#★. ─── jackson rhodes : thread

[apcthetics]

closed starter for GISELLE ( @overwhlcmed​​ ) location: jackson’s apartment… night time… chilly outside 🙂

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────   IT WAS DIFFICULT TO RECONCILE WITH THE IDEA THAT GISELLE HAD BEEN BACK IN HIS LIFE FOR A LITTLE OVER A YEAR NOW. it simultaneously felt like he had never left, and yet like it had only been a few weeks since she’d approached him in the corridors of her office building and he’d left more scars on her heart. things had changed, drastically, since last christmas, but they also felt exactly the same. the boundary line had shifted– away from the shy glances and soft touches that had constituted an uncertain something before, and instead towards the witty quips and easygoing closeness that defined a comfortable something now– but it was still there. despite the cracks that had formed, allowing them both to see between the bricks of the walls around his heart, they were still standing. the ghosts of the past still haunted them– from stanford to their reconciliation to the apology text message lighting up his phone on his birthday. the guilt stayed firm, keeping him from letting go entirely. it reminded him that no matter how perfect the moments seemed, HE wasn’t. his jagged edges could be covered with cloth for the time being, but it was only a matter of time before he mishandled them and accidentally cut her open in the process. 

        his resolve was crumbling, though ; the comfort with his solitude was like a long dead civilization. the longer they lived in this blissful false reality they had created, the easier it was for jackson to believe that the ghosts clinging to his shoulders could be shaken off. his past didn’t matter. the person he was, the people they were, didn’t matter. what mattered was this moment– watching giselle as she worked at stringing up a single strand of christmas lights around his kitchen window, his chin resting against his knuckles and the untouched tea now cold on the table in front of him. she hadn’t done much, just the lights and a stocking for dutchess hanging up behind the door ( something giselle insisted on for her, not him ), but it was more than jackson might have relented for anybody else. despite his complaints, looking at it now, they looked nice– though it was more than just the aesthetics. it was a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone this year, that while last year she had only been comfortable decorating her space, this year things were better. maybe time did heal old wounds. his gaze only shifted away from giselle when duchess came barreling into the room, skittering across the fake tiles after the end of the wires that were dangling around giselle’s legs. it was then that he pulled himself from his half-asleep, dreamy daze and made any effort to move. 

       shifting from his seat, he picked her up from the floor, before dropping the little white cat onto the kitchen table. she offered him only a meow of protest, before her attention shifted towards hunting a pencil that was hiding in between the piles of books and screws and half-finished coffee mugs. jackson turned his own towards giselle. trying to stifle a yawn, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hindering her movement entirely ; then he rested his chin against the crown of her head, and squinted at the new decoration ( probably the first new thing to enter the apartment since he had moved in. ) “ what is it about the sparkly little lights that say ‘ christ ‘ for people ? “ he questioned suddenly, raising one of his hands to gesture towards the lights. there was a sureness now in the way he crossed into her personal space ; although he was still poised to run like a startled animal, it was leaps and bounds from where they had been at this point a year ago : afraid that eyes lingering too long was crossing a boundary that they hadn’t discussed. now the way she leaned back into him felt comfortable, natural. in the quiet of his own apartment, there was no need for warning sirens. he was content to just be with her– no complications needed. “ granted– i’ve never read the bible, but i have a feeling that john, peter, mark and paul would not have included these on their list of birthday decorations for babies. sheep, though ? that was a necessity. “

[apcthetics]

overwhlcmed​:

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ────────────  courage wasn’t easy for giselle to call on. she found comfort in being complacent. she’d turned herself into a welcome mat over the years for others to stomp over as they took what they needed and left. served herself on a conveyor belt and allowed parts of herself to be carved away to keep others happy rather than confront the misuse of her kindness head on. she thought confrontation, no matter the degree, would always lead to destruction. the times she confronted jackson had shown her as much. the first hint of disagreement and he’d vanished. giselle went to bed that night tears staining pillows, hands holding his shirt to her chest, thinking she’d get to talk it out with him in the morning. only the morning never came. a little over a decade would pass before she saw him again and her approach had yielded an outcome that was almost as damaging as the first. there wasn’t any room for another misstep.

after initial reunion, she thought that distance had changed everything. especially for him. the heart within her as delicate as annealed glass known to break in long, jagged shards had finally shattered and failed in keeping them both safe from injury. perhaps they had a love built for memories. but he’d shown up at her office door, extending the branch she needed to get her out of rushing water and back onto the right path. it was the second chance she had hoped they would get. she wouldn’t mess it up again, of that she was sure. giselle had mastered the art of burying emotion. those feelings that threatened to bubble up and spill over every time they were together were quickly swallowed back down. she could give him what he needed. he wasn’t ready for the hard conversations yet, she reminded herself time and time again. maybe he’d never be ready. a possibility she hoped to reconcile with if it meant getting even the smallest parts of him. it was better than having none of him at all.

contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t easier to hold onto someone who lived only in recollections and deepest dreams. not whenever they stood right in front of you and cleared thunderstorms,  and brightened your days. even through the dim glow of her bedroom lamp, she could recite his every feature. give her an easel, a canvas, she could produce a sketch that recalled each expression in every beautiful detail. she spent nights memorizing the lift in his brows, the curve of his nose, natural tint in his cheeks. while he slept peacefully beside her, she had watched him. pads of her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, and the plump in his lips. her haze pierced through him as if trying to decipher whether or not he was real, in the quiet of the night she’d ask ‘ are you real ? ’ but he’d give no reply. only wrap his arms around her tighter as if he’d heard her, and pulled her close, and wasn’t that answer enough ? time would do what it always had: pass much too quickly, and offer no comfortable solution, but it hadn’t taken away his memory. she had thought the only inevitable thing was change, yet her heart beat only for him all the same. distance hadn’t let the heart to wander, and she was sure if he’d ask her then, she’d still be his.

her body remembered him in all the ways her heart thought he forgot. he was a sea that she was dropped into and never fought; simply allowed her frame to move with the tide instead of going against it. as he closed the breath between them all anxiety forgotten, and anticipation dissipated. her hand gripping even tighter on the shirt balling up in her palm as his hand held tightly onto her; as if they were both fighting against something unseen trying to tear them apart. with his hands resting on her, and his lips moving so perfectly against hers he became all of her favorite things: he tasted like freshly cut mangos, felt like silk pajamas just out the dryer, sounded like isn’t it a lovely day on vinyl, smelled like honeydew melon, and looked like a field of different colored dahlias: he was her favorite thing.

as he pulled her way the pout was instant, chest rising and falling with the air that came rushing in, and before she could pull him back in he spoke. her eyes watched him, confusion quickly turning to recognition; of course, she remembered. she could picture the yellow highlighted line in the copy he’d given her still sat on her shelf. many nights she’d combed through each book searching for his writing in the margins, would trace her fingers over the pages and imagine him, eyes narrowed in concentration, as he took the highlighter to the pages. of course, she remembered, but she was elated to learn that he had as well. “ i missed you. ” the whisper came soon after his recitation, flowing much too quickly for her to put a stop to. more admissions wanted to tumble out one right after the other, but he’d pulled her in again; concerns about her dress slipping away as she moved her hands to his waist; palms pressing into him as she willed her kiss to say what words couldn’t: i love you, i never stopped thinking about, i never stopped wanting you, please stay.

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  ‘ I MISSED YOU. ‘ it was a soundbyte that felt like it came directly from a dream. how many times had he hoped to hear that again ? for giselle to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her forehead against his and say it, like it had only been forty minutes since they’d last seen each other and not thirteen years ? she had been the only one to ever tell him that. he had heard ‘ where have you been ? ‘ and ‘ i haven’t seen you in a while, ‘ but she had been the only lover ( person ) to ever be so honest and open about it ─ i missed you. you matter to me. he didn’t even try to fight the smile that broke free against her lips as he grabbed a hold of her words and tucked them carefully into the little box of love he had for her, amongst the cobwebs that they were slowly clearing away to make room for new furniture.

in the moment there was no fear. it was like with one kiss, with her quiet voice, giselle had completely evaporated the anxiety from his body. all that mattered was that she was there and she was real, and she missed him, and six feet away there was a bookshelf full of memories that she hadn’t let go of. he had forgotten how addicting it had been to feel wanted, and to want someone else. for years he had been simply passing through other people like a ghost — hands and lips touching skin but never quite making the contact that he needed to feel something. they came and he left, and it never really mattered, because in time they’d be replaced with someone new and equally empty. they didn’t want him and he didn’t want them, and he thought that was easiest because the inevitable end never hurt. giselle’s hands left sparks that skittered across his body and he didn’t want them to ever stop, even if it meant they would eventually engulf both of them in flames and ruin them to ashes.

          he didn’t care. the path they treaded was well worn and familiar, despite the time that had passed — jackson pulling her into him, pressing his fingertips into her skin like he was trying to convince himself she was real, like someone who had never been close before, and giselle stepping in time, following his movements eagerly — and yet it also felt different. she wasn’t shyly meeting him halfway anymore, all nervous giggling and soft skin ; her hands were gripping onto his waist like she was afraid he was going to disappear again and she wanted to stop him, to hold him there. jackson couldn’t blame her. he didn’t even trust himself not to pull the same shit ─ it wasn’t like the years apart had changed him into a better man. in many ways, it had made him worse ; there were women in new york who would’ve told giselle to turn tail and run before he could. but no matter what the future consequences would be, he had waited years for this moment. he wasn’t letting go until she wanted him too.

         without pulling away from her he dropped one of his hands to meet hers at his waist, his fingers sliding up her forearm. they paused at her elbow, before in one fluid motion he shifted his hand to rest against her lower back again. he dragged her in towards him, closing the small gap that was still between them completely. he didn’t want room to breathe. he didn’t need too. his other hand shifted to the back of her neck and curled against it, trying to pull her closer, closer, closer, like he could somehow relay years’ of stories and apologies into the way he held her against him. like that could be the only explanation he needed to give. like that might tell her ‘ i missed you too. ‘

    one hand followed the familiar curve of her back to rest in the centre of her shoulder blades, and the other twisted into the hair at the back of her neck. he pulled away from her lips, but only so he could draw her in closer. for a quiet second, he just wanted to hold her, to exist in the moment ─ he was here, right now, standing with her, and he didn’t regret it. “ was this your plan the whole time ? “ he murmured teasingly against her temple as he delicately kissed it, his voice soft enough not to disturb the comfortable peace that had settled over the room. his thoughts were blissfully silent, his mind too focused on the ridges of her spine under his hands as he traced them ; the taste of her lipgloss still lingering against his mouth ; the feeling of loose curls tickling the side of his face. it was he’d been living his life in shades of grey, and giselle had dragged him back into the world of colour. he felt alive. jackson forgot how dizzying that could be. “ because when you said you needed my help with something, i didn’t really expect it to be your dress. “

[apcthetics]

OPEN location : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────   ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT FOUR was the number of reddish-brown leaves he had counted hanging off the tree above his head before he got bored and started to try to see if he could make out the stars scattered between them instead. as usual, jackson was present on premise─ much to his own chagrin─ but he was doing his best to stay ignored until it was a reasonable time for his to leave. so far it had worked. for the most part, besides standing only a short distance from a nearby fire, everybody had left him to his sulking alone. yet admittedly, the longer that he stood there, the more bored he got of it. footsteps echoing over the dead leaves that littered the dirt around him, jackson dropped his head just in time to catch someone walk directly into a overhanging branch. he masked his laugh with a cough, drawing his hand to run along his jaw. and even though he quickly dropped the grin, the way his eyebrows raised still openly displayed his amusement. he jerked his chin out towards them. “ better watch out. there’s a tree there. “ 

[apcthetics]

closed starter for LUVENA ( @overwhlcmed​ ) location: you’ll NEVER guess

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  “ CAN YOU TELL your fucking cronies to leave me alone ? “ this was the first time that evening that jackson had caught luvena alone  —  not caught up in another conversation with the myriad of people who were here to celebrate her as the centre of attention ( something jackson was certain she was probably enjoying. ) despite the way he greeted her, dropping down into the chair beside her without invitation and slouching back into it, there was no real threat behind his words. he was a bit annoyed with her and bowie  —  he couldn’t yet prove that they invited giselle, since he hadn’t exactly talked to giselle about it yet, but he knew they did  —  but at the end of the day it was luvena’s birthday, and his plans of generally avoiding everybody until he was backed into a corner was going relatively well. ( so as long as he continued to ignore the feeling of his heart dropping to his stomach every time he ducked out of the room just in time to catch giselle’s confused stare following after him. ) “ i don’t know where they keep coming from, but i don’t want these fucking cat ears. “ reaching up to tug on one of the ears, he then readjusted them back into his hair, sitting up and glancing behind him as if one of luvena’s two roommates would appear just from the act of messing with them. 

      content with the idea that the twin demons weren’t going to miraculously appear behind them, he settled back into the chair once more. letting his head fall back against it, he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before talking so lu couldn’t fill the space with her useless questions and loud rambling. “ i swear to god i haven’t seen most of these people a single time in my life. where did you find them all ? paid actors pretending to like you ? or are thing one and thing two just out there inviting every person who passes on the sidewalk into your party ? “ 

[apcthetics]

closed starter for EZRA ( @pinkpcnyclub ) location: kitchen 🔪

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  “ DID THEY GET you too ? “ slipping through the doorway into the empty kitchen in another escape attempt, jackson pointed to the ears currently positioned on ezra’s head. at some point along the way he had stopped attempting to force them off his own head and succumbed to his fate  —  the less he tried to make his own decisions, apparently, the less people he didn’t want to talk to tried to talk to him. as much as he hated the ‘ costume ‘ bestowed upon him, leaving it on his head was easier than the alternative. ( it had nothing to do with the fact that the last time tweedledee and tweedledum crawled out of the woodworks to put it back on his head he caught giselle laughing at the whole situation. he was avoiding her, remember ? ) “ they said i was supposed to be duchess. which is disservice to her and i think she’s gonna be pretty pissed off when she finds out. identity theft, and all that shit. “ 

    either way, there was some relief to know that he wasn’t the only one who looked utterly ridiculous. ( he might have even argued the perpetual puppy dog eyes ezra walked around with made it worse on him. ) tossing his can in the recycling bin, he grabbed a new one out of the fridge  —  and after closing it once, decided to open it once more to grab out a second for the other man standing in the kitchen with him. “ why are you hiding in here for, anyway ? “ bold words, but as jackson would continue to insist  —  he wasn’t hiding. he slid the second can down the counter. “ i think sushi and norman are hanging out in one of the bedrooms if you’re looking for an excuse rather than just kind of standing around like a creep. “ 

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closed starter for BOWIE ( @cherryflcvoured​ ) location: bathroom... the bathtub... 

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  JACKSON WASN’T HIDING. ducking from room to room, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible wasn’t hiding. he had no reason to hide. he just didn’t like the crowds, or the strangers. his head was spinning. he had a long day. it had nothing to do with giselle ; with the glossy pink dress that looked like it was made for her specifically, or the pearls drawing too much attention to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. it had nothing to do with the fact that the moment he tried to talk to her, his brain seemed to stutter to a halt ; any clever compliments losing themselves entirely and being replaced with the sound of luvena and bowie laughing at him instead. he hated being so easily readable ; but despite the lies he was telling himself, his motives were obvious. stepping under the florescent light of the bathroom, jackson just wanted a moment to breathe. he didn’t get it. instead, the sound of his footsteps against the tiles seemed to alert the shadowy figure hiding behind the shower curtain, a soft shuffling catching his attention.

       pulling back the curtain, he stared at bowie for a full minute, head slowly falling to the side. it wasn’t surprising to find bowie gallagher sat somewhere she shouldn’t be  —  like lounging back in the empty bath like she owned it. she had made a habit of doing the kinds of things people didn’t expect. jackson didn’t question it. instead, without batting an eye, jackson placed down the cup he was holding, stepping into the tub and practically shoving the smaller woman aside so he could sit down beside her. “ lu’s pet lunatics have been following me around for the past hour asking annoying questions. so i guess you’re better company. ” he explained, though he really didn’t need to. it was a lie. jackson had grown used to tuning out harrison and levi’s ramblings. but he had no intention of revealing his actual thought process, no matter how obvious it might have been. “ why the fuck are you in here ? wasn’t this partly your idea, count dracula ? “ he stretched his legs out until they were dangling over the side of the porcelain, settling back against the wall and making himself comfortable despite the fact he had never been offered the spot beside her.  “ are you hiding from that tall guy that’s been following you around like a puppy dog all night ? i thought he looked a little strange, but . . . “ trailing off, jackson shrugged, and then raised his glass up to take a sip. 

[apcthetics]

closed starter for GISELLE ( @overwhlcmed ) location: boo boo the fool’s apartment <3 ​

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  IT WAS STRANGE to feel lonely. of course, jackson had always been lonely, always known it was himself against the world, always acknowledged the dull aching in his chest that simply wished for someone, anyone, to help fill the never-healing void, but he never really felt the effects of it. for the most part it was an omni-present fact ; he learned to live with it until it became something he barely processed. it was part of him. but while he ignored ─ avoided ─ didn’t talk to giselle, it made it’s presence known in a way that hadn’t been there before. there was now a constant voice in the back of his head repeating things back to him. it reminded him that giselle would have laughed at the joke that he overheard standing on the subway station ; that duchess looked real weird in that moment, like the kind of picture she might have sent him ; that his apartment seemed awfully quiet, and his bed rather empty, without a second body there to fill the space. no matter how short it had been, her sudden absence was felt in every part of his life.

        he needed time to think. to collect his thoughts. to figure out what the next step from here was ─ they couldn’t do that again ( couldn’t they ? ) because it was a bad idea ( was it ? ) but he didn’t want to let go of her friendship ( were they really friends ? would they be able to continue to be friends after this ? his heart was doubtful, but his mind was adamant they had to be. ) ─ this was true, and he had been doing a lot of thinking since he’d closed her apartment door behind him days ago. but mostly, jackson was scared. he was scared of how easy it had been for him to completely disregard all logic the moment that giselle had been close. he was scared of how fast he had felt his heart beating. he was scared of the myriad of new ways that had opened for him to hurt her ─ and he was scared that he was already doing it.

         the weirdness that he had created between them was brand new, even if the way that his breathing stopped every time he saw her was just the same. thirteen years ago, jackson never really cared about the consequences of his actions. he didn’t know the ways he was capable of hurting people. he also didn’t know he loved giselle ─ the two of them had been comfortably trapped inside a make-shift reality that they never spoke about, and then the bubble had burst. now, however ? years of experience had taught him that you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. it didn’t matter how hard he tried to be good. it didn’t matter how much he knew he loved her. he fucked things up, even without meaning too. he was a self-fulfilling prophecy with no happy ending. this knowledge plagued him and shadowed every interaction, and thus every vulnerability he had extended towards her had been viciously ripped back in an attempt to save them both. 

       yet shaking her out of his mind wasn’t so easy this time. he had felt the ripples of pain that echoed through his body when he’d first packed up and left stanford, but he was able to compartmentalize those thoughts. new giselle was like a parasite that had wormed her way into every thought. he snapped at duchess, at declan, and at just about anyone else who was unfortunate enough to get in his way. he felt guilty for not staying, while simultaneously he felt guilty for letting it happen in the first place. he couldn’t ignore her this time. impulsivity had lead him to her door, just like the first time, with a dinner offer, also like the first time. part of him was expecting her to chase him off. the other part was hoping she would invite him in. pretending had worked this far, right ? 

         “ hi ─ um, hi. “ his words sputtered out all together, like he had rehearsed what to say and then forgot the moment she opened the door and he saw her ( he had ). “ these are for you. “ the bundle of daisies he was holding was unceremoniously shoved at her ; he wanted to move past it, and quickly, acknowledging the flowers without acknowledging the why. the way he skirted around the elephant in the room was awkward, and he was very obviously out of his element ─ odd, considering this hadn’t been the first time that he’d appeared from the land of ghosts to reinsert himself into the timeline once more ( but this was the first time it mattered. ) his gaze then briefly jumped down to the paper bag, and he held it up slightly. “ this is for you, too ─ well, on a technicality, it’s for both of us, but if you were somehow planning on eating all this food on your own i’d just let you have it just to see you try. “ he looked back to her, nervously running his tongue against the inside of his cheek and rocking back on his heels. “ i was just ─ i was in the neighbourhood, and i ─ well i hoped you weren’t working late, but your lights were on from outside. not that i was explicitly looking at your window ! ─ this hole just keeps getting deeper. i’m going to stop talking now. “ 

[apcthetics]

closed starter for GISELLE ( @overwhlcmed​ ) location: jackson’s apartment ? grace is throwing hands if he was at her apartment so this is the best we’re gonna get.

     ★. ── jackson had never once celebrated valentine’s day. even on the years where he was technically obligated too, his time matched with ‘ girlfriends ‘ ( in the loosest sense of the term ), he would spew some nonsense about capitalism and the ploy to sell flowers and chocolate and leave it at that. it wasn’t that he was really anti-romance ( though he claimed he was, if someone were to breeze through the worn novels that made up half the clutter in his apartment, they would see plenty of underlined quotes that would prove him otherwise ) ; just that the concept of a day where you were obligated to make showy displays of affection to prove your love to other people felt ridiculous. he refused to participate, having never quite grown out of the the immature, stick-it-to-the-man attitude that he had developed in high school ── and because if love was real ( like he quietly wished it was ), then surely it wouldn’t be the kind of thing that was only celebrated once a year. 

        it made sense, though, that giselle would be born on the one day that was officially dedicated to bouquets of red roses and pink boxes full of chocolate and all the things the every day person associated with love. she was so full of adoration and hope for the world that it could be seen spilling out of her all the time ( so had giovanni, although his manifested itself in a different, less obvious way ) and when someone learned that her birthday coincided with february 14th it always seemed to just click. it also worked out that jackson didn’t have to ask much more than what she was doing on her birthday. it was a perfect excuse when luvena or bowie had questions for him that he didn’t know how to answer ── she had visited him, after all. it would be rude to not return the favour. 

     there were implications between them now. the longer time went on, the harder it was getting for jackson to plaster the label of “ friends “ on whatever the hell him and giselle were doing when asked by other people. it was easy, at first, to brush off every encounter with light excuses that gave no hint at what was actually happening under the surface. but now, months down the line, they were still pretending, and every time they did things got more and more dangerous. it was getting easier and easier for jackson to ignore the guilty conscious that told him to pull away when they were lingering too close to each other. 

       “ oh ── that’s, um, that’s for you, by the way, “ at a momentary pause in conversation, jackson jerked his chin towards a plainly ( and poorly ── he hoped she wouldn’t look too closely at the seams ) wrapped box sitting to the side of his table. he was hoping that giselle wouldn’t ask too many questions ── that she would unwrap the book and the shitty little usb and that would be the end of it, until she was by herself and could find the old photos tucked inside the pages and the recordings and jackson wouldn’t have to answer for them. he spent an embarrassing amount of time re-learning chords and parts for songs he wasn’t even sure that she still liked, and talking about it was dancing a little too close to talking about the invisible line that they kept blatantly stepping over. without looking up from the carrot he’d been cutting, he shrugged his shoulders, acting ( in typical jackson rhodes fashion ) as though it didn’t mean anything. “ you don’t have to open it now. it’s not anything important. i just didn’t want to forget. “ 

[apcthetics]

closed starter for EZRA ( @pinkpcnyclub ) location: spooky woods

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────   “ BOO ! “ jackson had gotten good enough at blending into the background of these kinds of things so that people didn’t pay much attention to him. he was grateful. he didn’t want the attention, usually, considering his game of standing back and acting the supporting role to those who did ( his brother, giovanni, luvena, sami ). and while some might have considered that boring, jackson thought otherwise— because when nobody paid any attention to you, it was easy to do this. reaching his hand out, he had grabbed a hold of ezra as the other man was wandering alone through the trees. he had followed him over here with the intention to scare him. he’d been amping the monsters in the trees up the whole afternoon ; if anything to just give ezra one good fright before the end of the evening. mean ? maybe. but once a pesky older brother, always a pesky older brother — even if he had no contact with those who were actually his family anymore and instead made the likes of bowie and lu and ezra deal with it. “ i’m surprised you’re still here. everyone’s been talking about ghosts and ghouls all night, once i lost you i was convinced you were a goner. “ he reached out to ruffle ezra’s hair out of place, before something clearly dawned across his features. he pointed his finger in towards ezra’s chest. “. . . but then again, i also saw your little freak friend around here too. i didn’t put two and two together until now, but makes sense how you’re still alive, if you were trailing your feet after them all night. any demonic cults out here would know they would be getting their hands full with that one. “

[apcthetics]

overwhlcmed​:

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ─────────────  for someone so smart, giselle could easily become a fool around jackson. each time she approached him or let him into her apartment, she knew all the things she should be doing: having the hard conversations, drawing a clear picture of her feelings for him and asking him to do the same for her, deciding that if she didn’t mean even a fraction to him of what he meant to her she should walk away, and actually doing it if the answer was anything less but none of that was ever followed through on. despite knowing better than to rely on the magic of wishful thinking, she did it every time they were together. hoping, each night wouldn’t be like the previous one and she wouldn’t be left to wake up alone in the morning wondering what she had done wrong. replaying it over and over until she made up an answer that left her at fault, or until he came back.

like every other time, she was wishing again. hoping, maybe tonight would be the night he’d realize he no longer wanted dusk getaways and apology dinners that never came with the apology. the closer she drew to him ( even if it was out of fear of make-believe tales ), the more she wanted it to be true. “ you have got to stop, i’m serious. ” she whined; a hand had come up to pull his fingers down but a need to know that she was fine got the best of her and she ended up peaking over her shoulder only to have the jump scare come from the man beside her. the sudden clamp on her arm encouraging a squeal and a splash from the cup she’d once been holding as she jumped closer to him. “ oh my god, i’m so sorry ! ” she exclaimed taking a step back to assess the damage; completely ignore the alcohol seeping into her shirt and growing sticky on her arms. “ did i get any on you ? ”

the dark made it hard to see, but she did her best to try and guess at where any liquid would have landed; her hands brushing against the chest, pockets, and sides of his jacket. “ i should have threw that out a long time ago, i’m sorry. ” she mentioned again before remembering that he had asked her a question. “ oh, no, no we didn’t plan it. i didn’t even know he was coming until he showed up. ” she answered with a shrug, thinking back on the surprised joy that came with both the appearance of a good friend, but also the humor in ( what she thought ) was an accidental match. “ do you think they have any napkins around here ? or a bathroom ? i’m really scared it’s going to stain. ”

˖ ✧ ★ ──────────── UNFORTUNATELY, JACKSON’S PLOTTING BACKFIRED ON HIM. for a moment he had managed to draw giselle closer, but his failure to remember the overflowing drink she was holding ( who gave giselle a cup of alcohol to carry around the whole night, really ? ) put a pin in it. spilling the dark liquid out over herself, she stepped back─ somehow, it avoided the jacket sleeves that were pushed up to his elbows, and instead he only got a few drops on his arm. giselle wasn’t so lucky. he couldn’t make out the dark spot that formed on her shirt in the dim lighting, but he had watched it pour. biting down on the inside of his cheek to mask the disappointment that bubbled up as she once again put space between them, he let his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket. a small part of him felt guilty, if he had accidentally been the cause of the spill that ruined her costume.

      “ yeah, ellie, there’s a bathroom just in the middle of the woods with indoor plumbing and everything. the ghosts use it. “ it was standard jackson sarcasm, though it held less of a bite than it usually did when he was talking to just about everyone else. it was more playful─ he was teasing her, rather than the quips he tossed back and forth with the handful of other people he ever spoke too. he sunk his teeth into his lower lip but it couldn’t hide the grin at his own joke as she reached out to pat him down and check whether or not he’d gotten any of the spillage on himself. he caught her hand in his. “ i’m fine. “ he insisted, “ got off scotch-free. “ a bad joke. a horrendous one. he didn’t know why he said it. immediately, he regretted it─ but that was how it was with giselle. like all of a sudden all of the cool, detached pieces of him became very much attached, and they peeked through before he could shove them back down, trying to meet her on the same upbeat and easy playing field she was running on. clearing his throat, he glanced down at the dirt between them nervous before reaching his free hand out to tug at the bottom of her shirt, where the dampness was seeping through. an attempt to regain his pride back, if he ever had any. “ you could just take it off. “ he offered as though that was actually a solution, leaning his shoulder back into the tree again. “ i wouldn’t mind. “

        forfeiting his jacket was effectively forfeiting his costume─ without the distinct red, there wasn’t really a way to tie him down to rebel without a cause. he didn’t much care. the only reason he had worn it at all was because it had been giselle’s idea, and now he could say he did, in fact, dress up that one time if anyone asked him to do it again. he shrugged out of it, fixing the sleeves before he held it unceremoniously out towards giselle ( he was trying very hard to not make a big deal out of it, because if somewhere someone was watching, he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it. ) maybe the whole thing with her friend had been an accident ( though jackson highly doubted it─ nobody just decided they were going to be danny zuko for some halloween party unless there was an olivian newton john to match ), but that didn’t stop him from wanting to make a point anyway ; it may not be clear what they were, but they were something. he couldn’t bring himself to stay in the morning because that was too real, too scary, and in the light of the daytime giselle might be able to see more of who he was rather than the idealized version they were both desperately clinging too. but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want her, or that he wanted to have to share her, either. “ it won’t do anything about the stain, “ he decided with another non-committal, easy shrug, “ but at least you won’t get cold, and nobody will be able to see it. “

[apcthetics]

overwhlcmed​:

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ─────────────  the holiday season came with the kind of coldness that harsh winter winds, snow piled sidewalks weren’t capable of producing. every year it tracked her down and followed her no matter how much she tried to outrun it. it was the kind of biting chill that burned her from the inside, and sent pin needles to the pads of fingertips. it didn’t matter how many jackets she had on or blankets she draped over her legs, her heater could be running from the time she woke up to the time she lay her head back down and she would still be freezing. the cold giselle felt with each chime of a jingle bell didn’t come from a drop in temperature but from the absence of the warmth that came with hearing her brother laugh. there was no remedy for that, and each year she searched for it. burying herself beneath tinsel, candycanes, wrapping paper, and ornaments hoping she could find the cheer in christmas without having to fabricate it. this might have been the first year she was actually able to do it. happiness often came without fabrication when jackson was involved. 

there might not have been a label etched over them, but she had him; tucked away in the quiet of his apartment, the low hum of his record player, and the soft creaking of the floor beneath dutchess’ paws, she had him. he had a different kind of warmth. the kind that cleared gray skies, and melted the ice the pierced her heart. giselle had been lost in her own humming as she made sure the lights went along evenly when duchess had rushed her away. a soft squeal and a clattering string of bulbs later, she released a quiet laugh while shaking her head at how silly she must have looked. “ she gets that from you y’know ? ” she playfully scolding. “ the distraction making, and focus pulling. it has you written all over it. ” giselle knew very well that anything dangling ( especially the things that shined ) was enough to call dutchess’ attention. but it was more fun to pin the blame for her quick fear on jackson as opposed to the cat. she had every intention on setting herself back on task, only jackson had other plans. his arms wrapped around her, halting her movements, and tugging her lips up into a shy smile. her body reacted immediately; her back falling into his chest, and her hands ( lights still held within them ) coming up to make contact with his arm.

a nice moment only he could make even more bright with mindless remarks about the decorations. she tried her best for a deep sigh but even that turned into a small bout of laughter as she shook her head. “ shows what you know, it’s to symbolize christ bringing light into the world. metaphorical light being symbolized by a literal light, have you seriously never listened to silent night once ? ” as much as she wanted to look up at him she liked the feeling of his head resting on hers and so she kept her eyes looking out at the snow falling outside as she fiddled with the lights in her hand. “ it actually use to be candles decorating the christmas tree, did you know that ? when we were kids the youth group at the church our parents were… partially, members of would have us perform silent night as we put lit candles on the tree. ” a small smile came at the fondness of the memory. “ i was always so worried about starting an actual forest fire that i was put in charge of just lighting the candles, and gio always put mine up for me. ” giselle expected tears, a part of her wanted them because being happy without giovanni felt like she was forgetting about him. but there were none. sharing stories about her brother with jackson meant more than just remembering him, it meant celebrating him and that was nothing to cry about, only to smile about. “ should i bring over my christmas collection next time ? there’s actually quite a few songs that talk about the metaphorical light ? you should do your research. ” this time she did allow herself to look up at him, eyes as bright as the lights she held.

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────  JACKSON HAD NEVER BEEN THIS CLOSE WITH ANYBODY BEFORE. the way giselle seemed to fit into him was as though they had been doing this for years, and yet this was also the first time that jackson had ever experienced this kind of intimacy with someone. even when they were younger, he felt the typical way that young lovers did. there were butterflies in his stomach ( not that he would have ever admitted it ) and he constantly felt the need to impress her ( there were times he’d argue the correct point with gio just because he thought giselle might be listening, and he wanted to sound smart ). he was happy to spend hours chasing after her, keeping her company while she studied, waiting for her when she went out. the world hadn’t beaten him down so badly yet, and jackson hadn’t been so desperately seeking shelter from the storm of it all in the safety of his own mind. who they were as people had fundamentally changed, and so what they saw in each other had, too. their intertwined strings had stretched and morphed shapes, but continued to be tied together. now this new version of their love felt old, like the kind of ancient forces that molded soulmates together. it was the kind of things they both now wanted : comfortable. quiet. safe. they were things neither of them had ever been given, and they were certainly things jackson didn’t know what to do with. and yet he was content. for now. as he settled his arms around her, listening to her lecture him about duchess’s ‘ personality traits ‘, jackson playfully rolled his eyes. “ i didn’t teach her shit. i didn’t raise her. she just showed up one day like that. “ he argued, turning his head slightly to steal a glance in the cat’s direction. 

      “ i didn’t know people were looking to christmas music for the meaningful lyrics. what next ? are you going to tell me that “ grandma got run over by a reindeer “ is meant to symbolize the sacrifices that the virgin mary made to bring our messiah into the world ? “ he replied, pulling a face as he listened to her reasoning. he was soon to drop it, however, as the topic of conversation shifted away towards a different path. he fell silent. gio should have been a sensitive topic for jackson to avoid. he was yet another failed friendship ; yet another person who jackson had hurt and ran from it. but still, he listened to every word she said carefully, stringing together the image of it in his mind, and softly smiled. “ i’m surprised they trusted you enough to not drop the matches and burn yourself. “ he decided quietly, and although it was typical of the banter they usually went back and forth with, it was full of fondness. sharing her memories, he had realized at some point, was her way of remembering giovanni. these moments weren’t about him, or his guilt, or the regrets that he had. giselle wanted to talk about the brother she loved with someone who understood him, too, and jackson refused to be like the rest of the world and never let giselle talk. ( in fact, he was so content to listen to her that he rarely shared at all. ) “ but i guess i would probably trust gio less. “

as she glanced up at him, jackson unwound himself from her so she could continue on with her task, shifting just far enough from her that he could lean against the wall beside the window. his arms crossed over his chest, and he shook his head ( frantically, as some— not him, but some— might describe it. ) no thanks. i am a strong believer that once you’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all. “ he decided, letting his gaze drift from the lights back down to the window. there was a moment where he just watched her reflection— the faint glow of the lights reflecting off the window towards her making the whole world feel a little fuzzy. it was surreal ; like he was living inside the world that his past self had thought was barely more than a dream. then he looked back up towards the lights. “ besides, i think this is enough christmas decorating. the whole coming-of-christ light in my house thing is a bit too fanboy for me. i don’t particularly like jesus, myself. “