#don't think i've never felt that frustration myself

[abiiiiackerman]

Too Late

Warnings: Angst, character death.

You knock on Levi's room while your heart is beating loudly with excitement and nervousness.

Today you're here to confess your love to him.

You love him a lot... Crazily.... So madly that if he insults you even a little, you wanna cry like hell. Maybe he understands that because you noticed he doesn't act rough or rude around you. Not to mention he always inspects if you're getting a proper meal three times a day, getting enough sleep, maintaining cleanliness and all.... Also he always seems to save you whenever you're in danger.....

These things gave you hope because he never does these things with anyone else but you. Maybe he likes you? Maybe he'll accept your feelings? Because you don't know what'll you do if he rejects you.

"Name and business!"

You are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear his rough voice. You speak nervously as always.

"Y/N, captain. Need to discuss something with you."

"Come in and make it quick!"

He replies calmly as you enter his room. He's sitting on his chair, doing paperwork. He's looking handsome as always.... In your eyes he's always handsome.... You gulp nervously as Levi looks directly at your face and you start speaking as clearly as you can.

"Captain, I just wanted to thank you for being caring towards me and for always protecting me...."

You look at him as you try to speak those three words but they won't just come out of your damn mouth. You're too nervous.

"I'm just doing my duty. Are you finished? If you're, then leave."

He says calmly and looks back into the papers as you gulp again. You feel your heart clenches a bit to his rude reply. So you take a deep breath and speak bluntly and quickly.

"Captain, I love you."

Levi's hand pauses on the paper as he slowly looks up at you. You try to search for some emotions in his face. But there are none.... He's looking nonchalant as always. You feel nervous as hell as his lips move. You wanna run away.... You don't wanna hear the words....

"Y/N, we're in a middle of a war, fighting for humanity. Our hearts are dedicated to humanity, not to some particular person. I've noticed you're a soft person so I decided to act kindly towards you because I hate tantrums and unnecessary problems. But it seems like you took my kindness into something else. I didn't expect that from you and I definitely don't appreciate it."

You flinch as you feel your eyes immediately tear up. You don't want to sob in front of him or even cry.... But you can't just stop.

"Did you not..... Ever.... Felt anything towards me?"

You ask as your head is hung low and tears keep falling shamelessly on your cheeks. You somehow manage to stop your sobs because you were always the type who cries silently.

"I don't like to repeat myself. I have told you, you took my kindness into something else."

You flinch again as you nod. You take your steps back.

"I'm sorry for wasting your precious time, captain. It won't happen again, I promise."

You say in a broken voice as you leave the room, closing it behind you.

Time skip

Levi clicks his tongue in frustration as he looks around for you. The expedition has ended and the scouts have temporarily been on a spot near the walls just to count the dead bodies and take a note of the missing peoples.

Levi feels his heart beating loudly as he can't find your face anywhere. During the expedition and due to the appearance of some abnormal titans the formation was broken and Levi lost you.

You weren't under his wings, his protection who knows what happened to you? He can't think of your death... He can't... He can't lose you.

"Levi! We have found Y/N"

He immediately looks at Erwin as he hears his voice but flinches. He doesn't like the look Erwin has on his face.

In this whole world only Erwin knows how much Levi loves you....

He glares at Erwin as Erwin looks at him sympathetically. Levi knows the news is bad.

"Don't give me that shitty look Erwin."

Levi hisses and walks towards the place where the new rows of dead bodies are being laid down. He immediately notices yours.... How can't he? You silky soft hair which he always loved is propping out of the white sheet which is covering your body.

He slowly walks towards your body as he kneels down and removes the white sheet from your face. You're laying comfortably, with your eyes closed.... It's like you're just sleeping comfortably in your barracks when he would just sneak into your room to check up on you.

But why is he's eyes tearing up? No... He definitely isn't the type of person to cry... Then why his tears are falling on your sleeping face?

Maybe because he has realised that he won't ever have the chance to tell you how much he loves you? Because he won't be able to apologise to you, explaining why he rejected you....

He won't be able to tell you that he thought you two still had enough time... He thought you were safe under his wings and he'll protect you until he'll get the chance to propose to you.... He won't be able to tell you how much he dreamt of marrying you, having children with you, spending his whole life with you...

He won't be able to tell you anything....

He covers your face with the sheet as he stands up. His face is stoic and cold and there's no signs of tears in his eyes. He's face is still the same as before as he walks towards his horse.

He never regretted his decision.... But sure as hell, he's regretting rejecting you and he always will....

He wishes he could just accept your feelings and tell you how crazily he loves you.

But it's too late now.

Too late to let you know how he feels.... Too late to save you.......

[aw-bean-s]

Yknow I gotta say, I love sewing and a lot of ppl find a lot of body confidence or whatever from sewing. But for me I never felt bad about my body until every pattern I find is telling me I'm meant to have a 26 inch waist.

[lesbianpikachu]

.

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[a0x0annie]

the female urge to constantly question whether i'm aromantic or panromantic (or both)

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[tojirights]

Prompt “❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜” with alastor :3

Likke reader has been with multiple people but alastor is the first person to make her cum 0.0

prompt: Hii I really like your work! Can you do face sitting with alastor like reader mentions that she wants to sit on alastor face to angel and alastor overhears or angels says outlook to husk while his wasted thank youu

a/n: combining these two prompts!! ^ thinking maybe alastor overhears you talking with angel about your woes and offers to uhhh assist 👀

"the guys down here suck, angel." you sigh, sitting next to angel in the hotel lounge. you crack open your beer and hand him one as well. "yer tellin' me, babe." he chuckles. "whats got ya worked up this tIme?" he hums, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "thats the thing! nothing!" you groan, leaning into his body. "you know how many times i've tried hooking up with someone just for them to bust in 30 seconds and rub my inner thigh?" angel almost chokes on his drink.

"they're the worst. no one down here has been able to make me cum but myself." you mutter, taking a sip of your drink. "who do you want, hm?" angel asks. "maybe i can hook ya up with someone good." he wiggles his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you. the alcohol is making you feel a little brave, so with a sigh, you let your words free. "y'know who i think about all the time?" angel's eyes widen with interest, anticipation building.

"alastor..." you admit for the first time out loud. angel does choke on his drink this time before he laughs. "bitch! the radio demon?!" he barely contains his cackle. "stop! i mean, have you seen him? god, angel. i'd get down on my knees and bark if he told me to. i wanna sit on his face, hold onto his antlers for support. ughh, he's so hot." you whine into angel's chest, embarrasmemt finally setting in. angel tries to contain himself, but you've never said something so out of pocket but also very relatable.

unbeknownst to you, alastor stands not far behind you, his ears twitching as he listens in. a part of him does feel a tinge of guilt for listening, but you'd be quieter if you didn't want anyone to hear you. "well now, isn't that interesting?" alastor's voice makes you jump, almost tossing your beer straight onto angel. "oh fuck..." angel all but pushes you over in an attempt to get away.

"oh my god. alastor i'm so sorry, i was just-" you scramble to defend yourself, but alastor puts his staff under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "what was that you said about wanting to... sit on my face? about these worthless little demons not knowing how to treat a woman?" the sultry tone in his voice has you clenching your thighs together, which you blame on the alcohol swirling in your gut. you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush this off as alastor teasing you but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's dead serious. "it's nothing! just venting some frustrations, that's all."

your eyes are a dead giveaway, desire flooding them as you peer up at alastor. "why don't you accompany me to my room for the evening, darling? we wouldn't want these inexperienced fools to try and make a move now, would we?" he extends his hand, and you decide to throw caution to the wind. standing, you let him pull you close. "blow my mind, radio boy." you whisper, watching alastor's eyes darken and his smirk grow. alastor uses the shadows, leading you straight to his room in a mere moment.

your heart rate sky rockets, realization hitting your gut as you start to strip. "how long has it been?" he asks, picking you up with ease and carrying you to the bed. "w-what?" you hesistate, watching as alastor ushers you to climb on top of him. "since someone else made you cum?" you swallow, straddling his chest. "i don't even remember al..." alastor's hands come around to grip your ass and pull you forward. with a gasp, you brace yourself on the headboard and then the feeling of alastor's tongue immediately has your brain turning to mush.

it's dizzying, the slide of his tongue up and down your slit was already far better than anything you've experienced in such a long time. "o-oh fuck." your body shudders, barely being able to hold still. alastor's tongue dips passed your entrance, lapping up your juices like a man starving. you already feel that familiar coil in your stomach forming, threatening to snap all over alastor's face. "that's, oh god alastor, that's so good." you moan, gripping tighter on the headboard as your hips start to stutter on their own.

then, you feel alastor's hands on your ass start to push and pull you, forcing your cunt to slide over his tongue. "y-you, i'm gonna-" you can't even think straight, pleasure blinding you to anything else happening in the entire world. alastor hums against your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and that's it, you're cumming hard enough that your vision goes dark and tears well in your eyes.

you're shaking, barely being able to breathe as alastor's tongue runs lazy circles over your still sensitive clit to ride out your orgasm. before you're fully recovered, alastor quickly flips you onto your back and his fingers find your puffy pussy. "you have no idea the honor it is to be the only one to see you like this, my dear. the only one to feel you-" he pauses, pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt so he can hear your sweet moans. "cum. and i will be the only one to continue feeling that. you will cum on my face, my fingers, my cock... anything you please."

the desire burning in your core strengthens once more. not even your own fingers have ever made you cum twice, but alastor is about to pull a second orgasm from you almost completely back to back. "make me cum again." you whine, hips arching further off the bed as his fingers pump in and out slowly. "on your cock, fuck, please fuck me alastor."

alastor chuckles, his free hand unbottoning the front of his pants just enough to free his cock. "how could i deny such a good girl? cum on my cock, my princess." in an instant, alastor's fingers are replaced by the thickness of his cock. the first thrust alone has you teetering on the edge, while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit.

your pussy clenches around his girth, pulsing with every sweep of his finger. each thrust of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, his cock filling you like no one else could ever. "y-you, gonna cum again." you cry out, spasms wrecking your body as your second orgasm hits even more intense with the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

alastlor groans, pumping his cock deeper, deeper until he's cumming as well. "such a good girl." he grunts, pushing each thick rope of cum further inside. "you won't ever have to worry about not being taken care of, my dear." he assures, pulling out slowly even as your cunt tries to squeeze him in. "there's plenty more where that came from, rest your pretty little eyes." he coos, pulling a blanket on your tired body.

you just know this is going to be the best sleep pf your fucking life...

[xxsabitoxx]

Fushiguro Megumi hates it when you get injured.

Something about it, no matter how big or small the injury is, just gets under his skin and pisses him off. Which comes off has him being mad at you, unfortunately. It’s not his intention, fuck no, he’s just so upset it happened in the first place.

It’s not till you get injured bad that you realize he’s not mad at you, rather, he’s mad at himself. There is a lingering guilt in Megumi’s eyes when you get hurt, as if he failed you.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” You had questioned late one night, laying in an infirmary bed with an IV in your arm because Shoko’s technique and the curse’s attack were not working well together. Meaning you were on strict bed rest until you were fully healed. Megumi hated that too, of course.

He didn’t answer, instead he flipped the page of his book with pursed lips. “I’m talking to you, Meg. It’s rude to ignore.” That got to him, closing his book slowly as he dragged his eyes up the bed to look at you. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

You repeated your previous statement, knowing he heard you the first time but he wouldn’t answer unless you asked again. “Yeah.” His tone was low, not convincing whatever. “Liar.” You shot back, moving your arm to rub your tired eyes.

Megumi watched the tube move with you, the dark liquid slowly dripping from the bag down the line and into your veins. “I’m not lying.” He nearly spat, anger bubbling in his gut at the sight of the retched medical machinery you were hooked too.

You sighed, “I’m sorry for getting hurt. I know it’s frustrating and all but li-“ but Megumi was cutting you off with a near incredulous look. “What?” Was all he said, leaving you to blink at him as you tried to wrap your head around his confusion.

“Y-you’re mad cause I’m careless, right? Because I keep weighing you down by getting myself injured?” You stated this as if it were factual, watching Megumi’s face morph into one of genuine bewilderment and mild offense.

“No?! What the fuck makes you think that?!”

"Because... you don't talk to me for like three days after the fact?" Megumi couldn't exactly fight you on that. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it really did come off that way. "I...shit no that's not..." he tossed his book on your bed, hands coming up to rub his face as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not mad at you. I've never once been mad at you for getting injured. I just..." he sighed, turning to look at you now "...I just get frustrated with myself. I don't like seeing you hurt, it makes me feel like I didn't do enough. Then, I sit here promising myself to do better for you the next time we go out on a mission together, and then we end up right back here. With you in a hospital bed."

Megumi's face had turned a shade of pink. He always felt fidgety having these kinds of conversations. Especially with you, especially about his feelings. "Oh..." you started, mulling over his words carefully before sighing. "You can't beat yourself up over this stuff, Megumi. It's my life and my choice to be a sorcerer. Getting hurt is part of the job." You watched him shift in his chair.

"I know it's part of the job. I just don't like seeing you get hurt. Especially when I'm supposed to be supporting you. We're supposed to look out for each other on these missions and I keep failing you." Megumi's eyes darted anywhere around the room, hands folding neatly as he tried not to seem nervous.

"Megumi." You stated it bluntly, praying he'd look up. He did, of course, he did. For some reason, he couldn't deny you when you said his name like that. "C'mere." you whispered, motioning him to sit on the edge of your bed. He listened, getting up to move the small distance and trying his best to keep you stable as the bed dipped.

"You can't go on with your life quietly beating yourself up for things that are out of your control... and mine for that matter." Your hand carefully reaches up to touch his cheek, smiling at the warmth burning under your fingertips. Megumi looks at you, head-turning reluctantly. "I love you too much to let you feel guilty."

Quiet. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The look on Megumi's face was utterly priceless. Pure disbelief. No way he heard you correctly. His tired mind and sore back must be playing tricks on him. "You... what?" He croaked, brows furrowing in denial. You smile, huffing out a laugh. "I said I love you, Megumi."

He wasn't sure how to act in that moment. Every word he could think of was fizzling out before it could reach his mouth. Instead of killing himself trying to respond verbally, Megumi did the only thing he could think of. A surprised squeak left you as his lips pressed against yours, hands shaking as they gingerly cupped your cheeks.

The kiss itself lasted maybe twenty seconds, leaving you a little breathless from being unprepared as he pulled away. "I... guess that means you love me too?" you teased him, a grin on your face. Softly, Megumi huffed out a laugh before responding.

"Yeah, it means I love you too."

Started this a few days ago and didn’t even realize it was Megumi’s birthday today! So, happy birthday, Meg :)

Hope you enjoyed! - May

[cuubism]

i went to physical therapy for my stupid broken arm so as is my legal obligation i HAD to make ship content about it. everything is ship content that's how it is

cw injury, referenced abusive relationships

--

Hob's had plenty of clients come to physical therapy who clearly don't want to be there. Plenty of others who are reasonably frustrated by the work and time involved in regaining functioning after an injury. But this is the first time he's just had someone be... quiet. Resigned.

Dream sits with his hand cradled to his chest, barely speaking, only answering when Hob asks a direct question. He's reluctant to give Hob his hand when Hob asks if he can look at it, like he thinks Hob's grip is a bear trap that will snap down and crush the bones like whatever had done so the first time. Hob still doesn't know what that was. All he knows is the bones have been realigned and healed over but the dexterity in his hand still isn't right. That was what Dream had said, in the first spark of passion Hob had heard from him. It's not right.

But he does eventually give his hand over. His bones are so fine and delicate, and each movement hesitant. Cautious. Hob tests the flexibility. The strength. Dream is right, it's not where it should be. He still doesn't know what happened.

"I won't make you tell me if you really don't want to," Hob says gently. "But it is important to know how it happened to make sure we rehab it the right way. Did you get it caught in something? I've seen guys come in with machine injuries like that."

Nothing about Dream suggests "person who works with heavy machinery." But who knows. Hob will try not to stereotype.

"No," Dream says quietly, looking down and away from his hand like he can't bear to see it. "I. I am an artist. My ex... he felt that I cared more about my art than about him. Perhaps I did. And he was... frustrated. I suppose."

Hob can put the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Jesus," he breathes, and Dream flinches.

"I have an unfortunate ability to involve myself with such people," he says.

"No, it's not your fault," Hob says automatically.

Dream narrows his eyes. "You presume to know that?"

Hob raises his hands in surrender. "Never mind. I won't pry." He's not Dream's therapist. His job is to help him with his hand, not... whatever else is going on in his life.

He takes Dream's hand carefully between both of his own again. Presses down lightly on his knuckles. "So. Crushed. Like that?"

Dream nods. Hob still doesn't know all the details, but he's imagining a boot going down hard on the top of Dream's hand. The thought is sickening.

"Can you fix it?" Dream asks, like he doesn't dare to hope.

"Well, you already had it repaired surgically, yeah?" Hob says. This strikes him as a bit of good luck--hand fractures are not simple--but he doesn't want to undercut Dream's confidence even further by saying so. He's usually pretty good at reading his clients, and he's already sensing that Dream is holding onto his determination to be here at all by the barest thread. Best to build him up as much as possible. "So it's just a matter of strengthening the muscles again."

He's fairly confident he can get him back to a usual level of functioning with it. The question is whether he can return him to the specific level of dexterity he needs for his art. He doesn't say that. Not yet.

Finally, he gets the tiniest of smiles out of Dream. He's really lovely when he smiles.

(He's pretty when he doesn't smile, too. Hob would have to be blind not to notice it.)

"So," Hob says. "Let's look at the current range of motion, yeah?"

Dream tilts his head. "Did you not already do so?"

"For regular motion, yeah. But I want to see where it's impacting your drawing."

Dream draws his hand back, looking uncertain.

"Come on." Hob hands him a pen and paper. "Show me. I promise I know nothing about art. If it's not up to your usual standards, I'm not going to be able to tell."

Finally, Dream takes the pen, and starts sketching.

Hob watches, noting the way his hand trembles, his uneven grip on the pen. Notes how quickly he gets demoralized when it doesn't turn out the way he wants. Hob can make out what he's written and drawn, but it's clear from Dream's expression that it's far from how it's supposed to be.

"This is just a starting point," Hob reminds him. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of those sorts of reminders with Dream; he does not seem to find optimism easy.

Then again, if someone who supposedly loved him had hurt him like that, Hob would probably find optimism a bit difficult, too.

Finally, Dream drops the pen, clearly frustrated. "I have tried to paint at home, too. It has not turned out any better. You should throw those away." He gestures to the sketches. "They are terrible."

"Nah, I'm gonna keep them," Hob says, and puts them in his folder. "For comparison later." It could also partially be because he finds Dream's drawings of cats, imperfect as they are, charming. Sue him.

"As you insist," Dream says.

Hob gives him documentation on some other exercises he can do at home. Tries to think through what might make him feel better with his art. It feels, somehow, so important to make him feel better.

"At home, go easy on trying to use a pen, or paintbrush or whatever, it's hard on your hand," he finally says. "But you probably want to get back to your art, so-- okay, don't make fun of me if this is stupid."

Dream just raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Maybe Hob should try to learn more about art before he gives advice. Nevertheless, he forges on. "Holding a pen is tough, but if you wanted to like, finger paint or something? That would probably be fine. Might be good for flexibility, even."

"Finger paint," Dream repeats, enunciating each word.

"I told you not to make fun of me if it was stupid."

Dream smiles, just a small thing, like he finds Hob ridiculous but in a charming way. Good enough, Hob figures.

"Very well," Dream says at last. "I will take your advice."

Dream simply walking out had felt like a distinct possibility, so Hob will take this as a win.

"Hey," he says later, catching Dream for a moment as he's checking him out. "It's going to get better, yeah? Trust me. Don't worry too hard, just give it time."

He really shouldn't make promises like that. But he can't seem to help it, with Dream.

Dream considers, then says. "I do trust you."

Hob finds that it means a lot. Now he's just going to have to earn it.

[luckykiwiii101]

Feel like overconsuming?

——————————————————————————

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

——————————————————————————

(Remind yourself of these facts whenever you feel doubtful, frustrated, stressed or like over consuming)

💕Do NOT focus on the 3D. Just focus on the 4D

💖The 3D is just the old state/assumptions manifested

💗I KNOW that I have everything I want no matter what the 3D shows

💞I Fulfil myself every time I think of my desire (surrender to the 4D)

💓I NEVER identify with the 3D unless it’s desired

🌸I KNOW that i’m not waiting for the 3D to conform. I am only making my desire natural to me. I am getting used to always having it.

🌺I am only REMINDING myself that I have what I want.

🌷Logic doesn’t exist

🎀I am NOT lying to myself!!!

💄NOTHING can “ruin” my manifestation

💐I Only see/hear what l want to see/hear

🩰I Only focus on the FEELING of having what I want, I return back to that feeling every time I think of my desire. I satisfy myself until i no longer need the feeling of satisfaction.

💗I don’t need to affirm or visualise etc all day.

🍬I only look for confirmation in the 4D. NEVER the 3D.

💘Creation is finished. It’s done.

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Quotes from @loasuccessarchive from anons who manifested their dream lives:

💗 “I've manifested so much physical changes when i stopped thinking about how the 3d needs to change. i focused on how i feel (state of already having your desires) and sustained that feeling.”

💓 “I did absolutely nothing but focus on my desires/the 4D. I was delusional, I was detached from whatever bullshit was happening in my 3D and I was basically in love with my 4D.”

💞 “the only reason why you fail, is because you haven’t accepted that imagination is the only reality, everything stems from imagination. the longer you focus on getting it in the physical world, the more stress you’ll have. you only want the feeling such desire brings you, so give it to your inner man.”

💕”All i did was fulfill myself in my imagination, and stopped looking for confirmation in the outer world, whenever i felt the urge to “look for it in the 3D” i would close my eyes and see it in my imagination. That’s all i did, the first days i felt a little anxious but then everything was okay, and i was EXTREMELY calm.”

💖 “I started focusing on the feeling of having everything I wanted, without being specific because my subconscious/ god knows what it is, it’s when things started happening, and let me tell you it’s was so quick.”

“I didn’t work on my self concept, I didn’t do methods (however I tried SATs and it did work for me once but I stopped since I got lazy) I didn’t focus on time or logic, I didn’t do anything but focus on what was happening in my imagination.”

🎀 💋 “your only job in here is to think from the perspective that you already have it baby. don't stress yourself, everything will change because if it is in your imagination and you accept that it will reflect in the 3d, thats literally everything everything and everything . you don't need to change your thoughts, only your state, you want to get into the void this night? imagine however you want that you are waking up with everything you wanted, it is not a desire, it is the reality. you want proof? go to your imagination. everything is there.”

💋”the wish fulfilled isn’t something over exciting (although it may be at first) its just a natural and normal.” —> https://www.tumblr.com/etherealkissed88/737821647378284544/the-state-of-the-wish-fulfilled

P.S Ily 💗 XoXo - Gossip Girl

[hd-junglebook]

Its Always Been You

Part 4 / Word Count 5816

Masterlist

Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.

"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  

"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."

Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.

Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."

"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.

Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.

It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.

He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.

The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.

Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.

"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.

Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.

Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.

Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.

…

The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.

The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.

She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.

y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.

Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.

Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.

As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.

Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.

She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.

Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.

In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.

Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.

She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.

Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.

Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.

Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.

As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.

"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.

The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.

Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.

Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.

The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.

All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.

Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.

"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.

Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.

Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.

But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.

As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.

But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.

So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.

…

Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.

"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.

Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.

He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.

"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.

…

The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.

Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.

they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.

Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."

Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."

But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."

She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."

For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.

"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."

With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.

The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.

She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.

Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.

On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.

Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.

She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.

Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.

His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.

As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.

His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.

Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.

Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.

Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

…

Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.

The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.

She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.

There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.

Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.

"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."

He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.

Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."

Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."

Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.

Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.

But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.

"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.

Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.

"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?

Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.

For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.

Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."

Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.

As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.

Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.

…

Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.

She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.

Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.

In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.

With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."

Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"

Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."

Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."

…

Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.

Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.

"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.

With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."

Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.

"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."

Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."

Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.

"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."

Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."

Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"

Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."

Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"

Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.

Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”

Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."

"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?

…

Tag List <3

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis

[spanishskulduggery]

Just in case anyone needs to hear this - there was a time when I was REALLY bad at Spanish... I wanted to be good at it, but I wasn't

I have a core memory of me of sitting on my bed surrounded by flashcards and just crying out of frustration because I really did want to learn Spanish and be able to understand it, but I was not there

Whenever I got something wrong or messed something up or couldn't remember a word or just plain didn't know the answer to something I felt like such a failure and that all the work I was doing wasn't getting me anywhere

I think a part of me wanted to be really good at Spanish and if I wasn't perfect then I wasn't good, if that makes sense... and there were times when I wanted to give up but I also knew I couldn't or wouldn't give up

I don't know if this is determination on my part or stubbornness but as much as I despaired thinking I was never going to know Spanish, I also felt in me that I could not walk away from it, at least not for good

I don't know when the despair started to fade away... I think it was when I was starting to tutor people at school, or when I was understanding the grammar more - at least things I had already learned

Some of it was just the memorization of tenses and conjugations where it wasn't a struggle in every way at every moment

And then I started to get to the point where I was good enough to read things, and I could look up answers on my own with a dictionary and I could find other people discussing the grammar I had struggled with, or trying to find context I didn't have for some phrases I was seeing

I got to a point where I was more comfortable, but still didn't know as much as I wanted... all I knew was that people were struggling with things I already knew, which meant that I had learned it, and that I knew what I didn't know so that helped immensely because it made me feel like I had something to gauge my progress

So again if you see me and think "wow they know so much I'll never get there", don't compare yourself to me - I've been studying for close to two decades now and I still don't know everything about everything

Grammar I know because I took lots of classes and read A LOT, and not just books I mean I was reading grammar sites and dictionaries to try and figure out things like "what's that se mean?" or "why is this word feminine if it has the masculine article?" or "why are these two conjugations different but okay to use?"

It feels like it takes forever to get there, but learning Spanish to the degree that I have feels like a real achievement for me - it's not something I lucked into or got right on the first try, it's something I earned myself for myself

It's going to take time but if you put in the effort and if you really want it, you can get there too

[suw4]

Your Voice

Hinata Shoyo from Haikyuu!!

an/tw: TIMESKIP SPOILERS! im so thankful with all the love that the first part had gotten!!! so here's a treat for you. the writing might be a little messy but am hoping you like this

Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist

part1 | part2

The first-year couple sat at a nearby playground. Both of them are sitting in the seat of each swing. "I didn't know you felt that way, [N/n]," Shoyo felt guilty. He was so indulged in volleyball that he failed to focus on his boyfriend's feelings. Even though it wasn't his fault. "I didn't want you to worry. So I didn't say anything. That's why I've been avoiding watching you play,"

"Oh. I thought you were only busy with your studies..."

"I am. I mean, what else can I do when I can't play volleyball with you?" [Name] let out a dry chuckle. "Once I'm done with education, I'll find myself a good high-paying job so I can afford a hearing aid at least. I don't think I can afford a cochlear implant. That stuff is hella expensive. A little risky too since I will have to get surgery," he sighs, looking up to the star-littered sky.

Shoyo stood up and stood in front of the other. Taking his hands into his and squeezed them. "I'm sorry that you had to experience this, [N/n]. It must've been frustrating, huh?" he whispered, slowly letting go and embracing the [h/c] haired. "I'm sorry," he repeated. [Name] could feel the vibrations on Shoyo's chest. He closed his eyes and hugged the male back. "That stupid drunk driver...! If it wasn't for that idiot, you would've..." the tangerine mumbled. Aggrieved about what had happened to [Name]. Tears swell in his eyes. He felt that he could've done something. But what could he possibly have done to prevent that accident? He was only a junior high student.

[Name] parted from the hug. "Should we go home now? It's late. Your mom is most likely worried by now," he smiled softly as he signed. Reaching out to wipe Shoyo's tears. The shorter male then nodded as he let out a hum.

After a nice relaxing shower, with a small towel over his head, the [h/c] haired male entered his shared bedroom. Seeing his lover lying in bed already. Shoyo placed his phone beside his pillow and spread his arms out. Welcoming the other into bed. [Name] smiled at the sight and hurriedly climbed into his arms. Shoyo wrapped his arms around him and helped him dry his hair afterwards. [Name] laid his head against his chest. Even though he couldn't hear it, he felt it.

"I love feeling your heartbeat, Sho," he snuggled further. He could feel the vibrations sped up. He chuckled. "Are you embarrassed?" he teased, looking up at the other, whose face was flushed with light pink. "Uwah..! Why are you always so verbal when teasing me?" he whines as he covers his cheeks. [Name] laughed lightheartedly and took one of Shoyo's hands away from his face. Leaning forward to give a little peck on his lips. "Sleep," he simply gestured his right fist downwards by the right side of his head. After that, he repositioned himself. With his back against the mattress, he pulled his boyfriend onto him. Nuzzling the tangerine's fluffy locks. Shoyo exhaled in satisfaction and snuggled into the other's warmth. He bid [Name] goodnight, the other replying the same. Slowly, both of them will meet each other in dreamland.

Years passed. Shoyo had gone to Brazil to expand his skills in volleyball. During breaks, he was seen texting on his cell phone like there was no tomorrow. Refusing to remove his attention away from the screen. Oikawa, who was present, became curious and suspicious of his behaviour. Arching a brow at him, he called out. "Oii~ Hinata! What's with you and all that texting?" he asked, walking towards the said male. "Oh, Oikawa-san! I'm just texting my boyfriend,"

"Oh? Boyfriend? Since when!?" shocked, he plopped by the shorter male. Peeking over to the screen. "Since like forever! He's always busy, so you never get to see him in any high school games," he says, still replying away. The older male hummed as he watched him interact. "Oh. Quite a man you've gotten yourself!" he piped when he saw a tad bit of a photo in the chatroom However, he earned a quick glare from the other with the comment. Oikawa was slightly surprised but decided to ignore it. "Hm... How come you don't just call him?"

"He's deaf. Calls are prohibited. Anyways! Look!" Shoyo showed a picture that [Name] had just sent him. It was a picture of [Name] with Yamaguchi at the college cafeteria they were attending. Oikawa was caught off guard by this critical information about his boyfriend, but again, he decided to move on. "Ah, good for him then,"

"Mhm! I'm so proud of him! He decided to get a degree in arts in photography. There aren't many job opportunities for people like him, so..." he unconsciously showed a cheeky smile. Going back to his phone to continue communicating with his beloved boyfriend. Oikawa's expression softens. "Wow, you guys are unbelievably annoyingly cute," Shoyo laughed at that comment. "I owe him a lot. He supported me like hell. Have so much faith in me. I just want to repay him back,"

The atmosphere between them fell into a gentle breeze. It was calming. Impressed, the older male asked, "Ohh! Do you have any plans about it?" Shoyo's smile widens upon hearing that. "Yeah! I want to gather as much money as I can and get him that cochlear implant," Oikawa's eyes widened, and his back straightened. "What!?? Those things are expensive as hell!"

"I know! Once I have enough, I want to go back to Japan and surprise him with that. Now I can't wait for the day to come," he locked his phone and laid his forehead on the screen. Imagining the scenarios. He felt giddy about it. "As much as I hope for the best for you two, I don't want this to disrupt your volleyball training," the brunette says, leaning onto the palm of his hand. "It won't! I've got everything figured out!" he grinned, pumping his fist as he turned to face the older. Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, shrimp. Now let's go eat for real!"

Two years passed, and finally, the greatest decoy was back home. His plane just landed. Stepping onto his homeland and making his way to receive his stuff. Once he walked through the gates, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. Smells like nostalgia.

"Shoyo," a familiar gentle voice called him. He paused and turned to the direction of the sound. A clicking sound could be heard. He saw the love of his life standing there, holding up an expensive-looking camera marking him. His lips stretched into a wide, toothy smile. He started running towards him and pounced on him. Clinging onto him like a koala. [Name] let out a big laugh, locking the male tightly in his arms. "[N/N]!!!!!" Shoyo wept deafeningly. Any passerby stared at the two with a few judging and sympathetic looks.

A wave of relief rushes over him and suddenly all of his tension leaves his body. He felt lighter. A whiff of a smell that lingered on [Name]'s clothing comforted him. He smells like home.

The decoy pulled himself off his lover but his grip on [Name]'s clothes stayed. "How did you know I was coming home today?!" he exclaimed. "Oikawa-san may or may not have texted me," he giggled. "Oikawa-san? No way! I wanted to surprise you! That damn great king!! He beat me with my own boyfriend?!??" he yelled once more. At this rate, they might get kicked out by security. [Name] nudged his boyfriend. "Let's get out of here and eat lunch," he suggested, lifting a paper bag that he had with him. The volleyball player nodded and took his hand, making their way out together.

They settled down at a peaceful park. The photographer had planned a mini picnic with just the two of them. They ate with satisfaction. Shoyo leaned against his boyfriend as they watched the children play about. His cell phone beeped. He took out to see an email. His eyes widened slightly as he sat up, alerting the other. "Sho? What's going on?" [Name] asked. Shoyo's expression was full of glee. He quickly put down his bento and scooted closer to the other. "I have a gift for you!" he signed excitedly. The other male raised a brow. Shoyo then took his hands. Looking down at them and caressing them lightly before lifting them up to kiss the knuckles. "I have booked an important appointment. For you,"

"An appointment? For me?" Shoyo nodded. "I need you to clear up your schedule tomorrow because tomorrow you're going to meet your doctor to discuss about your cochlear implant," he signed each word slowly. Making sure his partner was able to understand it fully. [Name] narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word. "Are you joking with me?"

"I'm not! Look!" Shoyo picked up his phone and went through his emails. Pressing on one particular inbox and showing it to the other. It was an email from a hospital in Tokyo confirming the appointment date. [Name] read it. Reality slowly kicks in. "Shoyo, are you being for real?" his lips trembled lightly. His boyfriend nodded with a smile on his face. "Yes! I'm being so for real right now!" The [h/c] haired gazed down to his lap, clearing the lump in his throat. "Shoyo..." his voice cracked. "Thank you... Thank you..!" his tone differs every second. Filled with so much gratitude that he couldn't stay composed. Shoyo moved himself to sit right by his side and wrapped an arm around his arm. Letting [Name] lean against him. His head lying on the other. "Shoyo... I love you so much," he declared. The other hummed as he responded, "I love you too, [N/n]," The tangerine-haired then reached up to graze his knuckles along his boyfriend's cheeks. [Name] rubbing lightly against his touch. Earning for more. "I know you wanted to get them yourself but I can't let you. You've been such an amazing boyfriend to me and I just wanted to repay you," [Name] read his lips, showing an assured smile. "You're such an amazing boyfriend to me too, Sho,"

The appointment went well. The doctor was patient and nice. The doctor informed them that [Name] must meet the requirements and go through a few tests if he's suitable to get the implant. The process would take a few weeks, almost a month. The couple will have to be patient for it. While the [h/c] goes through it, Shoyo will be supporting him throughout.

The day of the surgery arrives. [Name] was already in surgery while his boyfriend waited in the waiting room. Bouncing his legs, hands clasped together. Shoyo couldn't help but worry. Anxious as hell. All of the possible bad situations came infiltrating his mind.

What if he doesn't make it through? What if he loses his ears? What if the surgery accidentally cut his ears off?!!!!? What if the surgery fails and he can't hear for the rest of his life?? That he'll be so depressed that he won't have the will to live anymore because he will never ever hear my voice again!!??

Luckily, all of his friends were there to snap him out of it. "Ow!! What was that for!?" he groaned after a certain blue-haired male chopped the top of his head with the side of his open hand. "You're freaking out, dumbass!"

"You're sweating up a pool. Stop it, It's disgusting," Tsukishima added, expressing a disgusted face. "Don't worry, Shoyo! He'll make it!" Yachi tries to comfort the male. "Yeah! Besides, he's getting an implant, not a heart surgery!" Yamaguchi tries to support the female's claims. The mention of heart surgery made Shoyo retch harshly. Almost fainting in the process. Chaos ensues. In the end, they all brought Shoyo out to ease his mind.

The doctor mentioned that it would take a week for the implant to heal, so after that surgery, the gang treated the patient for a simple outing. Nothing too extreme. For the rest of the week, they let the male rest while Shoyo was heavily treating him as if he had an incurable disease.

At last, [Name] went for his final checkup. He would finally get the final piece of his cochlear implant. There he sat on a chair--across his doctor's office desk--with his boyfriend beside him. The doctor congratulated the couple. Complimenting and praising the two for how they've handled the surgery recovery. He then pulled out a box and placed it on the desk. Sliding it towards his patient. "Here it is. Your cochlear implant!" he exclaimed with a smile on his face. "I'll leave you with it now. I have another patient to attend to so I'll leave you to it," he continued, making his way out.

[Name]'s lips trembled slightly as overwhelm overcame him. He hesitantly took the box in his hands. His heart pounds loudly. He let out a low grumble before turning to Shoyo. "Will you do the honours, my love?" he signed. Shoyo's eyes stayed glued to him and gulped afterwards. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You've been so caring and understanding towards me. Babe, you even attended sign language classes with me. Up until now, you've helped me. Now, this is your reward. Be the one that gives me the ability to hear again. As for me, let me hear you," [Name] expressed his feelings through his words. Even though his words were slightly slurred, they hit Shoyo straight into his heart. He was deeply moved, eyes swelling up a little. "Okay. Let's do this!"

Determined, he took the box from [Name]'s lap. Taking a deep breath and out, he lifted the lid. There it was. The hearing device lying comfortably in the softness of the white cushion. "Close your eyes," he told his boyfriend who complied. He then took the devices out. Attaching them onto the side of [Name]'s head and ears.

The breeze, the sound of the air conditioner running. He hears it. A gush of wind brushes along [Name]'s skin. He gasped sharply and his eyes almost popped out. He hears his breath. His heart beating at a rapid and exciting pace. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he snapped to Shoyo. His eyes glistened. He gave him a longing look. It tells him so much. But one stood out.

Speak for me...!

Without hesitation, Shoyo parted his lips. "[Name], I love you..!" he yelled. Shocked waves filled [Name]. It was so loud that he instantly covered his ears, flinching. The other male panicked. Spouting a series of apologies while his arms flailed around. Then the sound of laughter echoed. He looked at his boyfriend was laughing with tears. [Name] sprung out of his chair, embracing his loved one. "I can hear you!" he beamed. Shoyo's heart pumped. He hugged him back tightly while his lips stretched ear to ear. Practically laughing along with his lover as well. "You can hear me!" he repeated.

"Say my name again, Sho," the [h/c] head asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his lover's neck. "[Name]," the other replied. This time saying it slowly and articulated each syllable. "Again," he demanded. Shoyo repeated himself once more. This time his tone was much softer. [Name] pulled away from the hug and leaned in for a sweet kiss. Shoyo didn't hesitate to kiss back, slowly wrapping his arms around the other's neck. "Thank you," the taller male breathed out. Pulling away from Shoyo's lips to kiss his forehead instead. "I love you. I love you. I love you," now kissing all over his face, earning a giggle.

The decoy cupped his face, stopping him from giving any more kisses. He gazed into his eyes with a loving expression. "[Name]. I. Love. You." A light tint of pink painted itself over [Name]'s cheeks. Bringing up his own hands and rested them over Shoyo's.

"Please. Say that again,"

[tags]: @ghostgoosygoose

[traumasurvivors]

I wrote a blog post about how harmful it can be to have your emotions invalidated growing up. It's here if you want to check it out! I'll paste the text below the read more for people who don't like links, but if you're comfortable, I really appreciate getting hits on my site! It feels really validating after all the work I've put into it. I've opted to not have any ads or anything to monetize my site, so it isn't like those annoying clickbait articles.

The effects of having our emotions invalidated while we’re growing up isn’t talked about enough and it can have lasting effects. This can happen when people say things like “you don’t know real struggles” when a younger person is upset about something they’re struggling with. This might include being told “I’ll give you something to cry about” which implied that the reason you were crying then “wasn’t a big enough reason”. Other people may have had to deal with “worse” problems and so we were told to be thankful for what we had because of what other children experienced. Your feelings of sadness, frustration, disappointment or anger were still real and valid. And you were allowed those feelings.

You may have been told to “stop being so sensitive,” which taught that you weren’t tough enough. You may have also been told “it builds character” which may have made you feel that you had to find a positive lesson in every bad thing you experienced. This can also be part of how people invalidate the seriousness of abuse, and other things that happened to you that were someone else’s fault. If someone doesn’t want to take responsibility, they may minimize what happened to you. They may say it’s okay because “they didn’t mean to do it” or “they don’t know any better,” perhaps because of abuse they went through. Your feelings may be invalidated because someone wants you to “let it go.” How serious they feel it was, or the reasons it happened, are not reasons that your feelings should be ignored or disregarded. Your feelings are valid. You should never have to “let it go.” 

These things that we were told, and many more, taught us that our emotions were bad and wrong. It likely felt invalidating. It may have been damaging And it probably affects how we see the emotions of others. I’ve had people say similar things to me now that I’m an adult, and I think it’s likely they do it because they were told things like these when they were younger, too. Over time, this has led to me invalidating my own feelings. I’ve told myself I should be strong and to avoid such feelings, or that the reasons for them weren’t “big enough”. I told myself that others had it worse than me, therefore I wasn’t allowed to be upset. None of these things helped me. Instead, they actually made me worse off. I bottled stuff up and then began using unhealthy coping methods to deal with the emotions. Having our emotions invalidated as we grow up can be traumatizing in its own way. It also doesn’t teach us how to effectively deal with and process our negative emotions. This can lead to people having fits of uncontrollable rage, spirals of depression and guilt, substance abuse to avoid feelings, and any number of other unhealthy reactions that can cause us more harm and prolong everything or make it worse.

Being unable to cope with my feelings was a big part of me not being able to cope with conflict in my relationships. Downplaying any “bad” thing that happened and ignoring it meant, for instance, I wouldn’t point out and deal with a small (sometimes completely unintentional) mistake. Instead, I let my feelings build without communicating about them and let my resentment build. By the time I acknowledged and spoke about my feelings, the problem was a thousand times worse than it would have been if I had dealt with it quickly. And sometimes it was too late to fix the damage done.

It’s not too late to learn and do better. You don’t have to be thankful it wasn’t “worse”. You don’t have to find a silver lining. While it’s important not to get stuck in our feelings long-term, sitting with them and feeling them and acknowledging you aren’t okay is okay! It’s okay to think something sucks or that it wasn’t fair. It’s okay to feel frustrated or sad over “small” things. Sometimes we don’t even understand why a situation or something has left us having such big feelings, and that’s okay, too! Your feelings are real and valid, even if they don’t make sense to you. And you deserve patience and compassion. Especially from yourself.

When you have negative feelings, if you find yourself minimizing them, or telling yourself why you don’t have a right to feel them, stop and try to be aware of what you’re doing. And allow yourself to feel it if you can. I've often had to remind myself that while it is uncomfortable, I can be uncomfortable and sit with my feelings. Think about if there’s a healthy response you can have to those feelings. For instance, if someone said something hurtful to you, talking to them about it might be a lot more productive than acting like you don’t care. Your feelings are valid. And invalidating them yourself is unlikely to be good for you.

Try to remember that, and try to be kind to yourself.

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

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[hina-hina]

If you're still doing requests could we get HC's of Ghost or Soap who've fallen in love with fem!reader whos a selective mute and a new recruit to the 141? Perhaps theyre even the sweetest person he's ever met and it's instant heart eyes?

I myself rarely talk and I've found it gets a lot of stares from people, men especially which is weird but warranted I suppose?

Hello friend, this is sooo cute!! (❤´艸｀❤) I'm so sorry people did that to you just because you don't speak. Just like anyone, your worthy of love and deserve to be treated kindly! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it!!!

|| Ghost + Soap With a Selective Mute S/O ||

Warnings: Military!Reader,

Female!Reader // Romantic

Can't believe i didn't use this gif when it was actually Christmas, shame on me

|| Ghost

So, I 100% see Ghost as the type of guy to be like "I don't care what you do as long as you can get the job done"

So he feels quite indifferent to the fact your selectively mute

But whenever he starts to get to know you more? He is gone

He starts to notice you silently doing small things for him without ever expecting anything in return

Which isn't something he is very used to

Things like you bringing him tea (made the british way because he won't drink it otherwise), helping him with his gear, etc.

You even once repaired his mask for him

He would set about learning sign language for you (If that's something you use)

And of course he struggled and got frustrated but it was all worth it for the look on your face when he says "thank you" in sign language

He also is quite the biggest fan of your company because he too is a man of few words

You two enjoy just sitting in each others presence, just coexisting without the need to show out for the other

It's very comfortable

If you ever felt comfortable enough to speak with him, he would be in awe

Honestly, you start to feel anxious because he is just staring at you blankly

After you prompting, he would eventually clear his throat, thankful that his mask hides his rising flush

"Your voice is.... very pretty..."

How can you help but to lean up and press a kiss to his masked cheek?

|| Soap

He would be a little questioning at first

But after a sharp look from Price, he immediately fixes his expression

He would quickly see why you were just as capable as anyone else on the force when he sees you in action

Absolutely loves how sweet you are despite everything you go through day to day

He is so thankful when you do things for him

Would also try to learn sign language if it's something you use, even though his attempts come out a bit uncoordinated

He is very protective of you and will quickly glare and ward others off if they look at you weird

He introduces you to his journal and encourages you to have one as well

Finds himself pondering what your voice sounds like often

He has a whole spread in his journal with sketches of you and notes on what he thinks you sound like

He would never push you to talk however

If you did decide to talk, he is all smiles

"Quite the voice ya have there, Hen. Pure dead brilliant."

Could barely stop himself from kissing you when he sees your bashful smile

Thankfully, you beat him to it

As always, thank you for all the support, whether it be likes, reblogs or replies! I'm thankful for everyone of you and I'm glad you enjoy what I like! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)