#that said. his emotional state is deeply relatable

[sforzesco]

Dante's Divine Comedy (Inferno, Canto VIII. trans. Robert M. Durling) / 10 December 1513 letter from Machiavelli to Francesco Vettori, trans. Alan Gilbert

[typing-catastrophe]

jealous!ford x reader headcanons

pre relationship:

depending on his current mood and state of mind, his reaction to someone showing romantic interest in you ranges from:

1) heartache,

feels like he doesn't deserve you, that he isn't good enough for you, he's not your type and also he is too old for you

self-esteem on the floor, feels like a kicked puppy seeing you flirt with someone else

over 2) mild annoyance; 'what's so interesting about them?'

what could they possible give you? why are you even talking to them, you already said you aren't interested in them

to 3) almost hostile towards the other person

all in all just one big mess of feelings

he's not good with them okay

confused and frustrated by his emotions; spends a lot of time overthinking them, in order to rationalise and understand them

too insecure and doubtful to tell you about his feelings, but too easily agitated to not be jealous when someone comes up to ask for your number

tells himself he has no right to feel that way, and yet...

in relationship:

protective and maybe a little possessive. maybe a bit more than a little. okay, a lot

definitely a lot more than he shows

(related to the first points pre-rls) very rare reaction: amused. god complex activated. who do they think they are? do they really think you would be interested in them? tch, please.

when he sees a guy flirting with you, he will come up behind you, put his arm around your waist and stare the guy down

the scene where he intimidates the bus driver, just to any shady guy who won't leave you alone.

insecurities, so soo many of them

'You could have anyone you want. Why would you wanna be with me?' *

that man was bullied his entire youth, never had a proper relationship and holds so much trauma and shame - it's the glue that holds him together at this point

ford is deeply afraid to loose you

through something supernatural or otherwise dangerous yes, but also trough some stupid mistake on his side and interpersonal problems

he is afraid he will mess up one day. then you will start seeing him as someone not worthy of your love and find someone better

it is one constant battle between his low self-worth and his god complex/admittedly somewhat inflated ego

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: longer piece with this trope will follow soon(ish), stay tuned :P poor ford, doesn't know how to feel his feelings appropriately (same dude, same) * 'jealous' by eyedress

[jointherebellion215]

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood. 

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.” 

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

[theunsinkableship1]

Lukola, maybe it's a fear about love.

This is Lukolaland. Do not read if you're not a shipper. This is not factual, just pure speculation.

The curious case of the Ross and Rachel reference

L insists on comparing Penelope and Colin to Ross and Rachel from Friends, but it doesn’t make much sense.

Ross and Rachel from Friends and Penelope and Colin from Bridgerton both explore the theme of "will-they-won't-they" romance, but their dynamics differ. Ross and Rachel's relationship is marked by a series of breakups and makeups, driven by misunderstandings and differing life goals. Their chemistry is undeniable, but their timing is often off, leading to a tumultuous journey before their eventual reconciliation.

Penelope and Colin, on the other hand, begin as close friends, with Penelope harboring secret feelings for Colin. Their relationship evolves more subtly, with the tension coming from Penelope's hidden identity as Lady Whistledown and Colin's obliviousness to her feelings. Unlike Ross and Rachel's dramatic ups and downs, Penelope and Colin's story is one of gradual realization and deepening affection. While both couples capture the complexities of love, Ross and Rachel's journey is marked by overt drama, whereas Penelope and Colin's is more about unspoken emotions and trust.

Why is he making the connection with the two couples then?

The blurred lines are at play here again.  He can relate to Colin in many ways, but I think he is more like a Penelope in the Lukola situation. L said that he believes in love at first sight:

“If I meet someone I know immediately. There’s a difference between me and Colin.” “I’ve felt that. I’ve met someone and been immediately infatuated with them. That’s something that’s more me than Colin.”

He also stated that he felt “warmth from N immediately “and he recalls their first meeting very well for someone who has a bad memory. This meeting was probably important as it was so well preserved in his memory and his heart.

I think that he had been crushing on her since day 1 and his infatuation has only grown stronger over the years and turned into Love. My guess is that J probably realized that he had more than friendly feelings towards N in 2022, maybe he didn’t really admitted that to himself before she pointed it out, maybe he knew all along and tried to suppress it. But I’m sure that he knew what he was feeling during the filming of season 3.

I’m not sure that he made a move at the time as he was fresh off a long-term relationship, and I have the feeling that he truly admires, he looks up to her, N maybe he thought that she was out of his league, he loves her company, he clearly finds her attractive, intelligent, kind and funny. Maybe he was comfortable only fantasizing about her, maybe he was waiting for the right time and trying to build up the courage to cross the lines. I don’t think that they’ve dated, maybe they’ve had hook ups . But I don’t think they have had a serious thing but I’m sure they’ve always had serious feelings towards each other. That’s probably why he sees their situation as a Ross and Rachel situation. He was in a relationship when he met her and she was probably in a relationship when he wasn’t anymore.

N doesn’t believe in love at first sight, she said that friends-to-lovers is the healthiest way to go, because “you’ve skipped all of the posturing and all of the initial things you do when you meet someone—you try and pretend to have only nice underwear, or that you don’t sit on the couch and eat your dinner off your lap. Because they’ve been friends first, they go, ‘I know you.’ Deep, true, abiding love comes from when you love the bones of someone. You love them deeply in their entirety. That’s a thing that you get with friends-to-lovers, because you love them first as a friend.”

I believe that N also always loved L, but she is very level-headed, practical, and down-to-earth. She probably thought that it was important for them to be friends to work together and portray their friends to lovers’s storyline. She took him under her wing as she was more experienced. I think that L was a nice surprise as she couldn’t have wished for a better partner. I think that she has always valued their friendship, and loved him. She had certainly put him in the friendzone as he was taken and they were working together, she may also had never really considered him as a potential boyfriend as he was a little younger and less mature at the time. She needs a significant amount of time to warm up to people, especially a partner, I think that she gradually fell for L charm and qualities over the years.  She found comfort , stability and felt at ease with him. She likes him because he is sweet, generous, dependable, has no ego, and laughs at her jokes. She also finds him attractive. I think that she noticed the effects that she has on him. But I’m sure that she was building walls and compartmenting the whole time. She may even have rejected his feelings explicitly.

N has stated that” she hasn’t been in love since she was like 9 and she can’t imagine t it”. N is extremely cautious when it comes to love,  and she relies heavily on logic when it comes to her romantic endeavors, she is looking for “the one�� as she takes love extremely seriously. She might have thought that L was not the ideal partner ignoring what she was feeling or failing to recognize it as romantic love. She has a clear vision for herself and her life and she would stay away from what could potentially deter her from achieving her goals. N could also have a fear of romantic love as she knows that it’ll make her lose control, she may perceive love as source of vulnerability, and potentially pain and disappointment.

Both may have been confused at times about their own feelings, they were really committed to their characters and the lines between reality and fiction were blurred. It could have taken time to understand what they were feeling. And you know they didn’t want to mess up whatever they had going on.

After the filming of season 3 they both went their separate ways, I can’t help to think that L was kind of hurt in a way and maybe heartbroken during his HBS, “Aquarian guys want to know that you’re as serious about him as he is about you, so if you’re closed-off emotionally or physically distant, he might just assume he isn’t wanted he was”. L was certainly trying to get over his feelings. And he got into a situationship, he is a relationship kind of guy, but I’m not sure that he was not taking A too seriously and he still isn’t in my opinion.

We all saw what happened when L and N reunited, it’s flagrant! During this PR tour their hidden feelings came back to the surface, the PR may have encouraged them, they couldn’t help themselves and they overdid it. L was totally enamored with her, girlfriend or not. N was playful and flirty, but she fell into her own trap. You could see the power struggle in Italy, there was a lot of tension, and they came to an agreement of sort there. In the beginning of the tour N was quite jaded, but the time they spent together changed everything.

If you look in N’s eyes, you can clearly see the shift, she was opening to him, her walls were crumbling, she was openly falling in love with an Englishman. L was more assertive, bolder, more territorial. They were happy in Brazil and Ireland. N was letting her guard down. By the end, N started to believe in love.

We all know what happened. I think that N is deeply hurt, he crushed her intentionally or not, she had reservations for a long time and the doubts about their compatibility, his maturity , their priorities and social needs… Everything  that could be barrier, a reason why this could be a mistake, was proven to be true.

In my opinion, L could be hurt and petty about something too, but I believe that he needs to apologize and clean up his mess. He needs to find out what he really needs for himself whether this includes N or not and proceed with caution to achieve his goals.

N needs a best friend in her life partner, someone fun and loving, someone steady she can trust and who supports her, he has proven himself to be capable of that. She needs someone who is not hesitant and honest about his feelings.

L needs a life partner who is less pessimistic and cautious about love, he needs to be sure of her feelings and needs to be her” number one”. He insisted on good communication as it seems to be source of misunderstandings and conflicts between them.

I think that life is really short and what they have is really precious and rare. It’ll be shame and quite disheartening to see it go to waste.

I believe they could have  a beautiful and long lasting relationship if they find a way to acknowledge properly what they are feeling , communicate efficiently and be patient and understanding. They already have what it takes to be in a strong supportive successful and fulfilling relationship.

They should really consider it (for our sakes also).

*Correction: I've come to realize that I made a mistake. When Nicola said she hasn't been in love since she was 9, she was actually making a comparison with Penelope.

[chigirizzz]

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK — I. SAE

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/a little bit of comfort, gn! reader, descriptions of physical symptoms of anxiety, ooc sae??, not proofread

summary: love is confusing. a part of you knows sae loved you; another part of you makes you question that. if both parts can't coexist, was your relationship worth fighting for?

wc: 2.3k

notes: this one was difficult to write man. i literally rewrote almost every paragraph dozens of times until i thought this entire thing was worth of being posted. while writing this i was literally biting my own fist out of frustration lmao.

»»——⍟——««

being a professional football player for sure brings a lot of things in your life: fame, money, awards, fans, haters, sponsors, you name it. but one thing that no one ever seems to talk about is the painful feeling inside someone’s entire body when under the extreme pressure—the shortness of breath, the rapid beating of the heart, the big knot on the throat, the tightening of the stomach, the burning sensation in the eyes due to increased blood circulation, and so on.

sae was used to those feelings. it was part of his life as an athlete—it was part of his life ever since he was a young boy, like when he had to get ready to leave his home country to live in another one, practically alone, without his family. for days, young itoshi sae felt in panic, nauseous and was disturbed by severe headaches.

it’s funny how emotions can make you physically sick, right?

of course, anyone can feel like this—it's completely normal and it’s what makes us humans. for a singer, those symptoms of sickness might happen mostly on the stage; for a baker, those nerves might happen mostly when getting ready the perfect wedding cake; for a writer, that anxiety might happen mostly when publishing a book, afraid of what people will think of it and if it will sell well.

for football players, those sensations are, most of the time, absorbed by their bodies and minds the moment they step on the field.

sae falls into this category.

then, at the end of the day, people can still live through situations that make them feel anxious outside of their professions—perhaps they have to get ready for a date; perhaps they got lost and can't find the right path to go home.

sae does not fall into this category. he is a rational man who avoids people and feelings not related to his career. he always knows what to do and what not to do.

but today, today is different. today sae itoshi is in the second category, and he might be stuck in there for a while, who knows.

sitting on the edge of the bed you both share, he inhales deeply as his hands make their way to grab said edges. the soft material of the bedspread under his fingers helped him cool down a little bit. so soft ♡. he exhaled after holding his breath for a few seconds.

he could hear your sobs.

you were sitting on the comfy sofa placed in the small, elegant balcony connected to your shared bedroom. although the curtains were blocking the outside view, the chilly, cold wind of the night would constantly move the brownish pink curtains to give the man the perfect—and heartbroken—sight of your figure in a curled up position, crying, with no sign of stopping so soon.

(brownish pink curtains… you wanted to buy those because it reminded you of sae's hair. of your boyfriend's hair. he could still hear your laugh when you suggested buying those.)

you too were in a psychological and physical distress; you too were in the second category—the difference, however, was that you have been in that same category for a while; meanwhile sae has only entered it today.

sae didn’t like the feeling of his sunken heart, of the big knot on his throat and of the tightening of his stomach’s walls when looking at you so miserable like that. and the worst part? he was the reason you were in that state.

in case you didn't understand yet, my dear reader, itoshi sae broke your heart once again and now your relationship is at a great risk of ending. by saying that sae has officially entered the "second category", we get the idea that said man is now anxious, scared, and physically sick with the thought of losing you—the anxiety that he only felt on the field and never in his personal life? he's feeling it right now.

and it’s only now that he understands how much he disappointed you ever since you two started dating. he remembers it all now: how he didn’t show any interest in your thoughts and hobbies (which is not true, he was just devoid of emotions but it still hurt you), how cold his responses could get, how he never denied that his career was the number one priority, the dry messages he sent you when you were excited, how mean he could be to other people even if you’d tell him how much you hated that attitude of his, how he would just gave you a gift after a fight instead of properly apologizing, how he stood up on you several times on a restaurant, all ready for him to arrive for your date, only to not appear because he preferred to stay late at practice and ended up forgetting the plans you both made…

the true—although not surprising at all—is, the oldest itoshi wasn’t good with feelings; he knew what to do and what not to do during matches, but when it came to human beings, he didn’t have an idea of what he should do or what to say—and let’s be honest, he didn't care about it either. sae did love you, though. the way he looks at you proves it; the marks he would leave on your body during nights so full of lust and romance that would be capable of shedding emotional tears from aphrodite’s eyes proved it; the way he'd roll his eyes and proceed to place soft kisses on your fingers when you complained of the water being too hot after finishing washing the dishes proved it.

the engagement ring he bought for you that is hidden in a safe place where you couldn’t find it proved it.

and now there might not be a day where he could put the ring around your finger and watch you giggle like a teenager in love.

his heart weighs heavier now, almost like it’s getting ready to be swallowed by the black hole formed on his stomach. fuck. he passes his hand through his reddish brown hair, tugging a few strands.

he got out of the bed and made his way to the door of the small balcony. there you were, still in a curled up position. your sobs have stopped already but a sniff or two could be heard.

“talk to me.” the genius didn’t know exactly what his tone was. tiredness? begging? regret? i-don’t-care-at-all-stop-acting-like-this? this man sure was confusing. there was no response, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of the leaves of the trees moving with the wind, almost mocking, not sae, but you.

the way you rolled your eyes was unknown to him.

“seriously, y/n. head inside so we can talk—”

“fuck you, itoshi, leave me alone.” your intention wasn’t to be mean to him, you didn't think before speaking—it hurt both you and him—, but sometimes harsh words were better in specific times. this is a specific time, you should have shared your thoughts a long time ago. “you wanna talk now? you usually just buy me roses without saying anything.”

“i’m trying to fix things up.”

you turned your head to look at him, a sad smile on your lips. “and i appreciate it, really, but i’m just so fucking tired, sae.” your voice broke on the word “tired”. “and you just want to talk now because i said i was thinking of breaking up with you during our fight earlier? why, sae, why…” more tears were threatening to fall, voice still breaking.

teal colored eyes darkened. you were now looking at the view in front of you. you guys lived in a really peaceful neighborhood with big, expensive houses. the view was nothing special (a few trees, a few parked cars, a park near you), but it wasn't bad either. it's not like the view mattered as long as you lived with the love of your life.

even if said love of your life could sometimes be difficult to put up with.

you remember when you started dating him and met his younger brother, who had the audacity to say with a serious face that you would regret dating your boyfriend. although you now understand the point rin was trying to make, you didn't regret being with sae; you didn't regret anything at all. and if you were to be honest, you wanted to ignore the fight and just spend the night watching a movie or something, but you had to act like a mature adult and find a better solution.

were you, though, being a mature adult by giving that response to sae when he said he wanted to talk? you were genuinely confused.

sighting and while wiping your tears, you patted the uncopied place of the sofa beside you. "ok, let's talk. sit." the man did what you told and you moved away a few centimeters to give him more space. it was… silence. a mix of comfortable and uncomfortable silence.

without looking at you, sae rested his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch a little by surprise, but paid no mind and let him interlock his fingers with yours, your thumb now caressing his pinky finger.

"what… what do you want to say?"

"were you telling the truth earlier?"

"about me breaking up with you?" a "mhm" was his answer. "yes, i was ." by the corner of your eye you noticed he stared at you after those words. your mind couldn't decipher what his thoughts were. "i don't like being stood up on a date two times in the same month, y'know?"

the man sighted. "i was busy with practice. and i literally warned you at a good time, you just got to the place too early."

you let out a chuckle in an ironic way. "you did warn me, yes, and i wouldn't mind if it was once or twice, but enough is enough, itoshi." it was the second time of the night—scratch that, it was the second time in your entire life that you called him by his surname. even when you were only friends, you would call him by his first name or by cute, silly nicknames. the second time the word itoshi came out of your mouth, it was full of venom; venom that seemed to wrap so tightly around his heart. "i know your career is extremely important to you. i understand that and i want to support you in any way, shape and form, however, things can't keep going like this."

"i see." the reddish brown haired man looked at both your hands still together. you didn't let go of him, you didn't want to and he didn't want it either. “i understand.”

he should say something more. something more profound, more romantic, capable of making you stay, but what can the prodigy do about it? sure, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay with him, but the decision was yours and he had to take it, whether he liked it or not; whether it’d left him heartbroken or not. besides, he now understands just how much he confused you with his true feelings. you both were tired of the constant kiss and make up.

just how sae could be an egoistic on the field, he could be also one on his private life (just ask literally anybody and they will confirm).

you let go of his fingers to turn your arm so that your palm was facing upwards, in contact with his, and you interlock your fingers again. “it’s not easy for me but… i feel like it’s the best choice.”

you spent a few seconds looking into each other's eyes, until sae leaned his forehead against yours and you did the same, with your eyes closed and enjoying the cold night breeze hitting your bodies, the breeze contrasting with the bittersweet heat formed in your hearts.

“so… is it decided…”

“yes… it is.” you were glad that he respected your decision and that you discussed the matter without further discussion. “i’ll still pack my things today. in the morning i’ll call a friend and ask them to stay at their house for a few days. then i’ll see how it goes.”

“hm.”

he offered to help you pack your bags, but you refused—him helping you would only make you more emotional and rethink your decision. that night, you and your now ex-boyfriend slept on the same bed, back to back.

»»——⍟——««

"hey,” it was now the next morning and you had just gotten ready to leave the house. sae called you before you had a chance to get out the door. “do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

a smile formed on your lips. now that you were changing your path in life, it seemed that you just lost a heavy weight on your shoulders. sae didn't like that, but again, he was in no position to make you stay. “ thank you sae, really. the same goes for you, though. and don’t overwork yourself.”

those words and the little chuckle that followed hurt sae like a bitch. you always told him to not work himself till exhaustion, yet he always ignored you…

“well… goodbye, itoshi.” before he’d answer, you stepped out of the door, closing it behind you.

as the sound of the engine of your friend’s car starting up reached his ears, he made his way to the bedroom, to reach out for the engagement ring he bought for you. he layed on the bed, hugging the tiny ring’s box, hot tears running silently down his cheeks to the pillow.

you were gone. you were officially gone.

»»——⍟——««

tagging: @izzylovestnbhd

thank you for reading. likes, reblogs and coments are appreciated ♡

[littlest-w01f]

Safe

Rhysand x Alora (See Alora here)

For @officialrhysandweek

Rhysand week 2024 Masterlist

Day 5: Survivor

Summary: Rhysand and Alora are both survivors, now Rhysand seeks comfort in the female he saved long ago

Cw: Rhysand's UtM trauma, Alora's SA trauma, hurt/comfort

The stars were shining brightly, and there was peace in the streets of Velaris, but inside the House of Winds, Rhysand sat, unfocused, staring off into the distance, he had returned from Under the Mountain just a few days ago, still ghostly pale.

He had asked to be alone from his Inner Circle not sure how he could face them after what he had been through, he had tried to sleep but he couldn't, he had thrown up everything he had eaten for the past days, at least he had been able to appreciate the taste of it when all he had eaten for fifty years was bland scraps.

He pulled on his pair of velvet sweats and made his way out to the balcony, looking up at the sky, free, he was free, he reminded himself.

As Rhysand stood on the balcony, the cool night air caressed his skin, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat that was there Under the Mountain. He closed his eyes, letting the sound of the city below lull him into a state of calm. The memory of Amarantha's touch, her cruel laughter, still lingered, but he pushed it away, focusing instead on the freedom that now belonged to him and his people.

The wind whispered in his ear, carrying the scent of flowers from the gardens within the house. Rhys breathed deeply, savouring the sweet aroma. Moments like these reminded him of the beauty that still existed in the world, despite the darkness that often threatened to consume it.

The pain, the humiliation, the feeling of being completely powerless against Amarantha's cruelty. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to suppress the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

He tried to calm himself and he then knew where he had to go, he put on the matching shirt to his sweats and made his way to the library, he knew everyone would be asleep as he was quiet with his movements, not wanting to spook any Priestesses. He winnowed into the room of one of the oldest that had been there.

A 300-year-old High Fae, asleep in her bed, her strawberry blond hair a mess as she slept peacefully. Rhysand couldn't help but smile, seeing her so as peace.

As Rhysand approached the sleeping form of his beloved Priestess, Alora, his heart pounded against his chest, his relation with Alora was a long one, but he just considered her daughter like. The sight of her peaceful slumber brought a sense of comfort to him, something that had been missing since his return. He studied her delicate features, her fair skin glowing softly under the moonlight that filtered through the window.

He moved closer, his hand hovering over her shoulder before gently laying it down. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her breathing steady and rhythmic. Rhys felt a pang of guilt for disturbing her rest, yet he needed her presence more than ever.

He leaned down, whispering her name softly. "Alora…" His voice was barely audible, filled with affection.

Alora awoke with a start, looking at Rhysand through sleepy eyes, "Rhys?" She sat up, "Are... Are you alright?"

Rhysand smiled warmly at Alora, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm fine, my dear," he reassured her, his voice gentle. "Just needed someone to be with." He sat down beside her on the bed, taking her hand in his own.

Alora's concern softened into understanding, and she nodded. "Of course, Rhys. Anything you need, I'm here for you." Her fingers intertwined with his, providing a comforting warmth.

Rhys looked into her eyes, searching for the right words to express the turmoil within him. "It's hard to believe it's over," he said finally. "After all those years, trapped in that hellhole…" He shuddered, remembering the darkness and cruelty of Amarantha's court. "Sometimes, I wonder if it was all just a dream."

"I used to think that too..." Alora frowned, as if reliving her own assault, her heterochromatic eyes filled with sorrow, "I... I used to wonder if my mind was playing tricks on me... That I'd wake up and be right there in that cave... I'll always be here for you, however long you need." Alora held Rhysand's hands, looking deep into his pained eyes.

Rhysand squeezed Alora's hands, drawing strength from her unwavering support. "Thank you, my dear," he murmured, his gaze never leaving hers. "Knowing that you're here, that we have each other, makes all the difference... I don't think anyone else would quite understand... And I'm not open to talking to just anyone."

He let out a slow breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. "It's the little things that haunt me most," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "The taste of rotting flesh, the stench of decay, the feeling of Amarantha's touch…" A shudder ran through him, and he closed his eyes, recalling the horrific memories.

Alora's thumb traced gentle circles on the back of his hand, offering comfort without words. When Rhys opened his eyes again, they shimmered with unshed tears. "I just want to forget, she touched me... And the way my body-" he paused, his voice breaking.

"Shh, Rhys," Alora whispered with a soft tone, holding onto his hand, "It wasn't pleasure... You were not feeling pleasure." She cupped his cheeks, making him look at her. The male in front of her had helped her through her own hurt, her own pain, and said the very words that she now said to him when she told him how disgusted she was at her own bodily reaction. "Your body was just protecting itself from more pain..." Because what those males had her believing, what Amarantha had him believing, simply wasn't true. "And this won't last, you will heal, in spite of everything that happened to you."

Hearing Alora's reassuring words, Rhys managed a small smile, though it was clear the pain was still etched deeply into his features. "You're right.... I know you are. I was right when I said it for you." he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes, it feels like its going to swallow me whole."

He leaned in closer to Alora, resting his forehead against her shoulder. The tender gesture seemed to soothe both of their troubled souls. "Your presence means more to me than you'll ever know," he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Alora hugged Rhysand, both their faces pressed into each other's necks. "You're my anchor," she whispered, Rhysand's eyes closed as he savoured the warmth of her touch. "Without you, I don't know how I would've survived those years here."

He opened his eyes, gazing up at her with a mix of gratitude and adoration. "You're my home, Alora. My safe haven." His voice trembled with emotion, she was all that was left of his family, she was his oldest family at heart, revealing the depth of his feelings for her. "I love you," he said simply, the words spoken with a sincerity that left no room for doubt.

"I love you too." Alora than sat up straight, leaning onto the bed, moving slightly to make space for him, "Come now, you should try to get rest, I'll be right here."

At Alora's invitation, Rhysand slid into the bed beside her, his body tired but his mind still racing. Despite the turmoil within him, being near Alora brought him a measure of solace.

He turned towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. The familiar scent of her, the warmth of her body, it was enough to chase away some of the shadows haunting him.

"Thank you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. It was a simple act. Alora pulled him gently over her, rocking him to sleep, just as he had done for her. As Alora gently rocked Rhysand to sleep, her thoughts drifted back to the night he had saved her. The memory of his strong arms holding her, his soothing whispers, it had been a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

Now, as she cradled him in her embrace, she felt a deep sense of gratitude and love for this male who had become her rock, her protector, her everything. She stroked his hair, watching as his eyelids fluttered closed, his breathing slowing until he slipped into slumber.

Alora remained awake for the night, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her own. In this moment, surrounded by the silence of the night and the warmth of Rhysand's body.

She stayed up when he woke up panicking, she stayed through him screaming, through the shadows covering them both in eerily stillness. Because she had gone through this, the memory of it faded but never fully gone, stuck with her forever.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Rhysand Taglist - @yeonalie}

{RhysandWeek Taglist - @andreperez11}

[ikamigami]

Nxbxbbcbcbcbnxbxbxn

Today's episode heavy breathing was just everything

Moon shouldn't wait till Sun run away to go to him..

But I think that he just needed some time to think what to say..

Cause I knew it! He said to Solar that he said what was needed to be said.. which definitely implies that Moon was afraid that he'll say something insensitive or start yelling at Sun bxbxbxbbxbx

He didn't want that..

And yeeeessss Moon finally realized that no one expects him to fix everything QwQ

And that Sun doesn't need him.. and even if Moon might have said that because he hates himself..

I think that in this situation he meant that Sun isn't going to die without Moon because he's so dumb etc..

I think that Moon finally distanced himself from.. himself.. (edit: cause actually yeah after thinking about it more it really was more about how Moon hates himself and that Nexus was better and that Sun shouldn't choose him but Nexus that's why he said that Sun doesn't need him nxnxnnxnxnxn I was happy too quickly QwQ)

Hdndnndndnndndndn

Which allowed him to see Sun for who he is.. for how awesome brother Sun is.. and to why Sun loves Nexus and that's why he said that he would still be Sun's brother even if Sun loved Nexus more than him and even if Sun chose Nexus to live because he regretted killing Nexus bxbxbxbbxbxb QwQ

I'm so happy that despite Moon being afraid to be left by Sun he put Sun's feelings first.. he was considerate about Sun's feelings QwQ bxbxnxnnxnxnxn

Moon really is trying his best.. it makes me so emotional QwQ 💞

Also Lunar whyyyyy jxnxnxnxnnx

Yes Sun shouldn't be held captive but Lunar should still know where Sun is or if he's away for a long time he should call him or something..

Like Sun shouldn't go out or be left alone for too long.. not in this state..

I hope that Solar and Moon will have a talk and Moon will apologize for getting to upset at Solar especially cause Solar told him such a nice thing and he was right that Sun needed to talk to Moon QwQ

And now onto Sun..

Hooo boi..

Sun can't hate Nexus which is not surprising to me at all..

And ofc Sun said that maybe he doesn't need Moon but he wants him in his life.. which I always knew..

And I think that this is exactly what Dark Sun was unable to understand.. or maybe he understood this while talking with Moon?

But at the same time I'm still angry that he traumatised Sun so much with forcing him to choose to kill his brother and that I think that he knew that Ruin put that bomb in Nexus' chest which is why Sun's magic killed Nexus bxbxbbxbddn

But the most important part I wanted to point out from today's episode is that Sun didn't agreed nor accept Moon's words of support nxnxnnxnxnxnxnxn

Which means that Sun doesn't agree with Moon that he's a good brother QwQ

He also still doesn't want to shout out what weigh on him..

And he didn't thank Moon bxbxbbx

Cause I think that Nexus' words truly felt like proof to Sun.. proof that he's a terrible person actually..

This is so awfully relatable..

Cause at first I thought that maybe it'll be the time for Sun to open up but noooo

And it's so relatable QwQ

Sun wanted to have Moon as a brother.. he wanted to have Nexus as a brother.. he wanted to have a family..

Damn it QwQ

And I only say that Nexus is damn liar xnnxnxnnxnxn (cause I watched the podcast)

I think that he blames everything on Sun cause it's easier to hate a person he loved the most..

Like no one knows that Nexus had that vivid dream - except Monty bxbxbxbbxbx

No one knows that Nexus was afraid of Sun dying..

Nexus was so worried but his worries were constantly ignored..

This is what is the most sad thing to me.. that Nexus never talked to Sun about anything..

They both loved each other so much and yet..

And also ha ha I don't believe that Nexus wanted to kill Sun the most..

Such bs when he never even hurt Sun at all - physically I mean..

I'll die on the hill that Nexus actually cared deeply about Sun but he was just confused..

It's not Sun's fault.. again..

And also people completely forgot that Moon's computer constantly was comparing Nexus to Moon - saying that Nexus is dumb compared to Moon and it tried to and downloaded all the knowledge into Nexus' head..

But no "it was all Sun bla bla bla"

Nexus never wanted to talk to Sun about anything.. he only yelled so Sun stopped mentioning Moon..

Maybe if Nexus talked with Sun like a normal person.. then maybe he'd learn that Sun still loved Moon despite all the abuse.. and then if he allowed Sun to talk about the past and grieve and move on and also talk about his own insecurities etc then Sun would definitely apologized and he'd give Nexus space to be his own person..

But also he actually gave him that space.. he saw how much Solar was making Nexus happy so he didn't bother them.. but also Nexus is such a liar cause he obviously enjoyed playing games with Sun.. they had so much fun.. he wasn't threatening Sun like Moon used to do.. and also Sun never wanted Nexus to fix everything.. and definitely not on his own..

And I think that Nexus knows that..

But I think that the fear of Sun dying was too much so it broke Nexus..

And it was easier for him to hate Sun then even admit that..

Nexus knows that he wasn't the best to Sun like he claims himself to be.. but he can't admit his wrongs..

Just like Moon used to do..

Solar was right that Nexus isn't that much different from Moon but he doesn't want to admit it..

And yet Nexus claimed to be the Moon cause he called Moon a knockoff..

I think that Nexus loved Sun deeply but he also couldn't admit to being wrong..

His ego is what destroyed him actually..

That's why he acted like Creator.. cause I was thinking for quite some time that the more egotistic Nexus was the more he acted like Creator.. cause Creator made them.. so he became like Creator who is a pure ego..

And also Nexus saying that Sun would probably purposely hurt him.. yeah sure Jan keep lying to yourself..

Like they say whatever makes you sleep better, right Nexie ^^

Poor Sun loves Nexus so much yet he has to suffer now because Nexus pretended till the end that he never cared and hates Sun 🥺😭💔

[hardlypartying]

idk if you have watched much press for s4 but maddie bailey is sending me with her responses to any riara related questions or fan praise…. (i think she’s obviously traumatised from the jiara situation.) anyway bailey made a comment about how kiara couldn’t stand murder let alone someone harming a fly which would make riara totally incompatible - and whilst i agree that’s true i also feel like her character would be the most capable of empathy/forgiveness compared to the other pogues!?!? like she’s so humanistic!!!!

would love your thoughts and a potential kiara deep dive 🫣

This ask is very apropos and you’re gonna need a drink…

I’m with you on the fact that Madison is probably traumatized by the way jiara was blown out of proportion by some fans and how that bled into their dynamics irl. It sucks so much that’s how it went down and I feel for them that they can’t be friends without things being made weird.

That being said, I don’t understand this extreme hatred she has towards Rafe potentially working his way to being a better person— regardless of him being someone who could potentially be with Kiara. Sure, don’t ship them but to say the fans of the ship don’t care about Kiara is… a take.

I 1000% agree with you, I think more so than anyone else Kiara as a character is capable of forgiveness given the opportunity to understand someone. Her heart and passion is what drew me in, she is so empathetic that its sometimes comes at her expense— I think that’s what her parents are terrified about when they see her hanging around the Pogues. Granted, the Pogues we know are genuine guys but her parents don’t know that or care to take the time to get to know them. Kiara did and since has had an unwavering loyalty to them. Her heart is so big and it’s perplexing to me that Madison thinks that there’s a cap on that? I personally don’t get it. I see Rafe as someone deeply troubled and who has never given a chance to get help— he lives with what he did everyday and resents himself for it. He was unwell, but rather than allowing him some grace, we’re what? Bashing him as he’s trying to make amends? Personally I believe that under the right circumstances any single one of the Pogues would’ve done what Rafe did regardless of who was in front of the gun, but their loyalty fits right on them and not on him. Rafe has continually expressed such a complex range of emotions about what he’s done and how he’s managing it— none of it was linear but that makes sense to me. I don’t expect him to have a clear path out of this but fucking hell he’s trying.

What really confuses me about their rhetoric is that they hate the idea of Kiara and Rafe because he’s dangerous, a murderer, psychotic, buzzword buzzword but then they’re happy to ship him with Sofia? Then all of a sudden it’s a cute relationship and he’s found his match. Dpmo. If they really believed Rafe was that dangerous why would they want Sofia, who is completely innocent in all this, to be with someone who has the potential to be violent again 🤨 Bc she’s “changed” him? It’s insipid and hypocritical.

Now for a mini Kie deep dive— at first I didn’t really get why Madison was playing Kiara like that during their scene together. She looked genuinely terrified seeing Rafe and her body language was so telling. And in my mind I’m surprised by her reaction because we’re seeing him heheing it up with Sofia and making business moves like? What are you afraid of? Venture capitalists? Yes. But then I took a moment to think about the state of mind Kiara was in.

I don’t think it was an extreme thing she did to pull out the knife. In her point of view someone just tried to kill her. Drown her no less and who else tried to drown her? Rafe. Her survival instincts were probably shooting through the roof because every time she sees Rafe, it’s never for a good reason. And you got to remember the very last time she saw him was at the beach with the sea turtles… not a good memory. She’s got no reason to trust he’s here out of the kindness of his heart, she doesn’t see/know him like that. All that mixed in with that batshit guy who’s hunting the Pogues down and the fact she’s alone— yeah the knife was a smart move. I think she would’ve done the same if Topper showed up tbh. I’m also proud of Rafe for not freaking out when seeing her hostility lmao, he’s come a long way. Back in the day (s2) if he saw that knife come out, he would’ve escalated the situation and made things worse.

And just to throw my two cents here— Rafe has been dogged this season. Oh my goooooddddd. You’re telling me he’s scattering his dad’s ashes alone, the only Cameron who cares? His dad who he last saw going off to South America with the Pogues? The Pogues who hate Ward and want him gone? And then his dad dies? Right after Rafe finally gets the approval and affection from Ward that he’s always wanted? And no one has given him an explanation of what went down? I’m surprised he hasn’t crashed out on them tbh. That little tiff he had with John B was too polite. In his mind 2+2= the Pogues killed Ward. Sarah and Rafe quite literally carried Ward to the tarmac together and it was all for nothing? No small reconciliation for the sake of Ward’s memory, after all he was their father. And he died for Sarah. It’s crazy to me.

Anyway I’m a spiteful person and the more people hate something the more I lean into it. The cast hating riara is hilarious to me because this ship was born out of nothing and now it’s in their mouths. Wild. I’m just upset that they’re facilitating hate towards people who ship riara, I’m of the mentality that you ship and let ship. Not gonna yuck anyone’s yum!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I can imagine Darling trying to initiate something sexual with Yves, but due to their inexperience, they fuck up and offend Yves. Yves would have that serious talk with Darling and they would be filled with so much guilt and embarrassment from the rejection and scolding. They apologize and vow that this will never happen again, and begin to over correct themselves, never having their hands make contact with Yves ever again. The only time the two would touch is if Yves is the one initiating it. Even then, Darling's hands are glued to their side, not wanting to make another mistake.

Do not make things sexual with Yves.

Yves knows you better than anyone. Even yourself. If he knows that you tend to beat yourself up repeatedly after being scolded, no matter how mild, he will take on a much more gentle approach.

Immediately after telling you off, receiving a satisfactory apology, and knowing that you're in a very vulnerable state, full of debilitating shame, Yves will soothe the pain by reverting back to being flirty and sensual in nature. Praising how you're such a sweet and good person for recognizing your transgressions and having a strong will to change for him. Intent is also very important, he will make sure you know he deeply appreciates that you find him extremely attractive, making lewd comments and/or touching him inappropriately is just not the way to express it.

He will take you in his arms, and let your hands touch him as long as it doesn't stray too near to his no-no territories. Yves wants you to know that he still yearns and craves for your skinship, he is not at all disgusted at you. He still wants you fully, just not in a way that degrades him.

The talk will be long. It will go to many different places relating to your views on sexuality, consent, and decorum. There will be guilt, there will be embarrassment, yes. But Yves is someone who likes to be clear, and direct and leaves no room for misunderstanding. He will firmly and lovingly lay out his expectations in the future, telling you what is okay and what is not for him. You are free to ask him any hypotheticals and he will answer it precisely without sparing any details.

You are free to tell Yves what you're expecting of him too even if he already knew what you thought of him. If you think that he led you on with his teasing, he will remind you that the nature of his flirting is nowhere as lewd, raunchy, or filthy as you thought it was. Looking back, it is true. It may be sensual, suggestive, exciting, and heart-fluttering, but it was never explicitly, horrendously sexual. What you said or tried to do completely came out of left field. Going through this route will leave you red-faced.

You will have to face some difficult emotions and heaps of awkwardness, you will cringe at yourself and at Yves. But, he will guide you through it all. He will teach you patiently how to navigate through your feelings and let go of any anger or hatred that you hold against yourself for doing something wrong. You will learn that there is nothing to be afraid of when having a conversation about heavy topics like these Most importantly, you will learn how to forgive yourself and move on.

You might think the 'magic' is gone after this chat. Perhaps you may think affection from you or he feels... icky and strange. But, it isn't. You would surprisingly enjoy it much more than before, now knowing what to do. It will be much more comfortable, knowing his boundaries and knowing yours.

Yves isn't cruel. He wouldn't let you marinade in your anguish for offending the man you care about, his goal wasn't to punish or hurt, it was to teach a lesson and rectify unacceptable behavior. He would only do so if you're hostile and defensive, refusing to accept what you did was depraved and blaming Yves for being too sensitive instead.

This lengthy, laborious conversation will occur regardless of your personality type. Because, while Yves may be the closest thing to a mind reader, you are not. But that is quite alright, he isn't afraid to feel, and he isn't afraid of awkwardness.

He loves you and only wishes to see you happy, thriving, and unburdened.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

fix of you

jack hughes x f!reader

warnings: swearing (c-word), mentions and descriptions of drugs and alcohol usage (class b), effects of weed, reader is kind of a relatable asshole at moments? (you can make your own conclusions), brief joke of alcoholism as an attempt at easing tension, mentions of cheating and subsequent emotional damage, mentions of casual relationships, toxic relationships/exes, internal dialogue, fluff and reassurance

psa: i'm gonna be honest, i don't remember writing most of this

word count: like 8.4k??

Rudy was so far gone – so pissed up his own arse – that he misjudged your horror for excitement. How he’d managed to do that was completely beyond you, because immediately after clamping your eyes on him, you’d frozen entirely, before ducking out of potential eyeline before he could see you.

He being…someone complicated – Lewis. Even the  mere sight of him left a sour taste in your mouth. 

Rudy, bless his pure soul, had turned to you, an eyebrow somehow raised despite his deeply intoxicated state of mind, and pouted.

“What?” You asked, awkwardly looking towards the bar to avoid being under his scrutiny.

“What was that? You looked at Lewis and just fuckin’, I don’t know, dipped.” Rudy slurred, spinning in his chair clumsily and looking straight at Lewis, who – thank fuck – was talking to the person next to him and seemingly oblivious to Rudy’s obviousness. 

You knew the two of them were friends, and somehow through the madness and spontaneity of the text Rudy had sent out to everyone in his contacts, that fact had escaped your mind entirely, and that only seemed to increase your drive for another drink and the need to get yourself the hell out of there. You’d been contemplating ditching for a while anyway – the ‘party’ was beginning to die a little, but the only reason you’d stayed was because Rudy was way too high to even be trusted to get home safely. Naturally, that responsibility had fallen onto your shoulders. 

You shrugged, “Nothing. I just don’t like the guy.”

He spun back around, patting the bar, and only seconds later – seemingly pulled out of thin air – a shot glass with amber sloshing liquid slid across the surface. You didn’t bother attempting to snatch it out of his hand, knowing it’d only irritate him. 

“How come?”

You swung your head towards him, incredulous. He knew perfectly well why. He was the only one who did.

“Because the two months we were in an established, exclusive relationship he was sleeping with someone else when he was ‘working’.” You snatched the next shot that slid down the bar and nabbed it for yourself, barely flinching when the burn soothed your throat, “Is this tequila?” You asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, it’s tequila. And I remember now, he was kind of a dick to you.” Rudy shrugged, wobbling on the stool.

You felt your irritation flare for a second, watching him laugh and smile to himself and play off how absolutely awfully Lewis had treated you, like it was nothing. You gave him the benefit of the doubt considering he was all kinds of pissed, but you couldn’t help the defence mechanisms kicking in as you picked apart what he’d just casually said.

“Kind of? Kind of a dick?” You echoed, rolling your eyes as Rudy froze, recognising the poorly hidden frustration in your voice. You’d also had a lot to drink, but it clearly wasn’t enough considering you seemed to latch on to the smallest details. 

To save your own sanity, you put up your hands in surrender, and Rudy watched, mildly impressed at your restraint, as you left the bar entirely and made your way outside.

You were done with pretty much everything inside that building; Rudy, and most of all, Lewis. The guy got your blood boiling unlike you’d ever felt, and the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to yell and scream until your throat was raw and bleeding and your voice was hoarse because you had to let all this unsanctioned anger out somehow. It was crushing you inside and out, and it was weird – you were confused by it. You and Lewis had only dated for two months, and it wasn’t even that serious. 

You figured if you’d paid a little more attention to him during your relationship, you’d have been able to put the pieces together a little quicker, but the guy was intelligent. Cunning, sly, slimy. There weren’t enough insulting adjectives to describe the chilling way he managed to get under your skin. 

It made you want to get into a shower and scrub your skin – knowing you’d willingly let him touch you.

It had ended four months ago, but the lasting impact he’d had on you was somewhat unexpected—

“Oh, hey.” A voice shook you out from inside your own head, and you looked up, moving out of the way from the door. 

There were two of them, crowded around a cigarette, and they had an element of vague familiarity about them. The girl was the one who’d spoken, and when you turned to look at her, feeling a little caught under her gaze, she smiled.

“Hey.” You replied, slowly stepping towards them.

She picked a tin from her pocket and flicked the lid open.

Oh, now you know where you recognised her from. She supplies Rudy, and you were pretty sure you’d bought from her before; nothing serious, never anything serious – which was probably why she was only offering you a blunt.

You hesitated, stuffing your hands in your pockets. Realistically, if you smoked one right now, you knew the chances of Rudy getting home safely would be significantly lower, but that jumpy, itchy feeling nestling its way under your skin was almost overwhelming. It felt like being in a supermarket, faced with a wall of the same bag of crisps, and you could hear people talking and walking, the label on your jumper was scratching the back of your neck, your head felt funny and your shoes were too tight.

Yeah, it kind of felt like a sensory overload. 

And you also knew – without a fucking doubt – that a joint would take all of that away. The sound of the music filtering through the front door would melt to a soft tune in the back of your mind, the tightness in your chest would ease up, and you sure as hell wouldn’t give a shit about Lewis.

The woman seemed to sense your internal dilemma, and before you could answer, the tin lid snapped shut.

You smiled apologetically, “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t.”

She shrugged, still smiling politely as she tucked it back into her jacket pocket, accepting her own blunt from her company, “Hey, it’s no problem, you just looked like you could use one.”

“Honestly, I did, but…not tonight.”

And before you could even so much as breathe, the door to The Championship was slamming open and out walks…a girl? Making a direct beeline for you, it would seem.

She was wearing faded jeans with a simple green crewneck, as though she hadn’t expected to make an appearance tonight, and her flaming red hair was resting against her collarbones – cut in sharp layers. She looked elegant, and a little classy, and undoubtedly pretty, but for the life of you, you could not place her.

But the way she was smiling at you – controlled and easy (not drunk?) – you’d have thought you’d known each other for years.

“Hey, you must be Y/N.” She started, stopping in front of you and crossing her arms.

You nodded, a little confused, “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You asked, curious. She’d come from inside the bar, so she’d obviously been invited to tag along to Rudy’s party, but even then you were sure you’d not seen her inside. You’d remember hair as red as that anywhere – it was breathtaking.

She laughed a little awkwardly, her eyes flicking back to the window momentarily “Not yet–”

Shit, did that sound menacing.

“My name’s Marnie,” you felt the penny drop, and the smile on your face melted a little, “I’m Lewis’s girlfriend.”

The silence was unbearable, but the one thing you could think of at that moment was holy fuck you should have accepted that joint. You wanted to laugh, you felt the bubbles of amusement begin to rise, but they popped before they could escape, dissipating somewhere along the lines of–

Marnie, what a fucking bitch.

So this was the girl Lewis had been sleeping with all throughout your relationship?

Now, you were a feminist, you really were. But you kind of drew the line about here. You were well aware that she knew you were in a relationship with Lewis, and she was well aware you knew that, if the cautious smile on her face was anything to go by – and something about her having the audacity to approach you and introduce herself even despite that knowledge deeply unsettled you.

Deeply.

It looked like she was expecting some kind of blown up reaction on your end, because her eye was twitching fractionally – she’d put herself that close you could see it – and the smile on her face was clearly slipping with every second you refused to give her the satisfaction of reacting to that little piece of information.

So you smiled, heart hammering with something. Adrenaline? Dread? At this point the lines had blurred to the point of disfiguration.

“Well, it’s always nice putting a face to the name.” You said stiffly, sarcastically.

You weren’t doing much to hide your distaste for the entire situation. Why bother? They’d already done the damage, what was the worst you could do?

She ignored it, though, and the smile on her face grew – as though she genuinely thought you were cooperating with her, “I was thinking–”

Dear God, please don’t let this be–

“That because your friends with Rudy and Rudy’s friends with Lewis, that we’re probably going to be spending some time around each other, right?”

Fuck.

You nodded reluctantly, already sensing where this car crash of a night was going to head.

“Would you want to have a few drinks…you know, until this awkwardness is resolved?” She asked.

Why, why, why, why? Why would she even think that was a good idea? 

“I’ll pay.” She added, clearly as an afterthought to try to convince you.

For emotional damage? You laughed internally.

“Because I’m an alcoholic?” You joked lamely, resisting the urge to roll your eyes and wince at your own devastating sense of humour at wildly inappropriate times. It was dark and not actually true, but you knew what Lewis had thought of you when you were together. He was always muttering something about your bad habits – and so what if you enjoyed a singular glass of red wine in the bath every now and then? – and you could tell from the taken aback and slightly flushed look that Marnie had suddenly sported, that he’d influenced some of his own opinions onto her.

“No, no.” She stuttered, shaking her head, “I just want to do this…for Rudy.”

Godfuckingdammit.

Either she was a good reader of people, or she was just lucky, because there was no one in the entire world who could possibly persuade you to do this, apart from maybe Rudy. He was your soft spot, and right now, you hated that soft spot possibly more than Lewis and his stupid face. 

You shut your eyes, hands waving with a mind of their own, “Sure.”

You regretted it instantly, even more so when Marnie grinned. 

“That’s great—”

“I just need to make a phone call, and I’ll be right there.” You interrupted, automatically sliding your phone out of your pocket, not waiting for her to answer before you stepped away, taking a seat on the edge of the pavement. It was a quiet night, barely any cars on the road, and if someone saw you talking on the phone, you knew the likelihood of being approached would be slim to none.

Besides, if someone happened to come up behind you, you had—

Oh. They’d gone.

You sighed, noticing you were now alone, and stood up. There was no way you would willingly sit with your back facing the sidewalk in the dark without someone watching you. So you leant against the window of the bar, thumb hovering over a contact, that, even at reading, made something flutter in your chest.

Nerves, anticipation, the whole lot. You were smiling before you’d even clicked the call button.

He picked up on the fourth ring, and you found yourself smiling bashfully at the floor even before you heard his voice.

If three-month-ago-you saw yourself now, she’d be mortified.

“Hey.” You started, foot kicking at a broken piece of glass.

“Hey.” You could tell he was smiling just from the tone of his voice – it was painfully distinguishable.

“What are you doing right now?” You asked, praying with everything in you that he’d be free. You knew he had training today – it had finished at around four, so technically he’d had time to sleep off the exhaustion, and he had tomorrow off…so, in theory, he should be free.

But given the hectic schedule he seemed to live by, you would be in no way offended if he decided to turn you down right now. You’d turn you down if you were being honest.

There was some rustling, and you deduced he must have pushed himself from a sofa or bed, “Absolutely fucking nothing. Please take me out of my misery.” He breathed a laugh to disguise his plea, and the sound of it sent chills through your body, a certain giddiness igniting in you knowing he’d pretty much show up for you right now, even if it was to watch some crappy movie in your apartment. Unfortunately for him, the reality was a lot less exciting.

Before you could interject and ask him, however, he was talking again, “Is that music?”

You turned your head, looking straight into the bar. You hadn’t exactly realised how loud the music was, but when you spotted Rudy messing around near the jukebox and speakers, that issue kind of answered itself, “Yeah, I’m at The Championship bar, you know the one that’s like a five minute walk from yours?”

There was a beat of silence, “Oh, the one on the corner by the deli? Yeah, I know that one.”

It only occurred to you then, due to Jack’s awkward answer – an open statement left half-hanging, that you hadn’t actually asked him to meet you there, or even given any indication you wanted to see him. 

You barely wasted a second before the invitation had toppled from your lips, “I was wondering if you wanted to come by? Rudy’s decided to throw a party and it’s honestly torture.” You hesitated, expecting him to fill the silence, but when he didn’t interject with anything, you continued, heart pounding with the anticipation of what you were about to admit, “And we haven't seen each other in a while so I’m kind of missing my fix of you lately.” You completed it with an awkward laugh, hoping the statement sounded less casual than what you truly meant.

That was what you and Jack were, amongst other things: casual. Or, you thought you were. It had started as an awkward blind date but he ended up staying the night and after a minor misjudgement on your behalf, he’d ended up at the door of your apartment building, a bag of Indian food in hand and an apology because he’d ditched you in the morning even after the promise of breakfast. And against your better judgement, you guys had been…friends (with a question mark) since then. 

Nothing else had happened, but you seemed to have a sort of unspoken relationship. One that meant you’d be smiling at your phone at inappropriate times.

So, naturally, you were kind of curious as to what his reaction would be.

“I’m missing you, too.” He paused, and you felt a twinge of relief flood your system, almost overriding the buzz of alcohol you’d consumed earlier. Jack tended to have that effect, whether you liked it or not. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

“But it takes five at a minimum?” You smiled again, eyes glancing to the direction you knew he’d be coming from, even though darkness shrouded the path and realistically he wouldn’t appear in that moment.

“Then I’ll run. You sound like you need saving.” He laughed, and you could distantly hear the slam of his door shut over the phone, his keys in the lock.

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t wear yourself out.”

“Not possible. I have incredible stamina.”

The insinuation was bold, but it dissipated some of the tension in your shoulders. The relief you felt purely based on the reassurance that it wouldn’t take him long to reach you felt wrong in a sense; that you relied on his presence to alleviate some of the stress from the awkward situation both yourself and Rudy had placed you in. 

It felt careless.

“Yeah, your hockey skills really prove that. I’ll be waiting inside…trying to have fun until you get here.”

“Only as long as you pretend to have fun when I actually get there.”

“No need to pretend.”

You heard him breathe a laugh, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

You hung up, steeling yourself as you walked back through the door, feigning a smile when Lewis lifted a hand up from where he and Marnie had claimed a booth. You went straight to the bar, knocking into Rudy from where he was sitting back on a stool.

“Where the hell did you go?” He asked, dramatically looking at your shoes and then moving back up to your face, eyes wobbling and cheeks flushed.

“Outside.” You answered, grabbing two bottles of beer from the ice bucket. You weren’t entirely sure if Jack would want a drink when he got here, but seeing as Rudy had somehow booked an ‘all expenses paid for’ event, you figured there was no harm done.

“Why–” Rudy stopped talking, blinking dumbly as it clicked that you’d taken two bottles, “Why two?” He pointed lazily, before collapsing on top of his hands against the counter surface.

“Because Jack’s coming.” You stated simply.

“As in the Jack who I haven’t met yet?”

“The very one.”

“Ooh.” He let out a slack giggle, and you shook your head, smiling a little at his antics. You felt yourself colour at his eyebrow wiggle, a flicker of pride touching your heart at the mere notion of finally sharing the brilliance of Jack with your friend – singular because Rudy was a part of a different sphere to who you usually spend your time with.

Rudy probably wouldn’t even remember meeting him this time around anyway.

So you patted him on the back and slid across the booth so you were sitting directly across from Lewis.

He’d had a haircut since the last time you’d seen him, and there were wisps of facial hair tickling his cheeks. He looked weird, worn and a little on edge. And the sight of him sent an alarm blaring through your mind, red flags metaphorically swimming in your line of vision.

A well of words flew through your mind: disgusting, cheater, dick, bastard, liar, sociopath, fucking bitch.

He didn’t inspire much positivity. At all. It had you questioning why the fuck you even agreed to Marnie’s request in the first place, because you didn’t even have to be here. You didn’t have to put yourself through this undoubtedly horrific conversation for the sake of fucking Rudy – who was practically passed out and unaware to everything that was currently going on around him.

No one said anything until the tension was seemingly too much for Lewis to take, because he nodded to the second bottle of beer you’d placed on the table next to your spot, “Are you waiting for someo–”

You vaguely heard the door shut, and in another world – if Marnie hadn't frozen in her place with her own drink midway to her mouth, jaw falling slack as her eyes followed something across the room – you wouldn’t have thought anything of it.

“That’s Jack Hughes.” She gaped, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

Lewis’s words were lost on everyone, and all three of your heads turned around just in time to see Jack pause by the door, seemingly taken aback by the small crowd of people blocking his view from everyone seated in booths. Because your back was to him, you spun around in the booth, pulling yourself up onto your knees so you could peer over the top of the wooden brackets, waving a hand to catch his attention.

There were a few brief seconds where his eyes were stuck on Rudy, and without even realising it, you caught yourself checking him out, assessing him from head to toe, right from his trainers to the Yankees cap pulled over his eyes. You were pretty impressed Marnie had recognised him so instantly, especially considering Jack had clearly dressed for subtlety.

He’d gone for a pair of jeans, the legs baggy, and a navy V-neck jumper, a white shirt peeking out from underneath. You weren’t a fashion expert by any means, but somehow that washed out denim Yankees hat topped it all off, and he looked good. His hair was a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him, but it still poked out from underneath his hat in waves. Even from where you were admiring him, you could tell he’d shaved recently.

Shit, he looked insanely good. To the point where you didn’t know if you’d be able to stand not touching him tonight. 

Your hand had frozen in place, elbow resting against the wooden platform, and it was only when he’d caught you over the crowd of heads that you realised exactly how you’d reacted to him. He smiled, wasting no time in dodging past several people as he made his way over to your booth.

You slid down, waiting for him to join you, cheeks burning and fighting the intensely strong urge to grin as you took a sip of beer to avoid the questioning gaze from Lewis. You figured he was confused; ice hockey had never really been his thing.

Honestly, it hadn’t been your thing until you met Jack, but…here you were.

You found yourself running a hand through your hair, suddenly aware you hadn’t looked in a mirror in the last few hours, and before he’d even sat down and before he was even within a four foot radius, you already knew you were going to have way more fun with Jack in the same room.

By the time he’d appeared at the end of the booth, that gorgeous smile on his face – cheeks a little red (you assumed he kept his promise and ran over, considering it had barely been five minutes, and his cheeks were tinged from exhaustion) – your eyes were shining with excitement. You felt like a little kid – you guys hadn’t seen each other in a couple of weeks because he’d been on a roadie, but you never would have guessed you’d be so giddy to see him again.

“Hey.” He greeted, and it was as though you’d been overtaken by some sort of tunnel vision, because you missed the look shared between Lewis and Marnie – all because Jack wasn’t paying them a single shred of attention. His eyes were boring into yours, and that smile you’d been hiding broke free as you reached for him, pulling him into the booth next to you.

“Hey,” you replied, before suddenly remembering the pair sitting opposite, and you turned back to them, unable to help yourself from looking back at Jack, as though you couldn't quite get enough of him. You caught a waft of his aftershave when he sat down…as if he couldn’t get any more irresistible, “Jack, this is Marnie and Lewis; Marnie, Lewis,” you gestured lazily to the man next to you, “Jack.”

You felt Jack pull his attention away from you to politely greet the couple sitting next to each other; Marnie was the picture of awe, her eyes were wide and she was drinking Jack up, not quite able to believe he was sitting across from her. You didn’t have her down for being an ice hockey fan, but you kind of loved how uncomfortable Lewis was at the attention she was paying Jack and not him. 

He was jealous, for sure. His jaw was ticking and you could vaguely see him sizing Jack up across the table, a misty curiosity lingering in the depths of his eyes as to just why his girlfriend knew who this guy was when he clearly had no fucking clue.

“Nice to meet you guys.” Jack smiled, casually draping an arm over the back of your bench, his hand gently touching your far shoulder.

In return, you discreetly shuffled a little closer on the bench – though the task in itself seemed almost nearly impossible considering how easily he’d slotted himself in next to you, his hip pressed to yours and the lengths of your things touching – and crossed one leg, resting your knee on his thigh. 

It was casual, not altogether touchy, but you could sense the scrutiny from across the table.

“How did you two meet?” It was Marnie that jumped in first, eyes completely fixed on Jack and not paying any other soul a single shred of attention. It was a little amusing, but at the same time – you were kind of…off?

You couldn’t place the sudden ugly, bitter taste in your mouth, but it made you want to grab Jack’s hand and leave immediately. But you guys weren’t anything established or exclusive, so that kind of felt misplaced.

Then you immediately felt guilty because you’d dragged Jack out of his house only to place him into the questioning hands of a woman you barely trusted, let alone knew. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like he was cornered.

“Through a mutual friend.” You answered, shrinking in on yourself.

You felt Jack pass an inquisitive glance over you, but you refused to look at him.

“Oh.” Marnie was disappointed with the lack of detail, you could tell.

Lewis cleared his throat, sitting a little straighter as everyone's attention returned to him, “What do you do, Jack?”

It felt an awful lot like an interrogation. 

It was clearly the wrong thing to say in front of Marnie, because her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flared a little in embarrassment. She must have clipped Lewis under the table, because you saw him flinch as though he’d been poked.

“I play hockey.” He answered, a little awkwardly. You could tell he was trying to hold back, maintain his modesty for the sake of not making Lewis feel a little silly; you guessed he was also holding back because he knew Marnie had recognised him.

“Oh,” Lewis began, furrowing his brows, “So that’s a full time thing? Like in the big leagues?”

Marnie paled, her eyes slipping towards the ceiling. You half expected her to facepalm at the comedic faces she was making, but she bit her lip, taking a drink.

You felt Jack’s ribs squeeze at your side. He was trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, I play in the NHL.”

Lewis swallowed, realisation settling in as he nodded, “Shit, so you’re good, then?”

Jack shrugged, ever humble, “I’m alright.”

For some reason, through a short burst of enthusiasm, you felt compelled to contribute, “He’s amazing,” you told Lewis, nodding and fighting a proud smile. Even saying Jack was amazing still felt like an under-exaggeration. You turned to look at him, allowing the smile to take over a little, “You’re amazing.”

His cheeks flushed and he suppressed a smile, twisting his hat around so it faced backwards on his head. You found yourself preferring it that way; you could see more of his face. The tired shadows under his eyes and the smile lines creased into his skin like a tattoo.

“Thanks.”

You took a deep breath, pulling yourself away from his magnetic composure, “So, how have you guys been?”

Lewis let out a breath, looking to Marnie for assurance. She, on the other hand, sat up straighter, determined to take some control over the slipping situation. It was painfully clear to her that neither you or Jack were particularly interested in maintaining a real conversation with either her or Lewis – you were much too taken with each other – and neither of you were exactly trying to hide that fact.

In fact, to Marnie, she felt as though she was intruding in on something private.

“We’ve been good, I just got promoted.” She said awkwardly, met with silence and mildly impressed looks – not really caring.

She briefly wondered if Jack knew what had gone down between the three people he was sharing a table with.

He didn’t.

He was just too enamoured with you.

“What exactly is it you do?” You asked, now finding the humour in asking questions. It might have appeared mean, but it was the only way you could actually cope talking to them. Answering questions and so obviously pretending you were interested was entertaining.

Passive-aggressive and petty, sure, but this was what Marnie had asked for.

She swallowed a mouthful of her drink, vaguely surprised at being questioned, “I work in a school – I just got promoted to head of department.” She noticed your confused expression, her eyes flickering to where Jack had replaced his arm along the back of the booth, this time twirling your hair in his hand absentmindedly. He was looking at her, at least acknowledging the conversation – much unlike Lewis, who’d turned on his phone and was scrolling through Twitter. “History. Head of the History Department in a High School.” She elaborated.

“Well done.” You cringed inwardly, knowing your effort of a congratulations was hilariously lacking in authenticity.

It seemed the awkward and noticeable tension had finally gotten to Jack – who’d never really been able to sit still and comfortably in such situations – who straightened, eyes zipping between everyone as if only just realising the unfortunate dynamic between everyone but him. He looked to Lewis, who – the coward – was purposefully avoiding eye contact with everyone; to Marnie, who’s hand was rubbing against her thigh, her eyes wide with traces of panic but managing it with a tight smile that was too wide to possibly be natural.

Then he looked at you. You were drawing shapes on the leg of your pants, the knee not resting on him diddling up and down under the table. You only did that when you were nervous or caught off guard by something.

Your eyes kept worriedly darting between Marnie and the back door exit – looking rather like you wanted to be anywhere else but here.

He hoped you still wanted to be with him wherever your desired place was, but he recognised that internal need to just get the fuck out.

If he was being honest, he’d never seen anyone look so damn uncomfortable by the people they’d chosen to spend time with, and he doubted you’d spend time with people that inspired that level of unease willingly.

Or maybe you would? He didn’t know you that well to know it for certain, but he knew you well enough to say with some certainty that there was something he was missing.

If anything, it seemed like the odd couple seated opposite him were a little sheepish or guilty about something, and the only way he knew he could get an answer immediately was if he just…went for it.

Asked.

“So how exactly do you guys know each other?” He asked, gently and cautiously probing at the silence.

In his defence, he wouldn’t have had to ask if he’d have been briefed prior to arriving and clearly disrupting the middle of something. There was history there, definitely.

What he wasn’t expecting was a dark laugh to escape you and for Lewis and Marnie to look like a pair of deer caught in the headlights. You leant forwards and rested your elbows on the table, twisting your body to face him, looking almost pleased with yourself.

“Yeah, how do we know each other?” You directed the question to the others, your levels of amusement boosted incredibly.

Marnie looked almost ashamed, and Lewis…Lewis looked like a pickled dick with sunburn.

Neither one of them said anything and you practically felt Jack’s confusion triple in the silence. Honestly, you were kind of hoping they’d answer for you.

It’d save you some embarrassment – misplaced embarrassment, of course – but ultimately your frustration won you over.

They had a right to look so ashamed of themselves.

“Lewis and I dated for a couple of months.” You admitted, watching Jack’s reaction carefully.

His eyes seemed to narrow – incredibly fractionally, and you knew that slight change would have been lost on Marnie and Lewis – and his gaze flicked from you to Lewis, almost assessing him. He kept his gaze on him for a while, before a low, almost disbelieving, “Really?” Was heard.

Lewis blushed, clearing his throat, “Yeah.”

Jack slid his eyes back over to you, arching an eyebrow. You couldn’t quite grasp what he was thinking, and it sent your heart into a frenzy even thinking about what else you were going to tell him – you couldn’t not. Not if you wanted him like you did.

“And you…” Jack was talking to Marnie, you realised.

The woman in question stuttered at the attention, “I’m his girlfriend.”

Jack could tell something wasn’t being said – the tension and the scraping of the surface of the story didn’t quite add up. Too much tension for a simple ‘we used to date’ admission.

There was an awful silence. It truly was awful. You’d rather have listened to nails being dragged down a chalkboard than listen to that heavy silence of unsaid things.

You felt Jack’s hand flop on top of your leg that was resting across his, and you looked at him. His brows were furrowed and he subtly gestured between Marnie and Lewis, a question written clearly in his face. 

At this, you bit your lip momentarily, stealing yourself for what you were about to do. You took a swig of your drink, moving to face the couple. 

“Look, I don’t think this is a good idea. I shouldn’t have agreed to sit here and have drinks with you because it’s not healthy. So I’m gonna head out.” You shrugged your coat on your shoulders, accepting nods of agreement, and Jack slid out of the booth, hands in his pockets as he awkwardly waited for you. “But you both deserve each other, really.”

It was a clear jab, but considering all the things you really wanted to say, it was incredibly tame. But you couldn’t help the not-so-subtle whisper of ‘cunts’ escape you as you dragged a rather shocked Jack out of the bar behind you. You walked straight past Rudy; someone must have called his partner because they were attempting to help him get back to his feet, but you weren’t about to stop until you were at least three blocks from The Championship.

Jack didn’t let go of your hand, nor did he say anything as he let you take him on a short trip. He could tell there was something bothering you, that much was evidenced by the rather strong insult you’d chucked at that couple right before you dipped, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned.

Sure, the insult was kind of funny and Lewis and Marnie’s reactions were priceless – picturesque almost, but he was definitely concerned. Mainly because you hadn’t even acknowledged what had happened, and also because you hadn’t stopped power walking or unlocked your jaw.

He took the initiative, walking a few steps in front of you so you got the idea to follow him instead, and rather than lead you indoors somewhere, he took you down some steps – you almost didn’t recognise it in the dark, but the graffiti pattern against the metal shutters was an instant giveaway.

He’d brought you to your shop. Your closed shop, nonetheless, but it was familiar.

He dropped your hand, not saying a word as he took a seat, his back against the shutters. You didn’t say anything – even despite knowing his back and jeans would undoubtedly be dirty when he stood back up – and took a seat next to him.

“What–” He started, hesitating slightly, “What happened with Lewis and Marnie?”

You swallowed, picking at a loose thread on your jeans, trying to bide time to structure what you wanted to say. In the end, however, you just ripped off the bandaid.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“He cheated on me with Marnie, for pretty much our entire relationship – even though he was the one to ask me if I wanted to be his girlfriend in the first place.” You looked down, huffing a petulant, self-deprecating laugh, “He told me he met her three nights after I agreed to be exclusive, and that they’d been sleeping with each other for the two whole months we were dating.”

Jack’s silence was unnerving, and it stretched a good fifteen seconds. You didn’t regret telling him by any means, but any silence after that kind of confession was enough to send your mind reeling. You wondered what he was thinking, but refused to look at his face for fear of rejection, or an expression you didn’t want to associate with your situation  - mostly pity. You didn’t know how you’d take it if Jack was looking at you pityingly.

“Did Marnie know you and Lewis were together?” His voice sounded a little strained, as if he was holding himself back from reacting too much.

“Apparently she knew from the get-go.”

You heard him sigh, a hint of frustration thrown in there.

“Fucking hell.” He muttered, and you felt an arm brush yours.

When you looked at him, his head was resting against the shutters, eyes closed as he folded his arms on top of his knees. He must have sensed you looking towards him, a hint of confusion at his odd reaction, because his eyes suddenly opened and he tilted his head in your direction, a blankness in his face.

It frustrated you, that you couldn’t get a read on him immediately.

“What are you thinking?” You whispered.

Jack cast his eyes beyond you for a minute, “I’m thinking that he was an absolute fucking idiot for treating you that way; that you could do way better – find someone that would treat you like you deserve because…you’re honestly mesmerising, and I can’t comprehend why he’d pull that shit when you were already in his corner.” 

Your chest clenched and you held your breath, hoping and anticipating his next words, “You really believe that?”

Jack looked back at you this time, his eyes shimmering in the dark as the light from the streetlamp flashed, “Course I do.”

You felt your brows narrow against your will – not entirely in an accusing manner, but one of complete and utter disbelief. You were completely stuck on how in the world someone could possibly view you in such a positive way – if you’d heard someone talk about their partner in that way, you wouldn’t really be surprised – then again, you hadn’t actually seen any realistic human relationships that procured that level of devotion – and the fact that it was Jack telling you that was how he saw you; Jack who, as far as you were aware, only saw you as a bit of fun? 

You were speechless.

“Why?” You managed, your heart pounding so hard against your sternum the action was almost painful. 

You’d never been so nervous in your entire life.

He shrugged, as though his thoughts were simply an everyday thing – nothing new that hadn’t occurred or something he hadn’t thought about before, “Honestly?”

You nodded numbly, your entire body tingling.

“You’re kind of everything I want in a partner. I mean,” he took a deep breath, preparing himself, “it’s not necessarily what you stand for, but more just…you that I want.”

Your chest was tight, and your eyes were stinging suddenly – an unexpected wave of emotion crashing over you. You didn’t let it show – that vulnerable feeling, shining from your eyes – though you could tell purely by the way Jack seemed to soften, his face relaxing like he’d realised the weight of the words he’d just placed on you.

Honestly, you were still partially in shock. 

Sure, you’d hoped he felt a little more than just teasing friendship, and the only thing that had held you back from mentioning anything to him was the frailty of the friendship you both shared. It was a delicate ecosystem of sorts, that you hadn’t wanted to trespass out of fear of losing him entirely. That was the seeming issue – to you at least – because Jack even showing a shred of feeling towards you was a fantasy you could only imagine.

It felt too good to be true.

And before you could question it or add something to at least give him a hint that he wasn’t alone, he was talking again.

“Can I ask you something?” This time it was his turn to pull his eyes away, only for a brief moment. He looked more scared now than he did when he’d admitted you were - in some sense – the woman of his dreams. It said a lot about Jack as a person; that he wasn’t afraid of revealing how he truly felt, but the notion of you rejecting him was the one thing that had him stalling, “When you invited me, did you want to make Lewis jealous?”

It was clear what he was asking, and your lack of hesitation in answering seemed to ease him up a bit; he took a silent breath – you could see his chest rise in relief.

“No. I invited you because you make me feel like everything is gonna be okay, and I needed that. I didn't invite you to make Lewis jealous because I don’t want him. I just want to see you, like, all the time, every day, for as long as possible.” You gave a delicate laugh, reminding yourself that he’d already made it clear that it was you he’d already chosen, “I’ve really missed you.”

He nudged his elbow into yours, and before you knew it, a smile had broken out on your face – completely against your will.

You were okay with it, because the grin on Jack’s face rivalled pretty much every smile you’d seen him wear. It had you question if he’d ever truly expressed emotion in your presence before, but the edges to it were softer – a tenderness that hid behind the unbridled joy.

“I’ve missed you too. A lot.” He breathed a laugh.

Neither of you were touching – a stark comparison to the bar situation where every inch below the waist had been practically pressed to each other. Somehow, it felt more intimate – that with your words you were able to communicate almost as much as with a single touch. That kind of honesty in your mid-twenties in the jungle of the dating circus was refreshing.

“Look at us, communicating like real adults.” You quipped, unconsciously biting your cheek for a moment, still hazy – you half-expected to wake up, your brain intent on having you believe that this entire scenario was simply a reverie you’d conjured up in your own mind.

“Right? I feel like I’ve matured a decade in the last ten minutes.” He laughed, the sound so sweet you couldn’t help mimicking it. You almost felt guilty drowning out such a beautiful sound.

You shook your head, not in any rush to say much else. You’d said all you wanted to say for now, and the idea of letting it sink in sounded pretty cool.

You were exhausted, too.

“All things considered, I had fun as your fake boyfriend.” He admitted, and you swung your head to face him, amused at his statement.

“Is that the narrative you had in mind when you showed up?” You teased.

He hummed, nodding his head, “How did I do?”

You shook your head in disbelief. Honestly, he’d certainly acted the part, even though his behaviours and little idiosyncrasies in showing his affection towards you in subtle ways hadn’t changed from how he’d usually act.

“I’ve seen better.” You joked, a smile on your face.

He could tell you were kidding, but he feigned offence either way – partly for both your entertainment and also because he was curious as to which direction you’d take it, “Oh, you have multiple fake boyfriends on your roster?”

You shook your head, laughing becoming deeper with every minute change to his facial expression, “You’re my favourite fake boyfriend.”

“Favourite?” He echoed, his smile fading slightly but remaining all the same. 

Softening.

“The only fake boyfriend.” Your laughing dwindled, until your cheeks were aching from the intensity of your smile.

You hadn’t realised it, but somehow you’d both unconsciously leaned into each other; your shoulders were pressed tightly together, and your face was slightly tilted towards his, just as he’d tilted down a little.

This kind of tension had always existed between you both; woven and seamlessly inserted between the contrasting fabrics you were made up of, but between the inches separating you, it seemed to have its own life. It felt as obvious as the Northern Lights flashing in the sky – just out of reach but one single motion of you looking upwards would have your heart stuttering and you’d be unable to tear your attention away from the spectacle – there was the acknowledgement that you were experiencing a pivotal moment.

That if you and Jack gave in and removed the last couple of inches, ultimately submitting to your urges, nothing would ever quite be the same between you.

“I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend.” He whispered, eyes flicking down to your lips.

“I don’t want you to be my fake boyfriend, either.” You were almost breathless, the mere thought of what could possibly occur in the next few seconds consuming your entire being until it was all you could think about.

His lips against yours, slotting together in a hot mess, even despite the grimy location.

Until you just couldn’t take it anymore. In those split seconds you’d finished talking, eyes zeroing in on his microexpressions and then fixating on his lips, the patience you’d heroically harbouring vanished, and you found yourself lifting your head, placing a tentative kiss on his lips. It was quick, but you felt the heat almost instantly – it was difficult not to, considering the featherlight contact almost burnt you.

Electrifying.

It barely lasted five seconds, and it hardly took any time for him to respond, his mouth only just beginning to move against yours before you pulled away, almost afraid to venture into previously chartered territory. This was nothing new, but there was something glaringly terrifying straying into commitment – because that what that kiss ultimately symbolised: a short, sweet promise that cemented any and all doubts either of you could have possibly had about the other; a pledge that you were both on the same page.

It did seem, however, that you were holding back, because Jack had barely had any time to properly react to your ministrations before you’d pulled away, and you could feel the heat of his hands hovering over your cheeks – his brows pulled down in confusion even despite the heartbreakingly astonishing smile now permanently etched on his lips. 

It was a cheeky one, and you could recognise the glint in his eye from a mile away.

You had a singular second to register exactly what it meant, before he’d dealt the dilemma he’d been battling for an incredibly short amount of time, before you felt his hand – rough yet passionate – rest itself on the side of your jaw, his fingers just reaching into your hair at the back of your neck, before he was pulling you closer, his lips slotting perfectly between yours, and one of your hands automatically made to grab his forearm, the other resting on his shoulder, tickling the ends of his hair.

Like you’d wanted, it was a hot mess; both of you intent on breathing the other in, to the point where you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. Your mouths were working together in an intricate dance, one that only the both of you seemed able to perform to such a chaotic standard, and it was his tongue that traced your bottom lip eagerly, your mouth parting wider to invite him in.

You were vaguely aware of your screaming lungs and the need to gather air, but your instincts and desire were screaming at you to never let this man go; the very essence of him was addicting to the point you were sure you’d let him annihilate your heart wholly if it meant you’d experience even a shred of his attentions and love in your lifetime.

“Get a room!” A gravelly voice startled you both apart, your hand felling to grip the material of his jumper in your fist, and very briefly you felt him make a move to shield you from the intruder – if only for a brief moment.

You didn’t blame him – it was difficult to remember exactly where you were when your senses were so incredibly intoxicated by his presence.

Both your chests were heaving, and Jack nodded awkwardly at the man standing at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t someone you recognised, but he was carrying a bottle of red wine in one hand, the screw top lid missing, and he was in an expensive looking silk dressing gown, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Acting like horny teenagers, the lot of them.” You heard him mutter under his breath as he trudged away, uncaring of the inquisitive looks he was being subjected to, and it was only when he rounded the block, disappearing entirely from view that you and Jack took one look at each other’s messed up appearances: his hair was a wild mess, his hat knocked off somewhere in the haze of the action, and his cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen and shiny – you were almost positive you were in a state mirrored to that, and it took hardly any effort at all before you were both giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls.

It was kind of ridiculous how easily you managed to get lost in each other.

“Want to stay the night?” Jack interrupted, “No double-meanings; I just wanted to know if you’d like to get breakfast with me in the morning? I think I still owe you from last time.”

You found yourself nodding before you could even muster up the energy to string a sentence together.

[lostfracturess]

The following ask is in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/lostfracturess/769382560681918464/replying-to-that-post-of-yours-about-gojo-and-a :) // I also reblogged the following text like a day ago, but I thought there’s a chance you might like the format of answering individual asks, more than you like reblogging. Up to you how you want to proceed! I personally love reblogs on reblogs, however, it might be easier for your organization/or just simply be your preference, to answer an ask instead. Either way, I’m good with!

TOTALLY AGREE that Gojo’s confidence stems from lived experience that backs up his self image. Real confidence comes from taking a chance, trying something out, and seeing that you can do hard things. #learnedthatfromhaikyuu!!seasononeviaasahi’scharactergrowth

Something I love about people who aren’t deeply wrapped up in shame is that they can reassess what happened, and take the necessary steps to improve. They have a growth mindset. When something goes wrong, they don’t A) Crumble and give up while throwing a tantrum/acting defensively, or B) Deny deny deny their faults, and pin the blame on everybody but themselves. Gojo does not have an all or nothing mindset, or a fatalistic mindset, which allows him to continue his journey of getting stronger and stronger. Narcissists aren’t flexible people. They cannot AND, moving on to the next point, Gojo *can* recognize others as potential equals, and he doesn’t try to dim their light, rather, he helps them reach their tallest heights. He’s not in a desperate need to be superior, as you said. An actual narcissist would have to elevate themselves no matter what, and would feel deeply threatened at the idea of somebody being better than them. Gojo is not at all threatened by the prospect of being outshined. In fact, he wants that for his students. He has no built in need for greatness to fulfill, because he’s already the greatest. He doesn’t need to maintain that status either, as he wouldn’t be shamed for not being the greatest by himself or others. He just wants his students to get what he never had: a chance to overthrow the broken system, and create a world in which the youth gets to actually be young. I can see why people admire and respect him for that goal of his.

Absolutely love that you acknowledge the nuance here, when you say that arrogance does not equate to narcissism. We all are on a spectrum regarding our mental processes and behaviors, but disorders are disorders because they cause significant impairment over an extended period of time, and they stem from some issue that most people don’t have (with narcissism, it’s deep rooted shame. with ocd, it’s a sticky switch of fear, self doubt, & intense anxiety that doesn’t switch off unless l you do compulsions, and even then, it sometimes doesn’t turn off. with depression, it can be genetic and or environmental). Let me know too, if I’m missing anything, or oversimplifying anything psych related!

Love seeing your love for Gojo :) hahah. You point out really interesting things! He’s a complex character, containing multitudes: he’s playful and serious, aloof and touchy, strong and isolated. He’s not exactly my cup of tea, but I ADORE hearing analysis thoughts on characters.

I wanna ask you what you think about his ability to connect with others, as canon Gojo absolutely throws me for a loop, regarding his emotional landscape. He can indeed connect to others who are strong Jujutsu sorcerers, but either Gojo cannonly stated it, or Gege stated it, saying that Gojo has trouble connecting with people. He grew up isolated, wasn’t around other kids, didn’t see people his age smile and laugh, or cry, or talk about their feelings. He’s quite unfamiliar with deeper emotions, his own and others. Gojo only knows jujutsu and strength. I can imagine that he wouldn’t know what to talk about if he was placed in a room full of non sorcerers. Gege said that Gojo’s personality is his greatest strength, and greatest weakness. I interpreted this as saying that while Gojo has the personality that allows for him to reach his fullest potential, it’s also the personality that limits him from deeper human connection. It takes a certain kind of person to stand being isolated their entire lives, and not crave that to a debilitating degree. When he was 17, it’s quite obvious that he’s not a sensitive guy who cares strongly about the weak, as he tells Geto, “Looking after the weak is exhausting… Moral arguments? I hate moral arguments. Assigning reasons and responsibilities to strength is what those who are weak tend to do. Quit spewing that shit to make yourself feel better.” This isn’t to say that Gojo is heartless— he’s not. But he does not get devastated over the loss of life, and he CAN rely on cold hard logic when need be. Gege even said that Gojo wasn’t sad over Yuuji’s death, rather, he was angry. And while anger is a second emotion, it just seems to me that Gojo struggles to feel the world through the same depth of emotion that most HSP people do. He certainly feels things, and he can feel certain emotions strongly, but it’s almost as if he’s going through life without the same colour palette of emotions that others have. And I think that’s why he can’t connect with others— he doesn’t exactly have the introspection and self expression that is necessary to form bonds with others. Gojo was conditioned to be a weapon, brought up to fulfill that sole role and purpose. And like, it’s so strange to me that he can be satisfied with the limited level of human connection that he has. He is so tied down by responsibility, so I mean, I get it. What do you think? Do you disagree with some points I’ve made? I’m always down for discussions (not arguments lol, though I don’t take you as the type to be reactive or argue just for the sake of the dopamine an emotional outburst might let for. You’re not like that, I don’t think. :)

Take your time in replying, and thanks sm for answering Nici!!!

M

ohhh so about gojo's emotional state, i think it quite hard to pinpoint that, right ??

i totally agree that his emotional palette is different rather than absent. like it's not that he can't feel deeply, but rather that his emotional state developed in a very specific way due to his upbringing. his response to yuuji's death being anger rather than sadness is a perfect example. he's capable of intense emotion, but it manifests differently than what might be considered "typical."

i think you can't compare him to HSP because that's a special type of group, but aside from that, the other end would be apathy and i think gojo seems to be somewhere in the middle. when people think he's a bit apathetic, i guess they mean more that he masks his emotions pretty well and i think that's shaped by his upbringing in the gojo clan.

like traditional japanese clan structures, especially in jujutsu society as shown in jjk, often prioritized duty, strength, and maintaining status over emotional development. growing up as the strongest, gojo surely would have been raised with immense expectations and likely very little emotional nurturing. i mean, who would have taught young gojo about processing feelings when everyone around him was focused on developing his potential as a sorcerer ?

this reminds me of how some children from highly structured, traditional backgrounds develop a kind of emotional pragmatism. they're not incapable of feeling, but they learn to process emotions through a more practical lens.

but the thing is that this isn't necessarily a deficit. it's an adaptation. unlike someone with true emotional apathy, gojo clearly cares and feels deeply about certain things. but unlike an HSP, he doesn't process these feelings through deep emotional resonance.

it's more that he seems to have developed a kind of emotional efficiency, like feeling what's necessary to drive action and maintain his core relationships, without getting overwhelmed by the full spectrum of human emotional experience imo.

and that makes perfect sense for someone who was essentially trained to be a weapon. having too much emotional sensitivity might have made his role unbearable, but having none would have made him dangerous. so he developed this middle ground, enough emotion to stay connected to humanity, but processed in a way that allows him to function in his role as the strongest.

so yeah, his ability to maintain emotional distance likely helps him function as the strongest sorcerer, but as you point out, it also limits his capacity for deeper connections. It's not necessarily that he doesn't want connections. it's that he developed in an environment where such connections were neither possible nor prioritized.

[white-poppie]

Stay with me

Character: Gojo x Gn! reader Genre: ANGST to comfort Warnings: Self-Starvation*, toxic relations (kinda), wounds, PTSD*, Gojo being an ENTP 😧 WC: 1.3k+ Writer:@white-poppie

A/n: I was already feeling sad and this fic made my eyes water.

~ Synopsis: Gojo is a pathetic man. he never sees anything beyond his inflated ego, not even your cry for help. It takes him quite long, to realize how incredibly wrong he has been all this time.

Cw: This is a very triggering fic, it has heavy topics such as depression, abuse, ptsd, anger issues

The first time Gojo noticed something was wrong, before you actually told him, was a week before.

There are days when you can't find the strength to leave the bed, let alone clean the room. When Gojo came home after exorcising a particularly annoying curse, his agitated mood turned into fury seeing the state of the room.

"' Toru please try to understand, I am trying my hardest," you whimper out at his scrutinizing expression towards your messy room.

"Yeah? I can't see you 'trying', sweetheart," he scoffed, a deep frown on his face.

"I can't get myself to leave the bed, everything seems so grey and exhausting to me, I am sorry," you buried your face in your palms, refusing to meet his cerulean eyes.

He scoffed and a loud clattering was heard, he was stuffing the dirty clothes in the laundry, "I don't know sweets," he grumbled, 'seems to me yer' just being lazy."

"You can't say that, 'Toru," you forced yourself up and looked at him with a miserable face.

His frown only washed for a second when he saw you forcing yourself to pick up the junk in the room.

He is not sure what's wrong, but he seems to have sprinkled salt on the wound.

After all, Gojo is oblivious. He seems insincere, loud-mouthed and nonchalant. He seems as if he only cares about himself, but you know that more than anyone that it is completely untrue.

Gojo is a caring man, but his ego blinds him.

He sees only the larger picture. Ignoring the details, the sufferings and the emotions. Gojo has a habit of arriving at the end moment, sweeping everyone off their feet and saving the day. Why the hassle?

He doesn't worry, he doesn't have to. After all he is the strongest. His saviour complex acts at the rightest times and boy does he love the praise. He only knows how to save people from physical danger and is completely oblivious to emotional and mental pain.

Sometimes it seems as if he chooses it to be this way. He prefers to ignore the 'weak people' who can't even control their own turmoil.

And right now even the biggest canvas screams that something is terribly wrong.

Gojo thinks it might just be a momentary blue, giving you a little space before realizing how further away from reality you had started drifting.

You toy with the food on your plate, and the dark circles sink deep into your skin, like a pathogen invading your marrow.

Satoru frowns as he taps on the table, drawing you away from the haze.

"What is going on with you these days," he booms, his voice hitting that one nerve in your brain that webbed its way to your ears, pounding and static-- the sheer feel of the blood that follows through the peripheral makes you dizzy.

" 'M not hungry," you say while sucking a deep breath, eyeing the expensive liquor in front of you. Satoru's jaw clenches as he runs a hand through his jelled hair.

"You could've said so already instead of making me book the most expensive restaurant in the city," he says deeply with a growl, making this uncomfortable coldness run down your spine. The back of your eyes burns as you realise they are getting glossier.

"So moody," he grumbles under his breath.

"Sorry," you squeak out and he scoffs, biting back the vitriol about to drip from the tip of his tongue.

Satoru sighs and calls the waiter, fetching money from the wallet in his inner coat pocket and keeping a good amount of cash on the table alongside the tip.

Your heart seems to have ceased beating, plummeting to your stomach you felt as if you were going to get physically sick.

Gojo walks out of the restaurant and opened the car door harshly.

"Sit," he orders and you complied, if the void in your heart didn't kill you, Gojo's anger would definitely.

You put on the seatbelt as soon as you do that, Gojo speeds through the road with his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white.

"Toru' stop!" you cry out, gripping the dashboard for your dear life.

This calms him down, and he slows down until he stops the car in your house's parking lot. Removing the seatbelt from himself and you, he takes a deep breath and turns his head to your side.

"'Sorry for getting angry like that sweets," he reaches out his hand towards you, nimble fingers running down the crevice of your cheek like sin.

"'ssokay," you whimper, leaning towards the warmth of his hand.

A smile breaks on his face as he removes his glasses and keeps them on the dash.

"What's going on with you these days, Y/N?"

You bite your lips and looks down at the leather seat, “I’m sorry. We were supposed to have fun today.”

Gojo stays silent, his eyes scanning your features, urging you to continue.

“This is stupid--I’m stupid.” you cry out, the tears you had been holding for so long finally escaping.

Gojo pulls you in his embrace, hand running on the small of your back, shushing your hiccuping sobs, "you are not stupid, sweets." He says so but he is frozen cold, he can never get used to people crying, let alone you.

Satoru didn't know what to do when he pulled away and sees that self-destructive hurricane swirling in your eyes.

"You know Satoru, my childhood hasn't been the best one," you sniff out, "my guardian was emotionally abusive and that affected me a lot growing up."

Satoru's breath hitches when he hears the rumble of emotions that floods you.

"The things they said..." you choke and he rubs circles on your palm, "they keep coming back like a Tsunami. I feel so pathetic and worthless 'Toru, I don't know what to do anymore."

Satoru gulps and closes his eyes for a moment. He feels like the scummiest human to have existed on the planet, even more than your abuser.

You were right there, waiting for your silent cries to be heard, to have someone pull you out from the web of darkness that even the strongest sorcerer couldn't have overcome if he were you. He was a shitty husband to you.

"And as I grow older, I realize they weren't exactly wrong," you bite your lips till you feel a tangy and metallic nectar in your mouth.

"They weren't wrong when they said I am 'lazy', 'useless' , 'high-maintanance'," you aggressively wipe your tears.

Gojo feels his heart drop as if the circulatory system in his body had shut down.

"That's not true!" he proclaims, wrapping you in a breath-stealing hug, " 'm so sorry baby, I am the most stupid person, acted blind when my sweets needed me."

He kissed your knuckles gently, "y'know even though I have acted like an ass until now, only caring about myself, I hate it when you cry or feel sad."

After all, Gojo is oblivious. He seems insincere, loud-mouthed and nonchalant. He seems as if he only cares about himself, but you know that more than anyone that it is completely untrue.

Gojo is a caring man, but his ego blinds him.

It takes you hanging onto the darkest ebb for him to realize that people aren't weak. they cry when they have been strong for too long.

"I'll be there for you now Y/N," he whispers, kissing your temple. His lips brushing past your skin, ignite a warmth, deep within your heart.

"Let it out love, I know I can't change what those nasty people said to you, but right now I know you need a catharsis," he says, "Scream, scream as loud as you want, scream at the stars, scream at the clouds, just scream until you feel better,"

Your sobs turn into soft hiccups as you look at him with pearl-filled eyes.

"And once you are done, I'll be here to tell you how incredibly wrong those people were and how you are so much more than your bad memories."

♠︎ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 

⤷‧₊˚ Jujutsu Kaisen (呪術廻戦)

🥀 BYI/DNI ♡⌇ Request Rules   𓏸 🗝️ ₊﹒ 《 Join my Taglist  •

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[jadesea33]

My thoughts on The Book of Carol teaser/sneak peak.

I know I’m going to be reiterating what many of you have already said, but I recently had a friend remind me that every voice matters and so I’m going to add mine to the chorus.

First: I’m SO excited to have Carol back. I really, truly am. I adored her scene in the sneak peek. It felt true to her character and Melissa’s acting was sublime (as always). I loved seeing her riding Daryl’s bike and using his crossbow. It reinforced her emotional drive to find him and what we all anticipate the series to now be about: her relationship with Daryl, the bond she shares with him.

But where, in what we saw of Daryl in these clips, did we see anything related at all to his bond with Carol? Nowhere, is the answer. Which makes it all feel incredibly one-sided.

And look, I understand Daryl has things he’s dealing with in France. My issue is that I don’t want to see Carol hurt. She’s risking her life traveling across the ocean for him and so far we’ve only been given ambiguous crumbs that might suggest Daryl has maybe thought of her on occasion while he’s been away from her.

Would it have been so hard to include one sound clip of Daryl talking specifically about Carol? Because I don’t think it would have been and even just that, one single mention of him thinking about Carol, would go a long way for me in feeling more confident that Carol will get her happy ending. Because whether romantic or not, it’s been made clear that her happiness lies with Daryl. I want to know he feels the same because she deserves that. They both deserve that.

Okay. I could go on and on about this but I won’t. I do want to make one more note though: I know some of you think this kind of talk is being negative or that those of us who speak like this are just trying to spoil the fun. But I promise that negativity or spitefulness is not where my thoughts are coming from. They are coming from a place of hope. Because I care so deeply about these characters that I want to see them treated with the love and respect they’ve earned over the course of so many years.

Why should we settle for whatever it is we can get, when we can state what it is that we want? With any luck, TPTB will be listening and will make decisions based on our desires because we (Carylers) are their target audience and we all, ultimately, want the same thing: for Daryl and Carol to be together and happy. Because they are soulmates. Because they both deserve a happy ending. And we’ve been given scene upon scene, year after year, that tells us their happy ending is with each other.

If you’ve read this, thank you. And I send love to you all.  ❤️

[clau1r9i]

The Development of Elias in TAMB: (Long ver)

(Hii again, some people have asked me to upload the original version of the previous post I made so here it is :D

Since it is very long, I tried to divide it into several sections to make it much easier.

Anyway, if you think it's too much, simply read the post just before this)

Childhood, Attachment, and Parental Negligence

Although his story does not unfold in the traditional way one might expect for a human being, his "childhood" and development are deeply marked by the experiences and figures he encountered throughout his life. By exploring the dynamics between Elias, Lindel, and Rahab, we can observe how these relationships have influenced his identity, personality, and behavior.

Rahab and Lindel: An Unconventional Family Dynamic

To better understand Elias's "childhood," it's necessary first to analyze the relationship between Rahab and Lindel. Rahab, a powerful sorceress, finds Lindel when he is still a child. She raises him and gives him his name, but as Lindel grows, something crucial happens: a traditional parent-child bond does not form between them. Although Rahab cares for Lindel and teaches him magic, he does not come to see her as a mother in the emotional sense. This is not uncommon in adoptive families, especially when a child is taken in at an age where they already have memories of their previous life. In such cases, children often fail to see their caregivers as parents, and it seems this is exactly what happens between Rahab and Lindel.

Lindel grows up appreciating Rahab for what she has done for him but without the desire to maintain a close or dependent relationship. This dynamic is important because it reflects the way Lindel later interacts with Elias, who eventually becomes his adopted "son."

Meeting Elias: The Beginning of a New Life

When Lindel first encounters Elias, he is unconscious on the ground, with no memory of his past. At this point, Elias is like a blank slate, a being just beginning to become aware of himself. His ignorance of the world around him and his lack of identity make him vulnerable and dependent on those who care for him. It is at this moment that Elias can be said to "be born" again, not in a physical sense, but in terms of mental and emotional development.

One of the most intriguing details is how Elias, upon being taken by Lindel to Rahab's cabin, significantly reduces his size. Some have interpreted this change in form as a sign that Elias had committed heinous acts, such as devouring human children. However, an alternative interpretation could be that his reduction in size symbolizes his current state: a creature that knows nothing, almost like a newborn child. This physical change could be a manifestation of his lack of knowledge and experience, reflecting his vulnerability.

Lindel as a Father Figure: The Neglect in Raising Elias

Despite Lindel's initial reluctance, Rahab convinces him to care for Elias, hoping that this will force him to relate to another being and come out of his isolation. However, this decision proves problematic. Lindel did not want to take care of Elias from the beginning and only accepts because he feels guilty about leaving him alone. This unwillingness to assume the role of a father has significant consequences for Elias's development.

From the moment Rahab names Elias and they welcome him as part of their family, they become Elias's attachment figures. Like any child, Elias begins to absorb everything Lindel teaches him and depends on him to understand the world. However, Lindel soon realizes that Elias does not behave "normally." Elias, like many characters in *TAMB*, can be interpreted as a representation of neurodivergence. His difficulties in understanding and relating to others, his perception of the world as if he experiences it in the third person, and his unusual behavior suggest that Elias is on a different cognitive spectrum.

This additional challenge aggravates the already difficult task of raising Elias, and Lindel, who never wanted to be his caregiver, begins to distance himself emotionally. He does not teach him social skills, how to manage his emotions, or even basic human skills like reading and writing. Instead, he focuses solely on teaching him magic and how to interact with the natural environment, ignoring fundamental aspects of Elias's personal development. This lack of teaching and support in crucial areas of Elias's life can be classified as parental negligence. Although Lindel does not physically abuse Elias, his lack of commitment to educating him and preparing him for the world leaves Elias with deep deficiencies that will affect him throughout his life.

Rahab as a Mother Figure: An Insufficient Effort

After parting ways with Lindel, Elias returns to Rahab seeking help. Unlike Lindel, Rahab seems more willing to care for Elias. Although she cannot leave her home due to magical restrictions, she tries to teach him what she can. Rahab realizes that Elias has difficulty understanding emotions and human relationships, but even though she tries to help him, she does not manage to meet all his emotional and social needs.

Rahab does teach him some basic skills, such as reading and writing, and provides a warmer environment than Lindel. However, she also makes the mistake of underestimating Elias's potential to develop meaningful relationships and manage his own emotions. Her belief that Elias could never have a "normal" life leads her not to provide him with all the necessary tools to face the world. This attitude, although well-intentioned, also constitutes a form of negligence. Rahab, like Lindel, leaves Elias without the emotional and social support he needs to fully develop as an individual.

The Consequences: An Adult with Insecure Attachment and Neurodivergence

The result of these upbringing experiences is that Elias grows up to be an adult with insecure attachment and severe difficulties in managing his emotions. The lack of an emotional reaction when Elias separates from Lindel suggests that Lindel was never a true attachment figure for him, and this emotional detachment repeats itself when Elias finally leaves Rahab. Although Rahab cares for him and often remembers him, the fact that Elias has learned that his attachment figures do not react when he leaves leads him to develop a distorted view of human relationships.

His insecure attachment, combined with his nature as a fae that tends to be possessive, manifests in incidents like the one with Stella, where his inability to understand and manage his emotions leads him to act inappropriately. Elias is a being deeply affected by his "childhood," marked by emotional neglect and lack of preparation for social and emotional life. Despite his curiosity about humans, his defective upbringing and neurodivergence leave him unable to form healthy and balanced relationships, at least at the beginning of the series.

Conclusion

As a result of this neglect, Elias exhibits insecure attachment, primarily manifesting as avoidant attachment, with some elements of disorganized attachment. He struggles with emotional detachment and finds it difficult to form close, meaningful relationships. His indifferent reactions to separation from his caregivers and his unpredictable emotional responses suggest a deep conflict in how he relates to others. This insecure attachment, rooted in the inconsistent and emotionally distant care he received, leaves Elias ill-prepared to manage his emotions and form healthy, stable relationships.

[arvadthecursed]

haven't said anything about it here but. I am very deeply saddened by Liam's death.

I remember hearing "What Makes You Beautiful" for the first time and being astonished. I grew up an ugly duckling with very few friends. And here was a band telling me I didn't know I was beautiful, and that was the reason I was wonderful. It gave me a sense of hope, that maybe yeah, I couldn't see my own beauty but maybe others could.

And, as y'all know, I have auDHD. I didn't have the words to explain how I felt as a kid. I just knew that I felt wrong, like I was an alien compared to other girls. I got picked on a lot and sometimes didn't realize it til after; or sometimes, no one would talk to me because my interests were "too weird." But 1D gave me something to talk to other girls about. We talked about our favorite boys, the music, and yes, the fanfic. I know RPF is often looked down upon now but when I was 11-13, we commonly passed it around. The "kidnapped by 1D" fics were popular for a reason: escapism, which, for hormonal, emotional tweenage girls, is super important. I remember reading Dark (yes, THAT Dark) in 7th grade because the girls were passing it around in FB chats. Now, we shouldn't have been reading that particular fic at that age, of course, but we were 13, of course we were gonna read it lol. We giggled over how shocking it was and showed it to our friends bc that's what 13 yr old girls do.

I made my first real best friend because of 1D. We bonded over watching videos of the guys together, buying J14 and Tiger Beat for the posters we would meticulously put on our walls, listening to the music. We made fanpages on Facebook together where we would write imagines and post pictures of the guys. We called each other our favorite guys' nicknames and hell, my first url on Tumblr was "hayitstommo" after Louis. My first posts on this site almost 12 years ago were 1D related. That friend and I supported each other through tough times; I helped her when her mother was sick, and she comforted me when my grandma died. I won't ever forget that bond.

And I know about the allegations against Liam, absolutely. I believe Maya. I feel deeply for her in this situation as I know she's received horrible vitriol for something that was not her fault. I can't imagine what she's feeling right now.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there's this weird grief in me. I am sad for Liam, for his family, for Maya, for my fellow fans. But I'm also grieving that sense of community I didn't really realize I had lost til now. 1D let me connect to others and feel like a girl for the first time in my life, when, as I said before, I had felt like an alien, like I could never belong. The music made me happy. The ability to talk to girls who otherwise would've stuck their nose up at me bolstered my confidence, especially when I felt so wrong inside from undiagnosed neurodivergence.

The emotions I feel about Liam himself are complicated. I know he struggled with drug addition; I know he was an abuser. I know he was one of the guys who gave me my greatest comfort in one of the worst years of my life, when I had to move houses, my grandma died, and then I had to move states. I know he was flawed and I had put him on a pedestal as a kid because kids don't have full pictures of their idols.

I keep thinking about all this. The outpouring of love from Directioners -- even people like me, who wouldn't call themselves that now but certainly identified with the fandom was kids -- has been astounding. I think we're all feeling a very weird sense of grief right now, knowing what we know about Liam, his untimely death, and our relationship with the band and how it's changed over the years. There are fond memories I will always have that were because of 1D. But now that I'm older, I have a more nuanced perspective, and that gives me this weird grief in my chest that hasn't gone away since I heard the news.

Anyway, sorry for rambling. I hope this kind of conveys how I feel.

[charmquarkstrangequark]

Lucy Carlyle: Impact of her Early Life

As part of the general Lockwood & Co Brainrot that I suffer from, I spend a lot of time thinking about the characters, their motivations, and what they words and actions reveal about themselves, and have been wanting to make some posts about their characterization. Disclaimer: I have exactly zero qualifications to make these assumptions.

Obviously, Book!Lucy and Show!Lucy have some differences. I think Book!Lucy keeps a lot more to herself, but as she's the narrator, we get to know what she's thinking from the inside. Also, there's been some discussion about whether Lucy is an "unreliable narrator" (I have even referred to her that way myself), but it may be more due to how our perception of events is colored by our own emotions and memories. Lucy is, I think, big on self-denial, at least when it comes to admitting her emotions and weaknesses to herself and others. She often relates events that must have had a deep influence on her persona without outright stating how these events shaped her. This is directly due to her early life and experiences.

So what do we know about her early life? She was born to a working class family in a small town in North England ("slate roofs and stone walls"), and Lucy mentions she never remembers her father (who died when she was 6) ever calling her by name. Imagine your parent never actually saying your name; how insignificant would you feel? Both Lucy's parents in the books were big on physical punishment for her and her 6 older sisters; other than punishing them, the girls were mostly ignored. Lucy mentions that her Talent first became known to others when she was 6 years old (incidentally the same age at which Lockwood's appeared), although she later says she can remember hearing voices whispering in the streets after curfew as a "kid in my crib". Her mother waited impatiently until she was 8, old enough to be pulled out of school and employed at Jacobs & Co. Again, her only value is as a source of income.

Book!Lucy was proud to be an agent, but it seems her employer, Jacobs, should not have held the position he did. He was, apparently, the only researcher in his Agency, and he did a piss poor job of it judging by the number of child agents who die on his watch. However, even he could see Lucy's extraordinary Talent, and she is promoted twice as fast her peers, achieving her third grade by age 11. This doesn't, however, seem to add to her self-esteem in any appreciable way. She obviously cared deeply for her fellow agents; she describes spending all of her free time with them and rarely seeing her family. Their loss would have to have affected her deeply. But after listing their names, she says, simply, "They're all dead now."

She characterizes herself as unattractive (a clear departure from Show!Lucy played by the undeniably gorgeous Ruby Stokes). Lucy mentions, "as my mother once said, "Prettiness wasn't my profession." She also states that she was quick on her feet but not especially skilled with a rapier. It may be possible that Lucy is prettier than she realizes, or that she has charisma or grows into her looks; she certainly catches the attention of her subsequent employer, Lockwood.

So how does her childhood experience shape Lucy? She underestimates herself and her skills. She sees mostly her own weaknesses and deficiencies. This shouldn't be unexpected when she has grown up with no one who values her for anything except a powerful Talent and a possible source of income. Her self-doubt causes her to be critical of others, looking to see if they are better than how she perceives herself, or if she is the stronger candidate in any area. Being rejected by her father and mother as a young child, and by six agencies in seven days upon arriving in London can't help. She also has a deep desire to be loved and valued (who wouldn't?). As she's only around 13 when she sneaks away from home to go to London, I think her reactions and insecurities are very believable.

Lucy is an exceptional Listener; even she is willing to admit that. It means that she lives in a strange kind of reality, always responding to a wealth of input that isn't readily available to anyone else. But she doubts her own ability to make the right choice based on the information she has. She blames herself for not picking up anything concrete to prevent the deaths of her teammates at Wythburn Mill.

She describes herself as taking orders well and working well as part of a team, but this really underscores her doubts in her ability to choose correctly in dangerous situations. Even her initial outburst with George is fueled by embarrassment rather than self-confidence. Early in the books, she is reluctant to challenge Lockwood on anything in the field, and unable to see where others respect or admire her. These insecurities will cause her to raise Lockwood up on a pedestal and look down on George. Perhaps she sees in George aspects of herself she doesn't like, or prefers Lockwood's aloof treatment of difficult subjects over George's razor sharp wit and perceptiveness.

She's a complex and relatable character, both brave in battle and insecure in her relationships. She desperately wants love and acceptance, but can't offer either to herself. She's only sure of her Talent, and because of this, is drawn to cross the veil of life to engage and empathize with the dead rather than take the risk of fully immersing herself in life. These traits will fuel her exponential growth in her abilities, but also put herself and those she loves at risk, until she is able to finally accept herself for who she is: strong, weak, brave, Talented, perceptive, afraid and also very capable, loving, and loveable, and loved.