the night when she opened up to him under the sky bounced around in his mind as he wondered what it would have been like to marry her, spend a lifetime with her.
Wiping a hand over his face to conceal the physical signs of his despair, Lando averted his eyes from the boy that reminded him too much of her, “Yeah, me too.”
“Y/n?” Her mother’s voice filtered through the door.
She shifted under the blankets, groaning quietly at the disturbance, but her mother’s next words made her falter.
“Mrs. Norris is here to see you if you’re up for it.” The door creaked open before soft footsteps made their way to her bed, the mattress dipping before a hand came to rest on her side.
In the time she and Lando spent together, Cisca became like a second mother to Y/n. Whether the woman intended for it or not, her soft-spoken voice and gentle, motherly touch had filled Y/n with comfort during times of self-confliction or arguments with Lando or the other men in her life.
“Hi, darling.” Her hand rubbed slowly up and down her torso as Y/n untangled herself from her blankets, sitting up to meet the older woman’s eye.
“Mrs. Norris, it’s so nice to see you.” Her smile wasn’t as big as it used to be, Cisca noted.
Giggling, she smoothed a hand down Y/n’s cheek, “Even after all this time, you still call me ‘Mrs. Norris’”.
They laughed together for a second before silence overtook the moment and Cisca was watching Y/n retreat back into her heartbreak.
Her small voice cut through the stillness, “I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Y/n’s head tilted to the side as she pleaded with Lando’s mother to not begin this conversation, for the sake of her healing process. However, Cisca knew, deep down, that this conversation would do more good than bad.
So, she continued.
“He won’t talk about you. He shuts down the moment we mention your name.” Cisca took Y/n’s hands in hers, cradling them as she had cradled her son the night Y/n had blocked his number. Lando had shown up unannounced at his parents’ home, clutching his phone in his hands as if it was the only thing anchoring him. The moment she had opened the door, his eyes told every bit of pain he had tried to force down as he convinced himself he wasn’t allowed to feel grief if he was the one having screwed it all up. His legs gave out and he had fallen into the safe embrace of his mother, clutching onto her as he rambled about losing Y/n. Cisca had brought him into the house and sat with him on the couch all night as he poured his heart out to her, tears and all.
He didn’t leave their house for a week after that.
Now, she sat with the girl who had destroyed her son, just as he had destroyed her. Prepared to try and reconcile something so beautiful.
“If he loved me, he wouldn’t have done it.”
Cisca nodded, completely agreeing with Y/n’s logic, “I understand, but Y/n, we both know this is much more complicated. You two have loved each other for a long time. I would even say from the moment you first met, but I won’t speak for you. When he said he loved you, he meant it. From the start. Yes, he messed up and did something I did not raise him to do. However, Y/n,” Cisca’s hand moved to turn Y/n’s face, forcing her to look his mother in her eyes, “I know my son and I know when he’s gone for someone. He’s utterly gone for you. Hell, he’s so lost without you, the boy can’t even tie his own shoes.”
Cisca wiped away the tears Y/n didn’t even know were falling before the girl in bed whispered, “But, what if he hurts me again?”
Sighing, Lando’s mother scooched to squeeze on the bed beside Y/n, putting her arm around the girl and hugging her into her side, “I know it’s hard, but just give him a chance, yeah? He betrayed your trust and a lot of other things, so it will be difficult to let him in again. But, and this is hard to understand because he was your first everything, what you two had was unlike anything I have ever seen in my entire life and I’ve been married to his father for years. The way you two understood each other was on a level that I think would be a shame to not fight for. You were good for him, really good, and I wouldn’t be a good mother if I didn’t do everything I could to make my child happy again. It just so happens that, in this case, it would also benefit the person he was in love with too.”
Nodding, Y/n hugged the woman tighter, “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”
Seeing as her job was done, Cisca got up and made her move toward the door, but not before she stopped to turn around and look Y/n in the eye once more, “When you talk to him, be gentle, okay? I know it sounds stupid because he should be being gentle with you after everything he pulled, but you don’t know how hard he’s beaten himself up over this. There are only a handful of times in motherhood where you will see your child grieve so hard over someone, they vomit. It’s hard to watch your son destroy who he is because he loved so hard. If you won’t do it for him, do it for me. There’s only so much a mother can take when it comes to seeing her child in pain.”
Y/n smiled lightly as she promised the woman she would be soft with the man she loved.
The man she loves.
“Can you at least shower?” Max asked softly as Lando curled further into his bed.
Sniffling, Lando mumbled, “There’s no one to smell good for. Don’t see the point.”
Max rubbed a hand over his face, hating how his best friend had become the shell of a human, “Lando, it’s for your own health. Please, it’ll be good for you. You haven’t gotten out of bed for a week. I’m worried about you, mate.”
“I don’t ca-” Lando started, but was interrupted by a knock on their front door.
Max’s gaze shifted between his best friend and the slab of wood, not wanting to let Lando leave his sight, yet knowing he needed to open it. He exhaled a breath as he stole a quick glance at the body under all the lumps of blankets before making his way to the door.
Opening it, he sighed in relief at the sight of Y/n, the remedy for his best friend’s turmoil.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but I think it’s for a good reason. I hope it’s for a good reason.” He said as he let her in.
She smiled at him, still a bit nervous to see Lando, but relieved she had finally gone through with it this time.
“Is he here?” She asked quietly.
Max laughed, “Is he here? Yeah, he has been for the last eternity.”
She cringed before making her way toward his room, inhaling a breath before opening the door.
“Max, I’m serious. Leave me alone.” He said, annoyed, from under his pillow. She couldn’t help the smile that took over her face at his voice and common stubbornness. She had missed him like the ocean missed the sun when it disappeared in the night. Missing his soft touches, hushed kisses of warmth, and the light he continually exuded on both good and bad days.
“Lando, it’s me.” She said as she rounded his bed, sitting down on the side of it.
He froze. His brain tried to convince him he was going clinically insane, no longer seeing her in his head but hearing her in his room. However, his heart contradicted the argument when he felt the bed dip and he just knew. He knew it was really her by the way his skin lit up at the close proximity and his breath stopped for a moment before filling his lungs once more like life was returning to his body.
He lowered the blankets. Her face coming into view almost had him breaking down, but this newfound chance at redemption had his brain short-circuiting, and crying so hard he couldn’t speak didn’t seem like a good plan.
“Y/n…” His tone was subdued as if she was an angel, completely struck by her and her existence.
Her hand reached out to caress his cheek. The igniting touch had color pumping through his body again as he leaned into her touch, seemingly reconnecting with his lifeline.
“I thought we could talk.” She said as his eyes fluttered closed, her thumb rubbing circles over his cheekbone.
“Of course,” He said breathlessly, enamored by her and the way she made him feel.
She giggled, a sound that Lando was etching into his brain as if he was going to lose it again, “Okay, but you’ll have to open your eyes for that to happen, Lan.”
He blushed at the nickname. The last time she had called him the shortened name was when she was confronting him over what he had done. The reminder of the moment when she walked out on him hit him hard. He stared at her, scared she had only come back to him to give him a taste of what he could’ve had only to take it away once more.
She must have realized his agony because she was grabbing his hand with hers, coaxing him away from the dark place to come back to her, in the now. The funny part was that she didn’t need to physically bring him back, he would always return to her just by the comforting presence of the person he fell in love with.
“Dating me because of a bet hurt like hell. I thought I would never come back from that kind of pain, but as I rotted away in my room, I realized that, even though you had hurt me so deeply, I still loved you. It took me time to understand what that meant seeing as you have been my first love, my first everything, but I think I’ve got it down, now.” She squeezed his hand as their eyes welled together, “Even though those times we spent together had been created under such a gross circumstance, I wouldn’t want to forget them. Ever. Because I love you, Lan. I was talking to my mom and she explained to me that giving people second chances isn’t always a bad choice, if they’re good for you. That’s when it clicked for me. Giving you a second chance is a no-brainer because you’ve never wronged me before. I fell in love with you and when you fell in love with me, you always showed up. Even when I found out about the bet, you still showed up. You stayed on the other side of Oscar’s Driver’s Room door, asking me to come in before he showed up and forced you away. You’ve always been there for me, always secretly supported me, and wished the best for me even when I rejected you completely. Over this time by myself, I came to the conclusion that I don’t want anyone else to root for me on the sidelines other than you.”
His arms had found their way to her, loosely circling around her waist as he tested the waters. When she didn’t push him away, when her arms twisted around his neck, he leaned in. What she thought would be a kiss was actually a bone-crushing hug that was, surprisingly, way more intimate than any kiss he could have planted on her at that moment. His tears wetted her shirt and hers did the same to him as he whispered how much he loved her in her ear. Softly, he explained to her just how much she made his heart stop, “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could go back in time and treat you with respect. I’m so sorry for what I did and for what I put you through, my love. The thing that was so scary for me when I realized how much I loved you was that you had always been in front of me. Like, you’d been standing right in front of me for years before I understood who I needed you to be to me. I never thought that one singular person could change the course of my life and how I lived it let alone someone I had known for so long, but it’s always been you. I’m not sure if you always felt that same way about me, but I have. Once I began looking to you when shit in my life hit the fan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to love anyone the way I love you. It would always have to be you because, if it wasn’t, there’d be no one else to fulfill me the way you have. You came into my life and flipped it right side up, not upside down.”
When his hushed words ended in her ear, she pulled away. Tears tracing the outside of her lips, she scratched at the hair at his nape, something she knew he always loved.
Realizing that he had never fully lost her, Lando whispered an “I love you” before smoothing the hair out of her face.
When he was finally able to see his favorite face, only then did he kiss her.
End.
Tags (thank you for the sweet comments): @tpwkstiles @lqvesoph @hearts4joao @flwr-stella @formula1mount @405rry @msliz @gaslysainz @summerslike11
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brummiereader · 28 days
Text
MASTERLIST PART TWO
Unchained Melody (Part Three)
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Summary: As an uncomfortable tension settles between you both the next day, Tommy finally musters up enough courage to say what needs to be said, only to be interrupted by a scornful Governess, then two unexpected visitors later that day. But as night descends on Arrow House and your guests return to their homes, your husband tells you of the uncomfortable reality, and turmoil you had left him in as he drowns himself in his most reliable friend, and remedy to numb the pain. Whisky.
Warnings: Language, angst, postpartum depression, mutual pining
Word Count: 5291
Authors note: A quieter chapter before things finally come to a head after an eventful, terrifying day in the next part.
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Two days. You had been back for a total of two, full days. Not only had you and Tommy been avoiding the hard discussion that desperately needed to take place, you had learnt that the Governess who was hired to care for your son had also been keeping your husband company. Or to be more accurate, keeping him company in the martial bed you once shared. You didn't think it possible your heart could ache anymore until last night when your eyes landed on Tommy's sheepish gaze staring back at you as you left your son's nursery, and you came face to face with not only his disheveled appearance but his belt shamelessly unbuckled as the Governess sauntered from the dimly lit room they had both left. It didn't take much for you to come to the anguished realisation of what had occurred in your absence as you tormented yourself for the remainder of the evening with images of your husband making love to the woman you felt had replaced you, all while a painful nagging of self- conscious thoughts plagued your sleepless night.
Did she satisfy him better than you ever did? Was her body more attractive to him than yours? Did he...love her? As a barrage of unstoppable questions you had no answers for other than the ones your worried mind could conjure up, you dragged your shaky body timidly down the winding staircase the next morning, every part of you fearing you would break down into a puddle of pitiful tears for the hundredth time once again.
You were weeks, if not days from having enough willpower to return to Arrow House, you'd tell yourself. Whether you truthfully believed it or not, it was the sole dream you held onto, wishfully hoping your husband hadn't forgotten you, praying he and your son would show you mercy if you ever returned to them. How could you have been so selfish to think he would've waited? That he wouldn't have moved on? You thought to yourself as you scrambled to piece together your shattered heart from the embarrassment you felt for being so foolish. Your place in the grand house you once called your home was thoroughly understood. You were now, the other woman.
Smoothing down the front of your dress, you closed your eyes, desperately trying to compose yourself before you entered the dining room and let your true feelings slip.
"Good morning Mrs Shelby, some tea perhaps?" Frances greeted you, stood next to William cutting his toast into smaller, toddler-sized pieces as you entered the room. Mrs Shelby...Was you still? You thought to yourself as you walked to the end of the large mahogany table with Tommy sat at the head, looking at the end of the burning cigarette resting between his fingers, anywhere but you, anywhere that would hide the shame in his eyes and the regret uncomfortably wrapped around his chest.
" Yes, thank you, Frances" you answered quietly as you looked to the seat beside Tommy. Your seat. The seat saved solely for the lady of the house. A simple, once mundane decision as to where to sit suddenly felt like the most cementing finality to your broken marriage. Forgoing the position you once held, you made your way around the table to sit next to your son as Tommy's eyes flew up, darting to the unoccupied chair next to him then back to you, huffing as he stubbed his cigarette out into the glass ashtray. What did he expect? Tommy, the man always a step ahead of everyone else, couldn't fathom that someone couldn't just soldier on like him, ignoring the fragility of such a situation, and have things left unspoken without resolution.
With his tired body relenting to yet another issue that needed to be faced, he slouched into the frame of his seat as he turned his head away, running his hand down his tired features as a headache from guzzling half a bottle of whisky in an attempt to numb his guilt the previous night started to thump furiously across his forehead. He too, hadn't slept.
" William, eat your toast son" Tommy said clearing his throat as he sat up noisily unfolding his newspaper whilst staring at you, trying to garner your attention and have you finally look his way. But with your refusal to do so, a mutual silence descended between you both as you tended to your son and ignored your husband's blatant attempts to show you how unhappy he was with your choice of seats. Was he looking for an argument? Was that what he wanted, a slagging match to tally up who was more in the wrong?
" Some more water for your tea Mam" Frances said as she walked in and placed a floral china teapot in front of you as Tommy looked over his newspaper, stealing another glance before furrowing his brow and returning his eyes to the first line of the business collum he had read, and re-read at least ten times already.
The latest happenings in the world of finance that would normally have him buried deep in thought each morning held little to zero interest as his worries drifted to what you were thinking, occupying every space in his restless mind. Did you think he was still having sex with her? That she had replaced you? That he loved her? Tommy nervously thought to himself as his paper lowered, and he watched your lips graze over the porcelain cup in your hand as a dusting of particles illuminated by the morning sun glittered gracefully around you. Captured once again, Tommy's feelings of melancholy that once shrouded him suddenly subsided and an urgent need for reconciliation swept over him as his fingers inadvertently inched across the freshly laid table cloth closer to your hand.
"Y/N, can we tal..." he said apprehensively as you finally looked up to see the anguish engulfing his tired face when the door flew open and the Governess strode in, quickly causing him to snatch his hand away.
" Frances, tea" she demanded looking to Tommy giving him a smirk as he glared at her, his jaw tightening within seconds at the mere sight of her smug face.
" Staff eat down in the kitchen, unless invited otherwise" Tommy mumbled, lifting his newspaper as the tension that had slowly simmered between you both came thundering back tenfold into a suffocating pressure that was weighing the room down. Fuck, she needed to go. Tommy thought to himself as she sat down beside him without a care, taking your place once again, thinking she had the upper hand in the situation. Her little stunt filled with veiled threats the previous night had Tommy calling up and down the country all morning gathering as much information as he could on who she was, and her own little secrets she wished to keep from seeing the light of day. Brazen enough to make such threats, Tommy was no fool to think she hadn't safeguarded the intel she had acquired on him. And until he had dealt with whoever had been entrusted with said information, be it family or friend, her unwelcome presence in the house would have to be begrudgingly endured.
" Mummy" William smiled up at you with jammy cheeks, and a single toothy smile whilst kicking his legs back and forth, single handily bringing a smile to your face and a distraction from the frosty stare the Governess sat across from you was sending your way.
" Hi sweetheart..." You replied quietly, running your fingers across his plump cheek as a tear settled on your lashes, never tiring from hearing the sweetest of words spoken to you.
" Don't talk with your mouth full William" the governess barked, breaking the tender moment between you both and shocking you out of the one delight you felt you were allowed to enjoy.
" Give it a rest, would you? He's two bloody years old" Tommy snapped back, having had enough of her overbearing, over-controlling attitude towards his son, your son. Why the hell did he even go there, with her? Tommy thought to himself, wondering if it wouldn't be easier to just throw her in the cut.
" More, more, more" William's little voice squeaked as he pointed enthusiastically to the glass dish of strawberry jam in the center of the table as a quiet chuckle left Tommy's lips and a smile graced your own at his sheer determination, and the learnt knowledge of his sweet tooth he could have only inherited from one person.Tommy.
Reaching for the jam, you pulled it towards you when a hand suddenly grabbed the opposite end, sharply pulling it back into the middle of the table.
" Do you want him bouncing of the walls, hm? Did you eat a lot of sugar when you nursed him? That certainly explains a lot" The governess peered down at you, not giving you an opportunity to reply before coming to her own judgment as you recalled into the back of your seat and a sudden surge of self-doubt engulfed your stomach, your ability to be a mother suddenly brought into question over something so meaningless as a second serving of jam. As your eyes cast down at the cold cup of tea in front of you, every interaction you had had with your son since your return had the feelings of inadequacy that once darkened your mind seep rapidly back into your fragile thoughts.
As you shrank into yourself, numb of William pulling at the sleeve of your dress while the Governess continued her barrage of unwarranted parenting knowledge, Tommy watched as your tearful eyes looked up at him, pulling at his heart until he could no longer withstand the torment of seeing you look so vulnerable. Throwing his newspaper onto the empty plate in front of him, Tommy abruptly stood up, glaring at the Governess as his teeth grounded down onto eachother. Her overstepping into the role you solely held as William's mother getting on his last, and final nerve.
" It's just fucking jam!" Tommy's voice rose, reaching over the table placing the small bowl in front of William as the Governess lips pursed together, and she folded her arms in annoyance that her lecture had gone ignored. "Enjoy my boy" Tommy said walking behind your son, placing a tender kiss to the crown of his head as he looked to you before swiftly leaving the room with some urgent calls to be made, and preferably an anchor and rope to be ordered.
" Well..." The governess scoffed as her eyes darted from the slamming of the dining room door to you, glaring at you up and down. "You certainly have soured his mood. And to think he was finally starting to enjoy life again" she commented as her fingers curled around the cup in her hand, sowing yet another dousing of blame into your troubled mind. Was she right? Had your unexpected return thrown Tommy's apparent newly founded happiness into chaos?
Sat at the living room bay window with a book resting in your hands you had little to no interest in, your eyes darted up from the pages to see your husband outside patting down one of his newest race horses on the freshly pruned grass. Tommy always had been stubborn about anything that would show the slightest ounce of vulnerability in him. So to see him occupying himself with a four-legged creature rather than any two-legged human that could neither, answer back, nor confront him came as no surprise.
Returning to the pages of your book, Tommy, who had chosen the most unusual of spots to inspect his horse, that just so happened to be in viewing distance of you, couldn't help but glance up every other second to get a quick glimpse of you all while internally berating himself for acting like some nervous teen boy psyching himself up to talk to his crush. With a heavy sigh leaving his throat, Tommy looked your way, throwing his cigarette onto the grass with determination to have his thoughts settled once and for all, and finally discuss what needed to be said. But just as you looked up to see Tommy striding towards you, his mustered up courage to have the conversation he had been avoiding took another blow as a car screeched around the corner, interrupting him once again.
" Where is she Tommy?" Polly demanded to know as Esme slammed the car door behind her and they both marched up to the house without the slightest of greetings to him.
" Fuck sake" he mumbled under his breath pointing to the house as you abruptly stood up, bracing yourself for what was to come while your eyes darted to your husband leading his horse away and the living room door seconds away from being thrown open.
" Esme..would you..bloody hell..." Polly grunted, as they pushed past one another through the door frame, when the Lee girl slipped through first and came running up to you. Stepping back your eyes widened, readying yourself for the inevitable, only to be quickly welcomed into a tight hug.
" Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" She said, wrapping her arms around you as your body relaxed into hers and tears began to streak your face.
" Es, I...I don't know. I'm so sorry" you cried as she cupped your cheeks, brushing your tears away with her thumbs whilst you internally scolded yourself for not opening up to the friend that had become a sister, and most cherished supporting hand throughout your pregnancy and labour.
" I would have come with you. God knows I need a bloody break" she stifled her tears with a laugh, pulling you back into her arms as you reached your hand out for Polly who was stood behind her, her trembling hands hovering over the smile beaming across her face.
" I told him, I told you all" Polly said with tears welling in her eyes as she pulled you into a hug, stroking the hair away from your face as you cried into her shoulder. " I checked, I made sure" she said closing her eyes as she clutched the black Madonna around her neck, silently thanking her ancestor's guidance. " Look at you" she said cupping your face as she pressed a longing kiss to your forehead, relief sweeping over her that you was still in one piece. "Come let's sit, before we all lose our footing" she said sniffing back her tears as she linked her arm into yours and led you to the two large cushioned sofas in the middle of the room.
" Where's William?" Esme asked as she looked around the grand sitting area only to see his toys scattered along the floor.
" With the Governess" you said, diverting your eyes as Polly shot Esme a sharp look, or rather, a warning.
" ABCs and 123s, he's two years old for god's sake. Should be out with the horses, in the mud and the meadows, not stuck between four walls. Never did me any harm" Esme huffed as she let her tired body and aching back from another baby weighing down her stomach fall into the feathered stuffed sofa. "What was Tommy thinking hiring that witch?"
" Esme!" Polly warned her as she looked back to you with a tight smile, holding your hand within her own. "Tommy hasn't been in his right mind for a long time"
" It's ok, I know they're together" you said biting, your bottom lip as you looked to the mantel place. Your pictures with him still sitting there neatly one by one. Memories stuck in a flash of a moment, cruelly tormenting you for what you had given up, and what you desperately longed for once again.
" Together? Whoever told you that?" Polly asked, furrowing her brow. " Love, as crude as it is, Tommy... Well I don't think there was ever any feelin..."
" It's ok Polly, It really is" you said cutting her off, trying to reassure yourself and subsequently avoid any further discussion on the topic that had consumed all your thoughts of late. " I burst their happy little bubble"
"Don't think the crate of whisky he has my John bring to his office door once a week, like some bloody delivery boy would agree with you" Esme said less than tactfully as Polly's head snapped to her. "What?" She said bewildered as to why Polly's eyes were suddenly boring into her very soul.
"Esme, why don't you go get us something to eat? Biscuits perhaps" Polly said as your sister-in-law furrowed her brow, crossing her arms.
" Biscuits?" Esme asked frowning, like it was the most bizarre, most confusing of questions to ask someone.
" Yes, bloody biscuits. And a bottle of whisky" she said as Esme stood up with a huff. "The good stuff, he keeps hidden in his office cabinet!" Polly called out as Esme waved her hand above her head mumbling to herself before shutting the door.
" Oh love" Polly said, moving her attention back to you with a heavy look of worry as she stared into your eyes, only sadness and shame to be found in them. "Why didn't you come to me?"
" I was scared you'd judge me Polly, that I couldn't cope when every other woman around me makes it look so easy" you sobbed as she pulled you into your arms.
" God knows there were moments when I wanted to run from it all, Esme too. The only difference between us is, you battled through when we buckled. You didn't have to love, we were here for you. We would have held you up" she said, holding you In front of her as she dabbed your tears from your cheeks. " Your pain is my pain. I would have walked the lonely path of motherhood with you, holding your hand all the way" she finished, cupping your cheeks when Esme walked in with a large cake on a polished silver tray, and one of the finest bottles of whisky Tommy possessed tucked safely under her arm.
" No biscuits, but I found another one of these fucking cakes again" Esme huffed from holding the heavy monstrosity in her hands.
" Give me the knife " Polly demanded with her hand out, her brow raised as she waited.
" Don't think I'm capable of cutting a bloody cake, Polly?"
"Esme" Polly's eyes narrowed in, their once mutual disdain for each other now a daily power play of Polly trying to assert herself over her nephews wild hearted wife.
"Shelby's. Stubborn, the lot of you" she said handing the knife over as she sent you a quick smile." So, you and Tommy had it out yet? " Esme asked, curious as to where you both stood with each other now you had returned.
"I think he tried to. At one point" you replied, recalling the brief moment in the dining room before the Governess barged in, interrupting his chances. " He won't forgive me, I know he wont"
" You focus on little William for now, Tommy can wait. It may do him so good to mull things over, before he says something pigheaded " Polly said handing you slice of cake. She and Esme may bash heads on many things, but the inherited trait of stubbornness was something she couldn't deny. And unfortunately for you, Tommy's headstrong, unyielding nature was the vain of the whole family's existence.
" I can't stomach anymore of it" Esme said, refusing her plate as she made a beeline for the whisky instead.
" God, me neither" Polly agreed, dropping the knife as she took Esme's glass tumbler from her.
" Why, what's wrong with it?" You asked inspecting it, noting it's familiarity to the cake you would often bake.
" Oh, you didn't know?" Polly smiled as she sat back in her chair, her eyes playfully glimmering from the amber liquid bouncing off the sides of the crystal glass in her hand " Every Saturday Tommy insists on that bloody fruit cake you used to bake that weighed more than a newborn baby on being made. He sends that poor old cook up and down the country in search of the ingredient Tommy insists is missing"
" He hated my fruit cake" you chuckled, looking down at the plate in your hand as the memory of happier times when you had become adamant on perfecting your baking skills before the birth of William on a reluctant Tommy flooded your thoughts.
"He still does. But it was a little part of you he couldn't part with" she winked at you as she poured herself another glass of whisky. " I'm starting to think he just enjoys watching the torment on Mr Giles face as the kitchen staff gather around to hear his weekly verdict every Saturday evening" Polly laughed into her drink at her nephews dry sense of fun, and the growing stockpile of cake enough to build a small house stored in the pantry." Why don't you bake him one?"
" Polly, I don't think a cake will fix this" you sighed, casting your eyes down to your lap when she cupped the side of your cheek, turning it to face her glistening hazel eyes.
"No. But it might make him smile. And that would be a sight"
As you said your goodbyes to Polly and Esme out in the grand foyer, grateful for the afternoon you had spent with them and their comforting words, Tommy stood watching by the front door, a pang of jealousy settling in his chest at everyone's ease with you like no time had passed, and mounting frustration with himself that he couldn't do the same.
" All is forgotten then, eh?" Tommy said in passing as the sound of the front door closed, his spite quickly finding a way to weave itself back into the iron cast wall he had slowly let down as he sulked off to his office once again, leaving you with his dampened mood for a fresh crate of whisky waiting for him.
One and a half years ago...
" Tommy this has to stop" Polly said, hovering over his desk, her nephew's head buried deep in a stack of maps, newspaper clippings and letters.
" Not now, Pol" Tommy replied, stubbing his cigarette out before returning to the large plan of Birmingham's canal system on his desk. Wide-eyed and restless. Polly was certain he hadn't slept in days, if not weeks.
" Enough Tommy!" She shouted, trying to snap him out of his madness as she snatched the large map away from him, her eyes pleading with him to give up, to rest.
" I will not fucking stop! Do you hear me?! I will not stop until her body is found!" He bellowed, pointing his finger into the desk as tears welled in his eyes and his face reddened with fury. "Just leave Polly...Go" he sighed, pinching the skin between his brows, his tired body unable to keep up with another argument with his Aunt, and his relentless search for you.
" There's no body to be found Thomas" Polly said as he walked around his desk grabbing the map from her hands before dropping into the sofa and pouring himself not a finger, not even two, but a whole glass of whisky. " Enough!" She said, marching over to him, throwing the remainder of the bottles contents into the fire place before crouching down in front of him. " You can't dull it forever Tommy. You have to listen to me, she's not passed over"
" Polly Stop" Tommy replied, burying his hands into his hair, scrapping his nails along his scalp at the stress tightening around his skull.
" You won't find anything"
" Polly stop, stop STOP!" Tommy's voice crescendoed until a sob of cries left his lips and his shoulders slouched over his body, drained of any rational thought left. " She's dead Pol" Tommy said looking up to his Aunt with an empty, lifeless stare as his hands fell down onto his thighs. Drunk, beaten down and hollow. Tommy had not an ounce of will to carry on. The second half of him was gone, and if it wasn't for William, he would have gladly welcomed the sweet release of death and joined you if it had brought him peace, and you back into his arms. "She's fucking dead..."
As you rummaged through the kitchen cabinets in search of a bottle of brandy you were certain was the missing ingredient from your fruit cake Tommy had ordered Mr Giles to bake every weekend in your absence, a loud crash quickly followed by your husband shouting every blasphemy known to man had you jumping away from the cupboards, and your own choice of profanities quickly leaving your lips.
" Shit!" you heard Tommy mumble as you slowly approached his office door to see him steadying himself with one hand on his desk as he poured the remaining contents of a bottle of whisky into a glass while blood dripped from an open cut on his hand. " What the fuck you looking at, eh?" Tommy said stumbling back and forth as he pointed at the large portrait of himself hung in his office. "Dickhead"
Just go to bed Tommy. You silently pleaded, watching him ease himself into his leather chair as he buried his head in his hand, replaying every moment from the day you had left to every hour he would spend trying to find your body over and over again in his head, letting his emotions fester inside, clinging onto them in an attempt to change their outcome. Watching him reach for another bottle of whisky, you opened the door and walked in, fearing he would drink until he passed out.
" Is everything ok? I heard a noise" You said, looking around his usually immaculate office stacked with paperwork and broken furniture.
" Fucking fantastic sweetheart " Tommy replied, trying to unscrew the cap of the bottle as you carefully walked around a smashed lamp on the ground you could only assume got in his way. " Fuck..." Tommy sighed, his injured hand rendering his attempts to open the large whisky bottle useless. Removing the satin belt around your dressing gown, you took his hand, gently wrapping the soft fabric around the deep gash across his knuckles as Tommy watched on in silence, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as your delicate touch stirred his unwanted emotions once again.
" There" you said letting go, waiting for him to say something, anything to break the palpable silence that had descended between you both as his eyes roamed down your body, and he opened mouth to say something pigheaded, exactly as his Aunt had predicted had he not been left alone to wallow in his own self pity.
" Do you wanna fuck?"
" Jesus Christ...get some sleep Tommy" you sighed, shaking your head as you turned for the door. He had every right to be angry at you, but this, this you didn't have to deal with. A drunken Tommy was an unreasonable man, and you now regrettably wished you had let him drink himself to sleep, and pass out on the floor.
" No? Thought it would stop me from hating you so much" he stated coldly as you came to a stop, his words piercing you as deep as he had intended them to.
" You already have someone that's been keeping your bed warm, our bed warm. Don't you Tommy?" You said, unable to keep your bitterness contained any longer as you turned to face him, and he came to face the outcome of his harsh words streaming down your cheeks.
" I shared our bed with nobody Y/N" Tommy pointed to you as he stood up, taking the large map he had mulled over for the past two years from his desk as he walked past you to the fire. There was no lie in his words. Never once had he tarnished the most intimate part of what was left of you. No matter what he had done to dull his grief in the past, every night Tommy would faithfully return to your martial bed unaccompanied, desperately holding onto the memory of your body wrapped warmly in his arms. " I thought you were dead" he said, the vows he had made to stay faithful unknowingly severed, crushing him more than any broken promise he had ever made.
" I know" you sobbed as you slowly approached and stood beside him, welcoming the comforting warmth from the fireplace as you looked into the towering orange flames and crackling wood burning below them.
" Do you know how long I looked for you?" He said, glancing up at you as you shook your head, feeling a surge of nervousness at where the conversation was suddenly going. "One year, six months and twenty two days" he said, throwing the folded document into the fire, watching the hours he had spent mapping each river, each stream and every canal burn into ash.
" Tommy...I'm so sorry. I should never have let you think that I was dead" you apologised, brushing your tears away as Tommy's stare stayed fixed on the last piece of paper melting away.
" Searched every forest, every train track until the only thing that was left was the waters, hoping your body hadn't been swept out to sea" his voice grew louder as his anger began to pump furiously beneath his skin.
" Tommy please..." you pleaded as your eyes welled with tears once again, trying to turn his stiffened frame to face you as his hand tightened around the intricately carved mantel, his knuckles turning opaque from the heat rapidly coursing through his veins.
"Polly put an end to it. Had my men stop me from leaving my own house for weeks on end. My own fucking house!" He continued, slamming his fist into the wood with a strong enough blow to split it, leaving a fractured line running permanently through the middle.
" Tom stop, please!" You begged him, trying to pull him away from the raging flames, from the raging fire within him.
" Enough!" he shouted as his hand came up to strike you when your eyes widened and he stopped himself, stumbling back in horror at the terror on your face. "Fuck!" He bellowed from the depths of his lungs, turning away to the door to hide the tears welling in his eyes and the shame on his face.
" Tommy, It's...it's ok. It's ok" You cried slowly approaching him, your body trembling with each step. " Let's sit down, and talk. Yeh?" Your shaky voice tried to reason with him as your hand brushed gently over his shoulder, coming to rest in the middle of his back.
" Now you want to talk, eh? he said, choking out a stifled breath as he brushed his tears away before turning to face your silent pleas to stay. "I'm afraid..." he sighed, bringing his hand up to stroke along your cheek as your fingers held tightly onto the front of his shirt came up to cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "...I'm afraid you may be too late my darling" Tommy said scrunching his eyes closed as his lips hovered over yours, your sobs intensifying into hopeless cries before he pulled your hands off him and left without another word.
Fear of you leaving him again, fear of never being able to forgive you. Tommy Shelby, the most feared gangster in Birmingham, was in fact a man scared, a man so conflicted with the most vulnerable of feelings he had pushed down to the very depths of his heart for the past two years. Love. His broken heart still madly, still deeply in love with the one and only woman of his life. You.
PART FOUR
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wxnheart · 9 months
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Worshipping him.
Admiring his body, your eyes sparkling with wonderment and love.
Leaving him flustered under your gaze; you make him feel beautiful. You make him feel sexy. You make him feel... safe. And loved. So damn safe. So damn loved.
His body is a canvas made of stories, some good and others downright horrifying. And with every ridge and scar your fingers run across, you hear them again. You never tire of hearing them.
Cupping his cheek, a cheek that's seen a fist or felt the sting of a slap more than it has the warmth of a kiss. You remedy this. You'll always remedy this.
Running your thumb over his lips. A kind or vulnerable word may seem few and far between with some people, but you know that when he speaks them, it's genuine. It comes from the heart. You feel the gentle pressure of his kiss against your finger and god, he's so fucking beautiful—
Resting your palm over his heart. A heart that beats strong and steady, a heart that's experienced so much pain and suffering, that's been broken more times than you two can count and he's always had to pick the pieces up and glue them together himself. A heart that dares to be vulnerable, to open up and love in its own gruff way. A heart you wish you could make anew but can only try your damndest not to break again. And he believes you. He'll always believe you.
You worship him and he falls deeper into you...
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sdr2lovemail · 3 months
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Could you write something about Sun and Moon being irritated/jealous that they can't kiss the reader (the maintenance worker one) with their mouths like a human can so the reader shows them about all the other ways to kiss? Like kissing Sun's hand up his arm to his cheek until he is giggling so loudly Vanessa thinks he's gone off his rocker, or gently kissing Moon's forehead all the way down to where his heart would be? Even better if the maintenance reader leaves behind little lipstick marks on their face for Monty and the gang to laugh about :D
Inspired by that one tumblr post about a guy walking out with a few lipstick kiss marks and then saying "you should see what they did to the other guy" in a stereotypical mobster voice before said other guy drunkenly walks out absolutely covered in lipstick marks, sfw of course I want Fluff I want Affection I want Lovey Dovey-ness if you think you could swing it, just the softest silliest thing you can write, and keep up the good work anywho :')
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I have no mouth, and I must kiss. (GN Reader but they do wear lipstick) Synopsis: After a play full of heartbreak and tragedy, Sun realizes that he'll never be able to kiss you. You remedy the situation.
Notes: It's been almost 2 years since I've written a fnaf fic, I feel rusty. Help wanted 2 got me calling my old mans' numbers. That's a joke they never left my phone. Anon if you're still out there, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labors.
Requests are open!
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Children are very persuasive. While you originally came to the daycare to fix a broken screen, you’ve ended up in a play. Decked out with a foam sword, you act as the story’s brave knight. Once you’ve slain the dragon, a kid wearing a Monty hood, your princess awaits.
“My dear knight! You saved me from the evil dragon!” Sun swoons. Instead of his waist frills, he’s worn a bright yellow skirt. Dangling from a few of his rays was a princess cap. The bells on his wrist jingle as he clasps his hands. “Is there any way I can repay you?”
You press a hand against your heart and bow your head. “There is no need, Princess. Protecting you is my sworn duty.” You’d say your acting wasn’t half bad for an underpaid maintenance worker.
“The princess has to kiss the knight!” A kid called from the audience.
Sun felt rigid like his joints were locking up. He hoped you couldn’t hear his fans kicking on as his body temperature rose. He would love to kiss you but wanted the moment to be perfect. “N-now friend, we don-”
“Mr. Sun can’t kiss them! He doesn’t have a mouth!” Another kid argued. Something about what they said made Sun feel weird.
“Yes, he does! It just can’t open.” 
Sun lets out a huff, turning to you. “They’re getting cranky. It must be snack time. I’ll pass them out quickly. That way, we can spend time together!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eager for you to stick around.
Your fazwatch pings with an alert: a S.T.A.F.F. bot got stuck in Monty Golf. “Oh, sorry, Sun. I have another job to do. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Sun would be frowning if his faceplate could move. He quickly perks up and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Right! Right, right, right, you have a job. Responsibilities! I’ll- I’ll see you at closing. Buh-bye, friend!” The jester waves you goodbye before sighing, hurrying to pass out snacks before someone throws a tantrum.
The rest of your day goes as smoothly as working as the Pizza Plex could be. It was after closing time, and you were doing your final tasks. The glamrocks were in their rooms, the S.T.A.F.F bots were on their set paths, and nothing on the floor needed fixing. The last place you needed to check on was the daycare. 
Walking through the big wooden doors, Sun is nowhere to be seen. You call his name, followed by Moon’s, but still nothing. Shrugging it off, you make your rounds, checking everything is in place. During the sweep, you could hear muffled words from a storage closet.
“Do you think they’ve kissed anyone, Moon? We can’t do that…” That was the unmistakable voice of Sun. “I wonder what it would be like. Hmph, even the glamrocks can move their mouths…” He grumbles.
When you open the door, Sun jumps like he’s been shocked. He scrambled to stand up. “Ah! Oh, hi! You’re here early!”
“It’s almost eleven. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes.” You say, checking your watch. “What were you talking about?”
“Would you believe me if I said nothing?” The daycare attendant tilts his head, his faceplate spinning a bit.
“No, I would not.”
Sun sighs as he sits back on the closet floor, his legs crisscrossed and his hands holding his face. Taking a seat next to him, you ask him what’s wrong.
“I was just thinking about some stuff after our play. Moon and I can’t kiss you!” He flops over dramatically as if he’d heard tragic news. “Our face is stuck in this stupid smile!” He tugs on one of his rays, angry at his lack of facial mobility.
“Hey, I don’t mind that you guys can’t kiss me. There’s more to a relationship than that. Besides, there are other ways to kiss.”
This breaks him out of his kissless stupor. “There are? Tell me, tell me!” Sun practically shakes where he sits. “Better yet, show me!” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to do as you please.
Taking one of his large hands in your own, you place a kiss on the back of his hand, leaving a lipstick mark on the shiny plastic. While he didn’t have pupils, you could feel Sun’s eyes burning into you. He didn’t want to miss a single second!
The touch sensors in his arms and hands weren’t that sensitive. Kids sure did like to scratch, kick, and bite. But even so, he could still feel your lips pressing fluttering kisses to his casing. Laughter bubbled up in his voice box. 
Kiss after kiss lined Sun’s arm. Even if it left stains, this is one mess he could let slide. You took his other arm in your hands, mimicking your previous affections. Kissing back up his arms, you reach his faceplate. Sun’s giggling gets louder as your lips kiss the hard surface of his cheeks.
“Hey, your shift’s almost over. Get ready to clock out.” Vanessa’s voice rings from your watch. 
When you pull away to answer, Sun tries to follow your lips. “Alright, I’ll be at the office in a moment.” Sun lets out another round of laughter.
“Oh, you’re with him… Your pay gets docked when you stay overtime, you know. Make sure to leave before the shutters close.” With that last sentence, Vanessa cuts off her line.
With excited, shaking hands, Sun brings your face closer to his. “Keep kissing me! Please, please, please!” His begging is cut short as he listens to Moon say something. “Awww, but I’m not done!” Sun still gets up to turn the lights off, moping the whole way there.
Bright red optics suddenly appear in front of your eyes. The lights glow against your skin. Moon clicks a flashlight on, making his faceplate look more menacing than he probably intended. “You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you? Not when you haven’t given me the same attention Sun got, right?” 
“Oh, of course not, Moon!” Cupping his face in your hands, you leave a kiss mark on his forehead.
You bring your trail of kisses down to his nose, trailing along the curve, up to the corner of his eye. Moon lets out that raspy laugh of his. He tugs you closer, craving the warmth of your skin against the cold of his plastic.
He watched as you kissed down his face and neared his chest. “Sun was whining all day, worrying over us not being able to kiss you.” Moon snickered. “He was fretting over nothing, as usual. But I must admit, he’s right about some things.” 
His ‘breath’ hitched as he watched you kiss right where his heart would be. The fans in his chest cavity kicked into overdrive as they tried to cool his circuits, trying their best not to overheat. “Kissing you would be a dream.” 
Letting out a laugh of your own, you press another soft kiss on Moon’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to do the kissing for all three of us.” Punctuating your sappy sentence, you kiss their sculpted-on smile. An audible puff of air leaves the daycare attendant’s chassis.
 “Attention Pizza Plex Guests and Staff. The Pizza Plex’s doors will close in ten minutes.” An automated voice rang over the building’s speakers.
More alert than before, you get up from the closet door. “I gotta go!” You were not trying to spend the night here. “Bye, Moon. Bye, Sun. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to wash that lipstick off!”
They weren’t really listening, absolutely high on kisses. For a few hours, they simply rest in the daycare’s storage closet, gushing to each other about you. Well, more Sun than Moon.
Once it was time for Moon to do his rounds around the Pizza Plex, he’d forgotten about the lipstick covering his exoskeleton. It wasn’t until Monty knocked on the glass of his room.
“You having a good night, Moon?” It was like the smirk in Monty’s voice was audible from his voicebox. “Seems like you had a lot of fun.”
Seeing his reflection in the glass, Moon lets out a growl. How could he forget to wash off all this lipstick? “Not a word of this to anyone.” Moon scratched his fingers down the window, leaving marks behind. He turns tail to head back to the daycare and wash the stains off of himself.
Unknowing to the lunar animatronic, Monty had already sent a message to all the other bots.
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we gon’ be alright
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kaysdenofchaos · 1 month
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Battle Scars AU: Barely Human
Nvm the brain won
Trauma changes you. For some, they come to change for the better. For others, they change for the worse. You scoff and condemn, but do you not see? Do you continue to scoff as you look in the mirror, only to find shattered glass? Do you keep ignoring the broken shards of your heart on the floor until it impales those close to you? Do you keep forcing remedies to other broken hearts (because they obviously need it), knowing full well you cannot even fix your own?
Do you?
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Fic Titles: Song Edition
Part I
Softly we tremble tonight - Cat and Mouse, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
We're so happy (we could die) - Blood & Glitter, Lord of the Lost
There′s no remedy for memory - Dark Paradise, Lana del Rey
Love is the warmest colour - Nara, alt-J
We gotta stop pretending who we are - Don't speak, No Doubt
A force more powerful than gravity - Satellite, Lena Meyer-Landrut
They turned to dust (all that I adored) - Things we lost in the fire, Bastille
Lose all sense of time - Coastline, Hollow Caves
Sometimes quiet is violent - Car Radio, Twenty One Pilots
I′ll show you mine (if you show me yours first) - Swing Life Away, Rise Against
So beautiful and wild - Tonight, Reamonn
See your face lit by starlight - Colorado Sunrise, 3OH!3
Misunderstandings and words unspoken - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg
When we stole the night - Another heart calls, The All-American Rejects
The way that we love (like it's forever) - Happy Ending, Mika
But it's home to me - Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Green Day
Like memories of dying days - Savior, Rise Against
Electricity between both of us - Landfill, Daughter
I slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow′s dreams - Uma Thurman, Fall Out Boy
There'll be a riot (cause I know you) - Robbers, The 1975
All of your flaws and all of my flaws - Flaws, Bastille
Crossing all the lines - Girls Like Girls, Hayley Kiyoko
Misery's your master - She's the blade, Sugarcult
But we go where we want to - Lane Boy, Twenty One Pilots
Between the lines of fear and blame - How to save a life, The Fray
There's a heavy cloud inside my head - Lemon Tree, Fool's Garden
A very common crisis - Fluorescent Adolescent, Arctic Monkeys
Turn the light out, say goodnight - Fake Empire, The National
Let′s write a song that we can dance to - Jersey, Mayday Parade
There′s strangers everywhere - This isn't everything you are, Snow Patrol
More titles!
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donquixotehomura · 1 month
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Trafalgar Law x Reader Cuddling Headcanons
Master List
Some Law cuddling headcanons fluff fluff fluff (teeny bit angsty?)
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Law and Y/N often cuddle before bed, finding comfort in each other’s arms as they unwind from the day’s adventures.
Law’s chest serves as Y/N’s favorite pillow, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her into a peaceful slumber.
They share soft whispers and gentle caresses, their quiet exchanges serving as a tender expression of their love for each other.
Law is not a man of many words, be it in normal day to day life or with his crew/friends, even in a romantic relationship, so actions and quality time are his love language.
Y/N loves to run her fingers through Law’s hair, finding solace in the silky strands as they cascade between her fingertips.
Law holds Y/N close, his protective embrace serving as a shield against the uncertainties of the world.
His fears of losing her like everybody else in his life makes him hold her tightly once they got to that point in their relationship.
They often fall asleep entangled in each other’s limbs, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.
Y/N sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night to find Law watching over her, his gaze filled with adoration and affection.
Sleep escapes him a lot and he usually works through the night but when Y/N drags him to cuddle he can't find it in himself to get up and leave her.
Law’s warmth and presence make Y/N feel safe and cherished, allowing her to drift off to sleep with a sense of peace in her heart.
In the quiet moments before dawn, they share sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love, sealing their bond in the soft light of morning.
Law would have never thought he'd have something like this, believing himself cursed and undeserving but Y/N was persistent and always showed him love and care even when he tried to distance himself, now he can't imagine a life without her, their cuddling sessions work as a remedy to his broken heart, gathering the pieces shard by shard and putting them back together perfectly.
He feels like he's protecting her from all the terrible things in the world by holding her, using his body to shield her from harm, while she uses her heart to protect and fix his.
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janeyseymour · 4 days
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stick season
summary: it's stick season. Hurt.
WC: ~1.85k
Feel free to listen to my cover of the Noah Kahan song!
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Melissa has been your girlfriend for a year now. And she just joined you on a long weekend to go visit your hometown up in Vermont. Your parents absolutely adored Melissa, giving you the stamp of approval on your newest girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier about that. 
It was warm, it was cozy, it was perfect. Or at least that’s what you thought. But apparently you were wrong, because the drive back to Philly just felt wrong.
As you promised me that I was more than all the miles combined, you must have had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive, because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign; kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right.
Melissa had told you that it was entirely worth all of the miles you were putting on her car to go up there with you over the weekend, and you can’t help but smile with joy. And then she’s kissing the back of your hand and promising you that you were more than all of those miles combined.
But then, about halfway through the car ride home, there’s a shift. She takes her hand off of your thigh as she drives, and when she passes the exit that she usually would to take you back to your apartment, she goes silent, biting her lip as if she’s deep in thought.
When she pulls in to her own driveway, she looks to you sadly.
“Hun? What’s wrong?” you ask, clearly concerned about this sudden shift in attitude. 
She bites her lip nervously. “Y/N, I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.
“Do what?” you ask, although deep down you know what she’s hinting at.
She gestures between the two of you. “This. I- I’m not ready for the commitment that you’re ready for… you want to get married and have kids, and move back up to Vermont, and I can’t do that. I- I’m sorry.”
You leave her house in a puddle of tears. The uber driver that gets the misfortune of taking you home gives you quite a few concerned looks through the rear-view mirror.
Now I am stuck between my anger, and the blame that I can’t face, and memories are something even smoking weed does not replace. And I’m terrified of weather cause I see you when it rains. Doc told me to travel but there’s Covid on the planes.
You’re furious. You don’t know who you’re more mad at: yourself or Melissa. She just spent the last three nights with you up in Vermont playing the part of perfect girlfriend before dumping you and leaving you to explain to your parents that you’re single again. And you’re mad at yourself because you knew she didn’t want the future you did, but you had foolishly hoped she would change her mind. You suppose you should take the blame for that one, but you don’t want to face it- admit that it was your fault for putting blind faith in her.
Deciding that you need to relax, you roll yourself a joint, but the memories of you and Melissa over the past year just continue to replay in your mind. And for the first time ever since you started smoking weed, it doesn’t help the pain you feel in your chest. The drug might be able to remedy physical aches and pains, but it sure as hell can’t fix a broken heart; you’re not sure anything can right now.
You don’t leave your house for the next few weeks unless absolutely necessary. You’re a mopey mess, and your therapist finally tells you that you should travel. And you consider going back to Vermont because being in the same city as your now ex-girlfriend hurts too much. But there’s Covid on the planes, and you can’t quite justify driving up to Vermont on Friday night just to leave again on Sunday morning. Come Friday, you really do still toy with the idea of making your way back to your parents’ house, but there’s a cold front making it’s way through the Mid-Atlantic all the way up through New England, and you’re not about to attempt to drive through seven hours of rain and wind. Besides, when it rains, you can only think of Melissa. She used to have you dance out in the rain with her before cozying up on the couch and watching movies. She claimed it was the only way to spend a rainy day.
And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas.
There’s a season that happens in New England when Fall starts to make its exit and Winter presents itself- and every year, around stick season, your life changes. Melissa came during stick season last year, and she left during this stick season. It hurts.
You end up seeing her mother at the grocery store, and you look like a wreck. You give her a shy wave just to be polite- things may have ended with her daughter, but it’s clear to you that she’s entirely forgotten about your existence or previous presence in Melissa’s life.
That stings, and you make your way to the alcohol aisle, throwing a few bottles of wine in your cart so you can mope and play the victim at home tonight. You suppose you’ll just drink until a few of your friends from college come home for Christmas.
So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad. No, I am no longer funny cause I miss the way you laugh.
For the childhood that you had with your father, the relationship that you have with him as a grown woman is nothing short of a miracle. Because of everything you witnessed growing up as a child with having your father for a Dad, you came out better. You knew where to draw the line with certain things. You were funny because of the trauma that he caused you though too… but you aren’t funny anymore because the off color jokes that you used to make were usually just there for Melissa- and you miss the way she laughs. So now, you’re back to the quiet and shy, reserved person that you used to be before she brought out the best (and worst) in you.
You once called me forever, now you still can’t call me back. 
You remember when she told you that she was going to be yours forever. You didn’t think that she would ever say something like that- you knew that she hadn’t ever wanted to get married again, but you continued to pursue her romantically. And it was all looking really good for you, until she broke up with you.
You’ve called her a few times, to beg and grovel for her to take you back- tell her that you didn’t care about marriage and children as long as it meant you got to keep her in your life, but she refused to pick up the phone or call you back.
And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas.
You end up flying home after a few weeks because you simply can’t bear the pain of this heartbreak alone, and you can’t quite justify driving for a weekend. It’s still stick season though, and you feel the cool air wash over you as you exit the airport and try to hail a cab back to your childhood home.
After the flight back home, you see Melissa’s mother at the airport. She has a sign that she’s holding indicating that she’s picking someone up. But she doesn’t see you, and after the last meeting with her, you doubt she remembers you… she’s definitely forgotten about your existence by now.
You’ve come to terms with the fact that your breakup with the Schemmenti was half your fault at this point, but you still take the Septa to get closer to your house before stopping at a liquor store- with the intention of once again playing the victim and drowning your sorrows in a bottle of tequila.
Maybe once you’ve seen some of your old college friends, you’ll head back north to see your hometown friends when they come.
And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.
That redheaded beauty has haunted your dreams since you broke up with her. And you miss her dearly. But in each of your dreams, she’s a different version of herself, and it’s quite odd. Somewhere deep inside though, you know none of the versions of Melissa that your mind had made up are her- so you didn’t really lose her in a sense.
You always wake up though and sigh. She isn’t next to you like she should be. And when you head into your living room, you see a pair of her shoes that she left here and hasn’t asked to get back yet.
Your heart splits in half every time you see those shoes. You should just throw them out at this point, but you don’t want to touch them- if they’re there, maybe she’ll come back to you one day. 
Oh that’ll have to do… My other half was you. I hope this pain’s just passing through, but I doubt it.
She really was your other half, and you hope that the pain that you feel every time you see her shoes passes eventually, but you doubt it will.
And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas. And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.
Stick season passes by, and you’re still left on your own. Christmas time comes, and you find yourself with a bottle in your hand almost every night to try to help numb the pain. It’s becoming less and less, but you still miss her with all your heart. You know that being split in half will just have to do… maybe next stick season will bring you something happy again.
Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab
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