#ACTUALLY NO LONGER SORRY. YOU WILL LISTEN

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Are your requests open? Could I ask for Optimus dating a human for the first time? SFW and/or N$FW is ok ♥️

Since you didn't specify, I'm going for a vaguely G1/Prime vibe. Forgive errors, i typed this on my phone since I'm visiting fam for holidays.

He was pretty slick about it, asking you to accompany him on a scouting mission. Prime doesn't scout. But all you thought was how nice it would be to spend some time with the big boss himself. After all, you both had confessed attraction to each other. With him admitting an odd interest in you, and you letting it slip he was rather nice to look at. Even if nothing came out of it, it was nice to clear the air. And the fact he didn't avoid you after meant more than you could say. He was still nice to look at.

The sound of his engine and the radio mixed with your humming. You didn't know the lyrics, but the tune was close enough. Sitting in the passenger seat while his holoform occupied the driver's. It still felt odd to talk to it... him, through it, so you stared out the window when you did.

"What are we on the lookout for?" You ask, glancing at mountains in the distance. He was quiet. Longer than any leader-like contemplation you were used to. "Prime?"

His voice interrupts the music, "I have not been entirely honest with you y/n." He sounds remorseful, and you feel a clench in your heart, "we are not here to scout, nor are we here for any sort of mission."

You fidget with the edge of the seat. What could have Prime lying and feeling so bad about it?

"After our conversation the other day, i did some thinking-"

Oh shit. Did you make him uncomfortable?

"-I believe it best to-"

"Prime, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. It just slipped out." You interrupt, trying to smooth over whatever wrinkles you caused.

"Please allow me to finish." He says with that stern but patient tone. The engine shifts, and he pulls onto a side road, "I wish to apologize for not acting sooner, I simply wished to ensure I moved forward properly. I believe the next step on earth is a date to explore our mutual interests?"

A what?

He continued talking about the research he did and how it was similar to cybertronian customs, but it seemed to move faster in comparison. You listened, still processing what this meant.

"Wait... so..." You put a hand to your face as you focus, "this isn't a scouting mission. It's a date?"

"Correct." Prime affirms He turns off again to another side road. This one flanked by trees that get more and more dense, "I apologize for the deception, and for the lack of activity. It's hard to find such things to accommodate our coupling."

His choice of the word coupling made you chuckle, and cheeks go warm, "N-no Prime this... is pretty clever, actually." Glancing at the driver seat, you make a face, "but for the love of god, please get rid of that thing."

You can feel the rumble of laughter in his engine before it flickers and dissipates.

Prime is the kind of bot to really want to get to know you. And you love the idea of one on one time with him. A long drive in solitude is the best way to get to know each other. Open up about some things. Share hopes and what you would want from such a strange relationship.

The nerves subsided quickly. It felt natural. it felt good to talk to him. It felt like he listened and was honest when he spoke.

He stops for you to grab some food, seeing as you both got lost in the conversation and were out far longer than expected. Optimus apologized for not thinking of that even after all the research.

You lean against the window, smiling at the stars. He's telling you a story about how he once woke from recharge to find energon stacked in front of his door. The deep voice lulling you to sleep. It felt appropriate for him to take the long way back.

N$fw vauge at most.

Perhaps this date turned into another. And another. A date here and there. He thought it cute when you kissed his dash before getting out of the cab. NO, you absolutely would not kiss the holoform, but caved when he would use it to hold your hand as you got out of the cab. Only on the cheek, of course.

You would call Prime a gentleman, but there was no missing the way his engine sounds like it stalls when you sit in the passenger seat; asking if this date was when you should invite him inside. His voice sputters about more research and compatibility.

"Shame, you don't have a bed in the back prime." You say while one hand runs down your body, "could really put it to use now."

You notice the way he speeds up as you continue touching yourself, engine thundering down the road. Hopefully, there aren't any state troopers.

There is a shyness to your actions, hoping he doesn't dislike this. Not to mention how odd it is to perform with no audience. Not that you want the holoform now. It would kill the mood more than anything. He can sense your body heating up, and each time you trip over your words, trying to be sexy, his engine purrs. Slowly unbuttoning your top has him wishing he could transform and feel you with more than the sensors in his cab.

"You're beautiful." He says as you shimmy out of your pants. The human form was alien , yet familiar. Soft forms on a Cybertronian like frame. "Beautiful..." he says as you part your thighs and lips. "Beautiful." He whispers when you bring yourself to the edge. That deep voice confessed how he had thought about this. How you would look. What he wants to try. Promising it to be his hand, somehow, to bring you here next time.

But first he needs to look into a new altform. Somthing with a bed in the back.

[roombagreyjoy]

Contender for my new favourite character dynamic: Creature of deathless nature who keeps dying and resuscitating over and over because they keep saving their unwittingly carefree (or rather careless) partner by bargaining with the gods in order to keep exchanging their fates. Shenanigans ensue in order to keep this a secret because nonchalant as Character B is they would absolutely be heartbroken and devastated about this happening (more than once)

[dailykugisaki]

Day 274 | id in alt

I like to think Gojo has the strongest mentality so far up his ass it pisses Kugisaki off because, DUDE. SHE FUCKING GETS IT. BE QUIET. He's emo but a different color.

[novadreii]

If your life circumstances have always required from you an abnormal amount of strength and resilience, I see you. If your inner child lets out a small sob anytime someone compliments you on that strength, I see you. If that strength translates to you being some form of domineering/abrasive because you learned early on that your lot in life was to take care of yourself because nobody else ever did, I see you. If you are so fucking angry all the time and can't pinpoint why, I see you. If you've had to watch as people you care about continue to abandon you in adulthood because you grew up to be type A, controlling and assertive, I see the fuck out of you. It's not your fault that nobody ever gave you a soft place to land so that you could be your true self. And I won't inundate you with condescending platitudes about how you'll find your person/people one day.

Some of us are lucky, but to depend on external sources for your well being is a crap shoot. I won't tell you to keep looking for your home in other people. Home is where you are. Take that strength you've painstakingly cultivated since you were a child, and quadruple it. Become bulletproof, unbreakable. Don't let anyone else find a fault line in you to exploit ever again.

[manderleyfire]

hey, ali! i feel your pain about the tbosas adaptation! i cried so much during the movie but not because i felt emotional, seeing MY book comes alive on screen but because we were robbbbbbbbbbed and shot 😞😞😞😞😞😞 anyways, what's your opinion on the music tho? fav/least fav song? (my is the oldtherebefore and least fav the 0livia r0drigo's one)

hey, lollis!

‘robbed and shot’, exactly. i couldn’t have said it better myself because unfortunately, that’s spot on 🥲

I LOVED THE MUSIC! a dystopian reflection of our reality through intentional use of folk/bluegrass music is something that resonates strongly with me. i mean, they knew how to strike the right chord in the hearts of book readers for sure! *the only other thing i wish was different about the music it's the variety of tempo and rhythm because as much as i LOVED the unified sound of LG's songs, i would prefer each song to have its own individual tune and ~aura)

my absolute favourite adaptation that they did was 'nothing you can take from me' (boot-stompin’ version); i am utterly in awe of the powerful passionate energy that they gave to this song?? also i loveeed the similarity of rhythm and tone between 'nothing you can take from me' and a traditional american folk song 'man of constant sorrow', i kinda feel it was a deliberate parallel which worked just great. (also i’m glad they added maude ivory’s 'keep on the sunny side'!)

my least favourite is perhaps 'the ballad of lucy gray baird'?.. and though i did enjoy rachel’s rendition (she copies a young dolly parton in such a warm-hearted respectful manner!), and the respect for traditional appalachian music, she sang it in a cheerful 'to hell with you!' manner which is less intense and intimate that i remember it from the book to be? to quote tbosas here: 'the haunting melody set the tone, and her words did the rest as she began to sing in a voice husky from smoke and sadness' – the movie version really failed to capture both the haunting tune (their version doesn't really tell the story musically because of a major key) and the lucy gray's vulnerability here for me. in the book she did what carrie fisher told us all to do: 'take your broken heart and turn it into art' while in the movie she isn't even angry at billy taupe?? like his betrayal (and her place in the games) is not a big deal? she's openly rebellious and sassy with out of place 'i need no man' attitude and that simply didn't work for me personally.

it took some time for 'pure as the driven snow' to grow on me (i expected it to be more of a waltz-like, similar to maiah wynne's cover), but i'm coming around to it. yet… i wish it was STAGED differently??? they had to combine certain scenes and songs in the film but it was such a SURREAL idea to meld PATDS with 'sell you for a song' setting? and it took away so much from that moment of love and connection and unconditional acceptance, where lucy gray is finally ready to be emotionally unshielded in front of her lover (maybe for the first time ever)?? it was a PIVOTAL snowbaird moment but they needed to blend two songs together because obviously PATDS can't be love confession in form of a song because it should be taken as an ominous warning instead (duh!). 'bitch you better not turn out to be a bad guy even tho i knew you were a villain all along' :??? and it could've worked in its own angst-y way, if there had been any development in snowbaird love story?? but since movie!they are full on survival the whole time (there's no canonical teetering on the edge of an actual fondness/love and survival instinct), PATDS makes no sense at all. so… i extremely frustrated by the use of PATDS on screen but at the same time i love the sound of the full version on the soundtrack album.

annnd i'm actually IN PAIN because they had the audacity to leave so many songs out?? especially given their ties to the original trilogy?? 'deep in the meadow' aka rue's song???? 'the valley song' aka the one peeta mentioned seeing katniss sing at school when they were children????  the festive 'crawling to you' ('that thing i love with') likely performed at finnick’s wedding?? idk maybe it's a musical nerd who is speaking in me but i wish they could have included more of the book songs at least on the album, if not in the actual movie (even tho i'm still sure, it would've been possible to present the whole complexity of this book AND its poetic side too, if they decided to split the film in two).

[the score album wasn't much to talk about but 'snow lands on top' piece tho… vivid, striking, remarkable]

[iiboronii]

i think that i might've posted about it before but i <3 all the little -ler blogs on here. i'm being so fr. nothing clears my skin more than seeing a -ler blog answering questions. i love you guys please keep making silly little -lers.

[thiefnessman]

“ooooh late-diagnosed people have it so hard it’s so much better for people who were diagnosed in their childhood” stop it! they’re just giving you excuses! i was diagnosed with autism at a young age and my college refused to accept my paperwork because it was “too old”, meanwhile a bunch of my peers are given shit when seeking accommodations and whatnot because “ooh you were diagnosed too late”. no one has it better they’re just telling you bullshit.

[swiftfootedachilles]

what do i have to do to get people to read my stuff actually like im not about to get in everyones faces begging for attention but i dont understand how im expected to make FREE fandom content without much feedback on my work

[dmumt]

just got sent a 33 minute long voice note at what point is it acceptable to tell someone to kill themself

[blirpus]

didnt wanna rant in the tags of that previous post i reblogged so im making a separate post

cause man i WISH i could just do fuck all at work sometimes. theyre monitoring your performance and i always skip at least one of my breaks so i can stay well above the quota and get performance bonuses. but its fucking bullshit that the time you spend on a coffee break counts towards your hourly average of lines collected. my feet hurt every day and im slowly developing a bunion from this shit fucking job that doesnt let me sit down and fucking REST for a moment

[yakny]

they are in my heart always ( ☆ ´⌓` ☆ )ブ♥

[he13na]

hahaha WOW a bunch of teenage trauma is coming up today (:

[devotedlystrangewizard]

my desire to see the other routes vs my desire to replay cf over and over and over and over a

[snekdood]

i honestly just think gen z and gen alpha have an issue with communication in general and thats causing a lot of fucking issues.

[mostly-imagines]

Careless Accidents

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you get hurt and jason’s pissed

warnings: reader’s wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed to hard

You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.

You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like they’re in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.

Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.

“Hey,” Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. “We’re doing alright for ourselves,” she said smugly. 

“Yeah,” you’d nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did. 

“Okay listen, I think the flag—” what flag? “—is by the fountain so, I think because there’s three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.”

“We’re on teams?” you asked, no longer completely sure you know what you’re playing. 

“We are now!” she smiled, starting to run. “I’ll bait!”

She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, “Don’t trust Cass,” before scurrying away.

Rather than sit around and wait there for…something?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.

What you didn’t see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear. 

What you also didn’t see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. You’d mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.

Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.

“Are you okay?” she signs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” 

The response was instinctual and you didn’t actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it. 

You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. They’re savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern. 

“You good?” Tim asked, approaching languidly.

“That looked like it hurt,” Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.

Dick shook his head, “No, she’s okay.” He turned to you, prodding, “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m, um…” you winced, looking at your wrist. “It hurts a little.”

Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. “It might be sprained.”

Dick paled. 

“No.”

Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, “We can get it wrapped upstairs.”

“No.”

You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanie’s face, begging to break.  

“Ooooh. He’s gonna kill you.”

Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.

“You know I didn’t mean to grab you that hard right? I—” 

Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dick’s now-third explanation/apology for the incident. 

“I know, Dick,” you say, trying to appease him. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you genuinely, but you can tell there’s more there that he isn’t verbalizing.

You nod, “I know, Dick. It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that she’s all done. 

You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.

He takes a deep breath, “What if…what if you avoid him until it heals?”

“Dick.”

He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes, 

He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.

“Are you going to tell him?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing for bad news.

You shake your head sympathetically, “No. I can’t guarantee you that he won’t find out, but I won’t tell him.”

Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. “Okay. Okay.” He stands, “I need to go.”

You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically. 

Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.

“I’ll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.”

Tim barks out, “Absolutely not.” He looks at his brother, still laughing. “No fucking way.”

Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. “Five.”

A deadpan from Tim. 

“You don’t have five thousand dollars.”

Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. “Dude, please! He’ll kill me!”

Tim scoffs, “He’d kill me!”

Dick huffs, “No, it’s different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?” 

“Well then it sounds like you fucked up,” Tim sneers.

“Oh my God.”

He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?

He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.

The latter sits up with a tense brow, “Master Dick?”

The former turns around in his seat, “What’s the matter?”

Dick struggles for a second before confessing, “I accidentally sprained someone's wrist.” 

Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. “Alright…you’ll have to take responsibility for their patrol duties—”

Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, “Said person doesn’t have any patrol duties to be affected...”

Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.

“I can’t help you.”

Dick’s panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.

Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, “You don’t think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?”

“I—I don’t know!” Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t know what to do!”

Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, “Dick, when you make a mistake…you have to submit to the consequences, you know that.”

Dick gapes, “This is not a normal consequence!”

Meanwhile, you’ve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jason’s childhood bedroom. 

You’re admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.

“Hey, Jay,” you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.

He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you. 

Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back. 

You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. “How’s the bike?”

“Better than it was this morning,” he sighs. “Where’ve you been?”

He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you. 

You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. “Uh, we were outside, playing…at least three separate games at once.”

The second you’re in proximity, your hands join like it’s second nature. 

He nods, all too familiar with the family’s unique methods of gamefair.

“Did th—” He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. “What happened?”

You glance down, shrugging. “Overexerted myself playing tag.”

He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.

He turns your hand over gently, asking, “Is it sprained?”

You nod, relaxed. “Yeah. Cass said it’s mild.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. “Barely hurt then.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied with the conversation.

Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt. 

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?” he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following. 

“Yeah,” you say gaily. “Alfred said he’s making his ‘special spaghetti’, apparently it’s a household favorite?”

He wavers, halfway to between decisions. “Yeah…”

He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. “Can I see it?”

You nod, happy to ease his mind. 

You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.

You both see it at the same time—the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.

You’re both quiet for a second—him putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.

He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.

“Fucking idiot—”

You try for his hand but he’s out of reach before you can grab it.

“I’ll be right back,” he grumbles behind him.

“Jason—” you sigh, “At least help me wrap it back up first.”

He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.

You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. “It was just an accident,” you tell him. 

He scoffs, “It better have been.”

You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. “Jason. I’m not made of glass, you can’t expect other people to act like it.”

“I don’t. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he can’t do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.”

You sigh, “Just don’t do anything harsh. Please. I think he’s worried you’re gonna punch him.”

“He should be,” he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly. 

You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, “You’re not going to. Right?”

He doesn’t answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, “Right?”

His eyes roll, “Yeah, fine.”

You smile, holding his face. “I love you.”

He huffs as though he’s inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. “I love you.”

He looks you in the eye, face serious. “You promise me it doesn’t hurt?”

“I promise,” you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.

“Dick!”

The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.

He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes. 

“Where is he?”

Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding. 

Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.

He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. “Stephanie?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “But let me know when you find him, I wanna see—”

But Jason’s moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.

He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.

There’s a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what they’re seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail. 

“Really? Really?” Jason shouts. 

“It was an accident! It was a fucking—” 

He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.

“Are you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherf—”

Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.

Dick takes a breath, “Dude, it’s fine now, it’s not that big of a—”

Jason recoils, “‘It’s not a big deal’? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!”

He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him. 

Dick throws his hands up in front of him, “Wait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?”

Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. “You can’t call a truce if you’re the only one who did anything wrong.”

“I…” It doesn’t take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option. 

“Please?” Dick asks, nothing short of imploring. 

Jason relents—slightly—upon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as he’d been planning to. 

“I told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hard—” 

Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. “I know, I know—”

“Clearly you fucking don’t!” Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. “You sprained her wrist. You’ve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?”

Dick grimaces, “I do! I do, I just screwed up, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t—” Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, “Did you apologize to her?”

 “Yeah, of course I did!”

For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body. 

The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.

It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, “Idiot,” before pushing him once more. 

“Jason.”

Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption. 

You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.

He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.

“I didn’t hit him.”

⭐️ your options are: (1) reblog fics or (2) be a little bitch ⭐️

[nezuscribe]

(previous part)

it's been a week since you've spoken to arranged!gojo, and he feels like he's about to start going crazy.

you don't speak during your meals, not even when he addresses you in a question. sometimes you spare him a glance, but he'd still rather see your icy glare than see nothing at all.

and he knows he fucked up. he knows that you seeing him alone with anya was perhaps the worst possible place you could’ve caught him, but he's been almost begging you to listen to him, to hear his side. but every time he goes to explain you leave abruptly, leaving him alone, feeling the looks of pity from those around the two of you.

and you know you're being petty. after all, the two of you are only bound by words, nothing else. if anything, the two of you were just becoming friends, so this shouldn't hurt you as much as it does.

but you hear the whispers of the ladies, hear of their secret proposals of how gojo would surely bed them if they just asked. how miserable he must be trapped with you, how this marriage is ruining his life. and you know anya, know about her history with him. before you were his wife you were the higher echelon wallflower, listening to all the gossip, observing from afar.

you've gathered some ideas in your head as to why he might want to speak with you. perhaps he wants to gently break the news that he's found a mistress, one that he actually loves. or that maybe he's already had one and now you know why he's been so secretive.

so the more he tries to talk to you, the more you pull away. you don't know why he cares so much, why this even matters to him. if anything, you feel like he should be content with your silence.

but he's not, and gojo grows more restless by the hour.

he decides he can't live like this anymore. tonight he's going to make you listen to him, even if you want nothing to do with him.

you're holed up in your room, talking with alina as she dabs lavender oil on your neck before you go to sleep. you know she knows about your silence with gojo, but ever friend, she does nothing to bring it up.

well, she wouldn't have to if he didn't come knocking feverishly at your door.

you watch in your mirror as she peeks her head out, her gasp of surprise causing a sinking pit to form in your stomach. you can hear how she scrambles with the titles of my lord, how she explains that you're nearly about to go to sleep.

it's late, the only light is the flickering of the candles on your nightstand. he should be asleep by now.

gods, you wonder for the millionth time this week, why does he care so much?

alina finishes up, closing the door slightly as she turns to you, her eyes finding yours in the mirror.

"i'm sorry my lady," she bows her head almost apologetically, "but my lord wants to talk to you. he's requested me to leave...if you'll excuse me," she bows, quickly leaving, not giving you any time to actually excuse her. you know she can't stay any longer, but you do wish she put up more of a fight. you watch her skirt bustle away, the door being left slightly ajar.

you try to act nonchalant, continuing to dab the oil onto your wrists as you look down, even when you hear the door click shut, even when you can feel his presence several feet behind you.

you sigh through your nose, heat rising to your cheeks.

"what?" you bite out, your own voice shocking you. you want to get this over with, not too desperate to hear about how he's ready to take on a mistress and shun you away.

you can hear him take in a deep breath, your eyes briefly looking up in the mirror to catch his, the same ones that make your knees weak, and avert your gaze.

"you haven't spoken to me in over a week," he says after a beat of silence.

you shrug indifferently, despite the fact that he could probably ask you the specific amount of hours it's been since the two of you had talked and you'd give an accurate number.

"i've been busy," you murmur, taking your earrings off as you place them gently in the little glass bowl to the side.

he doesn't say anything about your blatant lie, just nods slowly, as if he understands.

"i missed hearing you talk," gojo tells you quietly, almost as if his voice had been stuck in his throat, and you wonder if any man before him had ever tried to sweet talk his wife before he told her about his new mistress.

you don't say anything, still refusing to look at him as you stand up from your seat, turning off one of the candles near you as you smooth out some of the wrinkles of your nightgown.

"is this what you really want to tell me gojo?" you say bluntly, looking to the side momentarily, getting a longer look at his bulky figure, how he tries to make himself seem smaller, "that you miss my stupid jokes and dull stories?"

"they're not stupid," he quickly cuts in, his voice a little stronger, brows furrowed, "and i like your stories."

you roll your eyes, moving around the bed, to the side where he's not, and fluff your pillows. you've never found this useful, but it gives you something to do with your hands other than fidgeting with them.

truth be told, you're reflecting. you're scared of what it is he has to say, and so you try to appear stronger, and less caring, despite the fact that it's tearing you apart.

you try not to feel self-conscious of the fact that this is his first time ever seeing your room, or the fact that it's so bland. you didn't come to this estate with many things, and so you've tried to spruce up the space as much as you can, but aside from the few flowers and paintings on the wall, you fear it looks bland compared to everything else he's seen.

"and no," gojo adds, running a hand through his already tousled white hair as his arms crossed over his chest, and you finally allow yourself to stare at him, "that's not all i wanted to say."

he paused for a second.

"i don't know why i followed her out, or why i even stayed to hear her speak, but she kept saying these things about..." he trails off, gnawing on his lips as your eyes narrow slightly.

"me?" you finish for him, and his eyes dart to yours.

gojo nods a little bit, arms bulging a little bit as if remembering what she had said.

"i'm used to people staring at me, i lived with it my entire life. but with you, people..." he struggles to find words, "people stare longer. and i don't know why."

you raise a brow.

"do you want me to explain?" you say and he looks at you briefly, almost in a brazen way.

he shakes his head as if he had steered off track.

"that's beside the point. what i wanted to tell you is that she...she was saying some nonsense and i was about to leave until she offered for me to stay at the hostelry she was at." his blue eyes are wavering, his finger itching to get closer to you. this stupid bed is in the middle of you two and he wishes it were gone.

your breathing hitches a little bit, and you hope he doesn't see the sad tilt on your lips.

"so i banished her. or, well, i guess you saw her and then i banished her, but i would've done it regardless," he explains hurriedly, "look, i'm sorry...really sorry. if you want me to-"

"you banished her?" you cut him off, voice raised slightly in confusion.

his mouth gapes open for a second, and then blinks slowly, nodding.

"of...course," he tilts his head, his gorgeous head, slightly "you know that i am married, right? to you? she was offering to-"

"i thought you were going to tell me that you slept with her. o-or i don't know! that you were going to make her your mistress or something!" you spew out, your voice raised as you pace around the floor, moving a little bit closer to him as his eyes widen.

"why would you ever think that?" gojo says in a panicked tone, nothing like the man who commanded the northern army, but more like somebody who was watching his world burn in front of him.

"why?" you exclaim, shocked, "why? are you daft? every single woman wants to sleep with you! every single time we host those dinners, o-or we go to those parties, they look at you and they look at me and they pity you. i hear the whispers of the ladies, how they wouldn't mind being the other woman."

gojo hears the way your voice wavers, how your lips tremble, and the way you try not to let your bottom lip quiver. he sees the way you try to stay strong, to keep your image unbridled, but right now he feels like he's watching you break and he doesn't know what to do.

"so? what makes you think i'd do anything with them?" gojo argues, his voice raised a little bit, not in shouting, but in genuine disbelief.

you take a moment to step back and observe his behavior, and a nagging voice in your head tells you that he's telling you the truth. that he's concerned and worried, that maybe all he came to tell you tonight was an apology.

but that can't be correct.

so you sigh, your arms crossed over your chest protectively.

"i...i don't know," you murmur, "you sleep in another wing, you're always away. i thought...maybe..." you can't meet his eyes, fidgeting with the ring on your finger.

gojo takes a step forward, lips parted, cheeks rosy and flushed.

the two of you don't say anything for a minute, his chest heaving up and down. you feel like there's a weight both removed and added onto your shoulder.

"why didn't you say anything?" he whispers, "did you think...did you think i was...?" he can't finish the sentence, the words themselves too gruesome.

he doesn't say anything as he takes another tentative step closer.

you watch him, your eyes mirroring one another.

"i made a vow to you," his voice is heavy, traveling across the spanning stone walls, going deep into your bones, "and even if you prefer me to be your friend, i'll keep to that vow till the day i die."

your eyes gloss over, lips trembling.

you don't say anything, taking a couple steps forward as you smash against his chest, face crumpling against the stone wall of his torso as you hug him tightly, hoping that he can't feel the tears that seep through his nightshirt.

never in your life has somebody made a promise to you. and never in your life has somebody kept to that promise.

"thank you," you murmur, your voice muffled as his arms wrap around your body, steady and strong.

"and anyways, i'd prefer to be married to you than those miserable women any day," he mumbles into your hair and you laugh wetly, squeezing your arms tighter.

"really?" you say, tears blurring your vision.

"really," he hums, not able to say anything because he fears what you'd say if he told you that he'd rather be your husband and your friend. but he'd keep that inside, respecting your wishes.

if only he knew you wished the same.