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angelwithdemonictendencies · 5 months

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he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.

jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).

since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.

when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.

it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.

it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.

but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.

"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.

and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"

his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?

understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."

he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"

how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?

"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.

he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."

and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.

"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.

you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.

"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"

your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.

his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."

you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.

"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.

"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"

despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.

"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."

his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."

that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.

at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.

but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.

and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"

your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"

her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."

you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."

your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"

you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.

"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"

"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.

"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.

"being forgotten?" your friend asked.

"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.

"you look like you have someone in mind."

a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.

"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.

you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.

"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."

and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.

you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.

his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"

you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.

"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"

he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.

the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.

you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"

from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.

one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.

"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."

"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.

"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."

you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."

"we miss you so much. see you soon?"

you agreed, thanked her for her help.

"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."

having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.

"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.

"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."

the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.

very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.

you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.

they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."

"what if he's not interested?"

"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."

"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"

your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"

so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.

when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.

you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.

you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.

you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.

a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.

a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.

your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.

you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.

you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.

the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.

"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.

"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"

your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."

you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.

he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"

you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.

during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.

"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.

the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.

even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.

with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.

the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?

"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.

jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.

his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."

with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.

"have a game, sugar, here we go."

you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.

bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.

jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.

his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.

for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.

"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.

you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.

"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.

you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?

"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.

you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"

without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.

on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.

"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.

"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.

you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.

everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.

so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?

you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.

his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."

"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."

you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.

you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.

you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.

his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.

the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.

surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.

you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.

the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.

he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.

you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.

"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.

he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"

you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.

the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.

one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.

"alright," you chastised.

"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."

your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.

"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.

"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."

you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.

pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.

you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.

and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?

i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.

careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?

your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.

but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.

the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.

a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.

"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.

"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.

he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."

the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.

"what?" he said, grinning.

you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."

and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.

he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.

what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.

"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.

his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.

you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.

that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.

and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"

and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.

you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.

"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.

and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.

maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.

"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.

"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."

you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.

and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.

too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.

"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.

so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.

your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.

a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.

"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.

it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.

he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."

you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.

"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.

you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.

and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.

you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.

jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"

you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."

his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.

you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"

"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.

he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.

you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.

when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.

"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.

you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.

but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.

as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.

"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.

deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.

and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.

after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.

later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.

after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.

kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.

he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.

his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.

when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.

he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.

you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.

"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.

you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.

you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.

but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.

you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.

the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.

while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.

then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.

you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.

walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.

"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.

his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.

you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.

this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.

"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.

"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.

"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.

he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.

he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.

he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.

you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.

he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.

you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."

you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.

he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.

he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.

"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.

one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.

he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."

"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.

jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."

when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.

"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.

you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.

luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.

you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.

most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.

"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.

the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.

walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.

"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.

he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.

you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.

jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.

something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.

"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.

you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.

"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.

"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.

you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"

he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.

would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?

the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.

a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.

jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.

"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.

your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.

you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.

the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.

you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."

he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.

as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?

the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.

you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.

it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.

you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.

you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.

"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."

later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.

but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.

"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.

"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.

"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.

you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.

he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.

you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.

"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.

"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.

you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.

staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.

he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.

you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.

"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."

you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."

never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."

he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.

"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."

the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.

his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"

you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.

"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"

you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.

he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.

everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.

you should have known it wouldn't last long.

a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.

something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.

maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.

and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.

and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.

a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?

it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.

but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.

and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.

it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.

so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.

still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.

the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.

at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.

"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.

he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."

and that had been the end of that.

so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.

you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.

you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.

"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."

you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.

"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.

he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"

you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."

seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.

and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.

every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.

he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.

he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.

when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.

"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.

when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.

how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?

jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.

you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.

you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.

of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.

until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.

you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.

the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.

the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.

like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.

slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.

it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.

because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.

finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.

in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.

waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.

you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.

"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.

you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.

"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.

you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.

auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."

and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.

the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.

time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.

you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.

you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."

for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.

you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.

you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.

for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.

"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.

you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.

he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"

you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.

"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."

you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.

you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.

"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.

"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.

"yes."

"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.

you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."

there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."

you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."

he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."

you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."

he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.

so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.

he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.

and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.

"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."

he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.

you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."

in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.

when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."

it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.

"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.

you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.

"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.

and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.

it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.

he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.

"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.

"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."

you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.

you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.

you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.

you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.

you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.

"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."

there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.

he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.

that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.

"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.

fin.

#hockey #nhl #hockey smut #nhl smut #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #auston matthews smut #auston matthews imagine #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #new jersey devils #toronto maple leafs

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notscarsafe · 3 months

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OKAY SO what with the TWO new Hermits implied by the updated banner I will say that, though the Skizz truthers have me convinced, I now have room to do my own crazy red string monologue and throw my hat in for my choice

1) Mythical J. Sausage (the J is silent) is a multitalented S-tier builder that absolutely deserves to be shoulder to shoulder with the Hermits. The man does buildings, interiors, terraforming, custom trees, and he does them SO WELL.

2) The production values!!! Beautiful replay mod sequences with shifting camera perspectives, shaders, music that sets the tone for each segment that's different from series to series. He already has more than a million followers on YouTube and for good reason!!

3) He has been SO consistent lately. He started a hardcore world about three months ago (about the time you might expect the Hermits to finalize their s10 choices maybe...???) and already has 15 episodes and hasn't gotten involved in any other big content. (He did just start playing a little of the BCG server but from what I understand that's super casual /copium copium copium).

4) That hardcore world is conveniently about to reach a good "pause" point. He started his world on a cherry blossom biome island that he's filled with a medieval village and starter farms, he's said it's almost full and what's left is the castle. I'm guessing the new season will start the first week of February, so if Sausage puts out a video this week building out that Castle and finishing that island it will be MIGHTY CONVENIENT TIMING.

5) This man can GRIND. His Hardcore world hasn't even been going half a year and he's built... So much??? Magnificent! And when he was on the Hermitcraft server he did the Razorcrest for scar AND the player head baby yoda/stormtrooper merch AND the noteblock themesong AND still built in the xmas village and other "diamond of peace" and so many other shenanigans. Did the man even sleep? He can grind with the best of them.

6) He can do redstone, too! Maybe not unique designs, I honestly don't know, but he builds farms for build materials no problem.

7) The DRAMA this man loves his improv and his backstory and trauma lore! For every series he does! Can you imagine if he gets to interact with Ren for an extended period of time, what that would do to them, to us?? Give Martyn a run for his money!!

8) Which brings me to my next point, which is that Sausage is already One of The Gang, because he's been in series with so many of the Hermits already! Empires and the crossover, obviously, but also Pirates with Cleo and Origins with Scar, and he's even done MCC! Joel is the only other player with the same depth of different series but there are other people truthing him already.

9) The EPIC BROMANCE with Pearl. My god the devotion of this man to his sunflower goddess bestie. I would try to do ot justice but y'all have seen floweroflaurelins work, you already know.

10) He's already a PG streamer but with HILARIOUSLY PG-13 tendencies. Imagine him and Cleo cracking each other up at an HHH stream, *grips your shoulders* IMAGINE IT.

11) Sausage comes with his own mascot in the form of interdimensional dog extraordinaire Bubbles, but he's also just an animal lover on general. Mans drinks his "I love Jellie" juice and had her in his world even before the sad news of her loss.

12) Diversity win! No one should be hired just for their gender, race, sexuality etc etc unless it's truly necessary to the job, but we were all happy when more women got added to the server in s8 and I know a lot of people would be happy to see some ethnic diversity added, too.

... That bulletin board had a lot more pins in it than I thought it did but anyway MYTHICALSAUSAGE TRUTHERS/ALL OTHER TRUTHERS RISE UP SPEAK YOUR TRUTH! we'll only get to wildly speculate for a few weeks so we might as well make it everyone else's problem ENJOY IT TO THE FULLEST!!

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft 10 #hermitcraft s10 #mythicalsausage #hc s10 #new hermit speculation

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alexfromjersey · 7 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕋𝕨𝕠 | 𝕁𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕆𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕒

Jenna Ortega x Black!Reader

summary: you and jenna have been in a relationship for the past eight years when suddenly everything starts to get rocky.

warnings: mature language, angst, alcohol consumption. cigarette smoking

a/n: by popular demand I give the second part of Cheated. appreciate all the support this got 🫶🏾

“I love you, Luis”

You couldn’t get those words out of your head no matter how hard you tried. It kept echoing in your head like an annoying song stuck on repeat. You’ve tried every method of forgetting by either drowning in alcohol or overtime at work. It only suppressed it for a little while before it clawed back into your brain.

You didn’t know where you went wrong in the relationship. You kept wondering if you did something wrong. What could have you done better? You were stuck with questions with no answers.

You took another sip of whiskey from the glass as you scrolled through the thousands of death threats and hate tweets you got on Instagram and Twitter.

You're used to it though, when you and Jenna first started dating a small portion of fans didn't think you deserved her. You never paid them any mind knowing that they were only upset that they didn't get a chance with her.

jennaortegafanduel: you don’t deserve another peaceful day in your life

mxortega: you attack a man unprovoked how much of a coward are you

guiterriezortega: I told y’all from the beginning that I never liked Y/n. Luis and Jenna were always better looking together

No one knew the truth. The truth as to why you attacked Luis in the first place. No one seemed to care to ask why you did it. They only focused on the fact that their dream man was hurt. Jenna nor Luis's team bothers to put a stop to the narrative being spun.

You had half the mind to leak all the pictures you had to the world. To show them the real Jenna Ortega. But the sensible side of you advised against it.

Eight years down the drain…eight years. Those years didn’t just represent you and Jenna being together. It represented you finally taking back your life after your mother snatched any happiness you felt. It represented a start over and finally experiencing a life and a love you never experienced before.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

“Come on Don put your back into it” You struggled as you and Donny tried to carry a dresser to his apartment.

“I’m trying. This shit is like 200 pounds” Donny grunted as he tried to get a good grip on the furniture.

He was definitely exaggerating about the pounds. But it was heavy as hell. You were helping Donny move into his new apartment downtown. You wanted to be a good friend but you were starting to regret helping out.

“Is it stuck on something?” You grunted.

“No I just can’t get a good grip-wait I got it!” Donny shouted excitedly. He finally got a good grip on the dresser and the two of you finished bringing the dresser inside the apartment.

“Never…again” You stated out of breath.

It was about 7:45 and you and Donny were nowhere near done. You just wanted to return to your comfy bed and finish watching that new Wednesday, Netflix show. It was an addictive show, with the lead actress selling Wednesday Addams really well and in a creative modern way. You grab a box and go to walk back into the apartment when a body collides with you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry" You apologized to the woman.

"No, I should be the one saying I'm sorry, I collided with you," The woman said. You look down at her and you recognize the woman as the actress of the show you're currently watching.

"Oh...you the new Wednesday Addams," You said nonchalantly.

"Guilty" Jenna smiled sheepishly.

"Aye your show is fire except for the love triangle...no offense but it wasn't really needed." You told her.

Jenna chuckled, "Thank you and duly noted. We're scrapping the whole love triangle in the next season anyway."

"Good choice" You stated with a smile and adjusted the box in your hand.

“Moving in?” Jenna asked you, pointing to the box in your hand.

“Nah I’m helping my best friend move his stuff in. I live like 10 minutes away from here” You answered.

Jenna nodded at your answer.

The two of you just stood in front of one another in an awkward silence. You didn't know what else to say to the woman. You were kind of too busy checking her out subtly. She wore something simple: Samba Adidas, an oversized jacket, and some loose-fit jeans. She had her headphones around her neck and a purse around her shoulders.

"Uh...I don't want to take up any more of your time. You have a nice day" You politely smiled and turned to walk away.

"Wait" Jenna called.

You stopped and turned back towards the girl.

"If you're not doing anything tomorrow. There's a new coffee shop that just opened not far from here. You don’t have to say yes or anything I was just wondering if you would like t-”

You smirked at her rambling and placed the box down. You ripped a piece of paper from the box and wrote your number down. “Text me and I’ll meet you there.”

"Okay," Jenna smiled.

PRESENT TIME

Abruptly, you were brought out of your thoughts by a familiar ringtone.

My love ❤️ is calling…

Perfect timing. You had to change that contact name and photo immediately.

It was your first picture together ever, you took Jenna on a date to the fair. You called ahead to at least get two hours of park time before the general public came. It took some money but it was worth it. You weren't a picture person barely having any photos of yourself anywhere but that day the two of you took so many pictures.

You declined the call for the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since you left Jenna at the police station she’s been calling and texting you nonstop.

You place your phone on silent and screen down on the motel bar counter. You’ve been at this motel for the past couple of days. You were staying at Donny’s but you didn’t want to be a burden on him and his family. So you got a motel after much protest from them.

You finished your drink and left the bar. You stepped outside the building for some fresh air and a smoke break.

SIX YEARS AGO

“Smoking kills you know that right?” Jenna commented when she saw you leaning against the building with a cigarette hanging from your lips.

You shrugged, “We all die someday.”

“True but why speed up the process by smoking these cancer sticks,” Jenna said.

“I’m sorry…didn’t you get caught in the media smoking a cigarette with Gideon” You smirked at the girl.

“One time. It was one time. I haven’t done it again especially not after the way my mother embarrassed me on her Instagram stories” Jenna grumbled.

You let out a laugh, you remembered that day. When you saw her mother’s stories you teased Jenna about it for a good week. It was funny but also sweet that her mother was thinking about her health.

“It’s not funny” Jenna mumbled. Her being mad still made you continue to snicker before you gradually stopped.

PRESENT TIME

You finish your cigarette and flick the bud to the ground. You stomp it out and turn to go back inside when you hear a car door shut.

“I’ve been calling you,” A familiar voice said from behind you.

You freeze in your tracks at the sound of her voice that used to make you swoon. You turned around and faced the neutral-faced woman.

“Yeah, I know but what are you calling me for? We ain’t got shit to talk about” You said and placed your hands in your jacket pockets.

“We have a lot to talk about…I want to explain myself” Jenna revealed.

“Whatever you got to say, keep it to yourself” You stated. You turn around and go towards your room when her voice stops you again.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry for everything” Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking at the end.

You stopped again in your tracks.

“I fucked up severely. I should’ve never cheated on you” Jenna said. Tears were pooling in her eyes.

“Why did you? Why did you cheat?” You asked the millionaire dollar question.

Jenna sighed and shifted on her feet, “Because he was there. I wanted to feel something different. I was tired of being stuck in the same cycle. Going away for months and then coming back home to you working 12-hour shifts, barely getting any attention from you.”

“So to sum it all up, it’s my fault that you cheated” You spoke.

“No, I just-” You interrupted Jenna.

“You just wanted someone that wasn’t me. You wanted someone who could give you all the time and attention that you wanted. Someone who didn’t have to work a regular job to sustain themselves. Someone who could afford to take you to these expensive places. Someone that you wanted to be seen in public with. Someone that was enough for you” Jenna interrupted you.

“That’s not true Y/n” Jenna exclaimed.

“But it is true Jenna. If it wasn’t you wouldn’t have cheated. If you were happy in our relationship, the idea of sleeping with someone else would have disgusted you” You spoke.

Jenna stood in front of you, lost in her own thoughts.

You sniffled, “I told you from the start that I don’t tolerate cheating. There’s no second chance with me if you cheat. My trust in you has dissipated and I don’t know if you’ll ever get it back.”

“Y/n please I’m sorry. We can fix this” Jenna sobbed and grabbed onto you.

You gently tried to push her off you but she had an iron grip on your clothes. She then pulled you down by your jacket and connected your lips together. Salty tears were all you tasted on her lips. For a moment, you felt yourself get lost in her lips.

“I love you” Jenna mumbled on your lips.

Back then she brought you back to reality, you pulled away from her. You managed to get yourself out of her grip.

“I’m gonna come tomorrow to get my clothes and stuff,” You told her and walked into the motel. For the second time, you left her standing there sobbing away.

THREE YEARS AGO

“What’s like your ideal wedding?” Jenna asked you as she cuddled up to your naked side.

“Hmm…I always said that I would like a beach wedding. Have the wedding during the sunset and the reception at a place that has a pool and just vibe for the rest of the night” You answered and rubbed her back.

“Oh, I love a beach wedding. The only problem I got with it is the sand in your shoes” Jenna said.

“No shoes. Easy fix” You shrugged.

“What if they don’t want to have no shoes?” Jenna questioned amused.

“Well, tough tits don’t come” You chuckled. Jenna let out a giggle. The two of you just lay there, cuddled up next to each other in a comfortable silence. Cherishing the warmth of each other you rarely get to feel.

“I love you Y/n” Jenna gushed.

You sat up on your elbows and looked at her with nothing but love and happiness in your eyes. You love this girl like you never loved any other girl before. She was the love of your life and you would do anything for her.

“Baby?” Jenna’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You hummed while still staring at her.

“You okay?” Jenna questioned softly.

You smiled at her and connected your lips to hers, “I’m perfect.” You deepened the kiss by putting all your love into it. You slowly move on top of her, holding your weight up by your palms. Jenna wrapped her legs around your waist pulling you closer.

PRESENT TIME

“Hey Apollo, how you doing boy” You gushed as your dog Apollo jumped on you excited. You brought Jenna a dog for her birthday a couple of years ago. He was a Golden Cocker Retriever (Golden Retriever + Cocker Spaniel).

Apollo nudged you with his nose and licked your face. You chuckled at the excited dog. You stood up and saw Jenna and Gideon at the kitchen counter watching you with Apollo. Gideon had a sympathetic look on her face when she saw you.

“Hey, Gideon” You politely said to the woman.

“Hey Y/n and Donny” Gideon replied to you and Donny.

You ignore Jenna and make your way to your former bedroom. You and Donny start to pack up your clothes in the boxes you brought. You packed up your game, anything you wanted you packed.

Thankfully, Donny had a truck to put everything in even though you didn’t really have a lot of stuff.

As you were loading the last box in the truck, you felt someone watching you. You turn around and see Jenna behind you.

You sighed, “I’m not doing this again Jenna.”

“Can you please just listen to what I have to say?” Jenna pleaded with you.

You sighed and leaned against the truck with your arms crossed.

Jenna nervously played with her fingers, “I know that saying I’m sorry isn’t going to undo what I did or ease the hurt that you’re feeling. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted to feel how I felt when we first got together before my career and your job started getting in the way. And instead of me coming to you and talking to you about how I felt, I went to the first person that gave me what I wanted and I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have accused you of cheating. I shouldn’t have distanced myself. I shouldn’t have done any of it. I wish I could take it all back. I regret everything.”

“Let me ask you if you didn’t get caught, would you still feel guilty?” You asked.

Jenna opened and closed her mouth trying to find the right words to say. You grabbed a small box from your pocket.

“I wanted to marry you. I wanted to have kids with you. I wanted to grow old with you. I never felt love like I did with you. As much as I would like to fix this and move past it…I can’t. I can’t do it because every time I look at you…I just see you and him together” You said and grabbed her hand. You then placed the box in her hand.

“Despite what happened I’ll always love you but we can’t be together anymore” You kissed her on the forehead and gave her hand a tight squeeze. You then hopped into the truck with Donny in the passenger seat.

Jenna looked down at the small box in her hand. With shaky hands, she opened it to reveal a diamond engagement ring. She covered her mouth as sobs escaped. She felt Gideon hold onto her as they watched the truck you were in disappear around the corner.

It confirmed to Jenna that she’s lost you forever.

a/n: sooooooooo i went through like seventeen different versions of this lmao but i hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm gonna go rage on call of duty now :)

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x black!reader #jenna ortega x you #Spotify

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leincendiaire · 6 months

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anyways salty thoughts. dont expect me to be nice

this is the one problem not exclusive to the finale, god ed's character arc just. didnt do it for me at all. I excused it before cuz I thought it would pay off as the season went on but nope. he never had a genuine apology moment, just that youtuber apology like gag and the cat collar joke. like they literally show us how the crew was completely scarred by his actions but theyre later just completely fine with him on board???? and stede keeps being his biggest stan when I think he would have been like hey what the fuck!! im sorry I hurt you but I am not responsible for your actions and you hurt my crew whom I hold very dear!! I love ed but Fuck he really went too far those first episodes and he never makes up for it. they only ever focus on His Own self journey, not how he hurt and traumatized practically every other character.

"well, I think narratively izzy's death made sense but—" no!! no it fucking didnt!! im sorry but it was just lazy writing!! they didnt know what to do with him so whoops he gets shot in the dumbest way possible. like, this aint my first rodeo, it aint the first time ive seen a character start off on their character journey to happiness only for writers to give up on it and kill them off. it's a tiring fucking trope tbh and I really wish they hadnt fallen into this trap. like his death scene wasnt good either, if youre gonna do it at least focus on his relationship with the crew, you know, the people he came to accept as family? not the man Who Shot Off His Fucking Leg And Almost Killed Him? I know they had an important relationship but that shit should have been talked about way beforehand, it deserved closure. they should have acknowledged they werent good for each other and made peace with it. izzy deserved a death with people who actually made him happy. ALSO THEY BURY HIM ON FUCKING LAND?????? he spent his life at sea!!!! he is the most devoted out of everyone to being a pirate and you bury him next to your fucking inn???? fucking twats istg

lastly I swear they forgot stede is the main character. they forgot literally everything about how to write him. he gets No Focus in the finale, and every scene he is in is bullshit. I actually wanted to punch my screen every time there was a joke about him being incompetent or whatever. like, hello??? thought we left that shit in s1??? he had Multiple Episodes about learning to be a pirate and adjusting to his new life and gaining more skills but no. he is just silly old loserboy for his cool war criminal boyfriend now. literally no skills or experience whatsoever. ok sure yea thats totally how he acted the rest of the season. also the fuck is it with him staying behind to run the inn with ed?? wasnt the whole conflict last episode their different desires out of life, with ed wanting to start a normal life and stede wanting to be a pirate?? when the Fuck did he change his mind. who are you and have you done with my boy

honestly I feel bad because jenkins is actually a good writer and the whole fandom really expected a lot from a man making his second show, and I think there were a lot of budget cuts and production issues so I can see why it turned out this way. he is probably mad about this too, I bet the cast also, like even the acting in this episode didnt feel passionate, and thats saying a lot since these actors really love this show. im just frustrated. man. time to write fics ig

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #stede bonnet #edward teach #izzy hands #stizzy #gentlehands #gentlebeard #blackbonnet

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ackleskittles · 3 months

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SUPERNATURAL FINALE : an honest, maybe sometimes controversial, take on tv's biggest disappointment of this decade.

DISCLAIMER : in this essay, i will give my opinion about 15x20 of the silly long-running show Supernatural (no kidding???) and i stand by the fact that i hate it, BUT i am not just going to trash talk my comfort show the entire time, and will try to bring into light the things that actually worked (ahem, yes, i will try to find some...) in this episode. i don't need any attacks on my opinion, you can disagree with the things i am going to say, but let's stay civil, right ? hope you enjoy it !

let's face it, no need to beat around the bush : Dean's death is THE worst thing that could've ever happened to us. 15 years of adoring, worshiping THE best character ever created on tv just for losing him ?? this way ?? feels (sorry but...) fucking disrepectful to me. and listen, i haven't seen that cursed episode again in six months, so don't mind me if my blurry memories are failing me... it still makes me so mad, that the episode starts on OUR beloved hero living a peaceful life, happy, kind of, finally free from god's (yeah, more like chuck) who's been through literal hell, faced a hundred deaths, just to end up on that stupid rebar. fuckin stupid quick, meaningless death of a HERO. i can't even think straight when it comes to this but what makes it EVEN WORST is the freakin comedic part of this episode. the pie in the face ??? when THE Dean Winchester is about to die ??? or Sam's fuckin hideous wig ??? the episode focuses on some POINTLESS hunt involving a fuckin vampire literally no soul remembered from season 1 (if you did remember without even looking it up and just happen to have this knowledge, i am sorry AND really impressed) ?? are you just kidding ?? your main character dies, and you just make it absolutely no big of a deal ? i could not. disrespectful, once again.

Dean isn't even the only one who's been failed on this finale because the same disrespect is put on Sam. i'm not bringing back the wig again (BUT THE WIG THO ??? i know the budget is low with covid and everything but come on ??) but the blurry wife is the icing on the cake. but where they failed Sam the most is the way in 15 years (okay this is not only finale related but i thought it deserved to be brought into light) they never EVER gave the man a real closure with Jess. they literally bring every character back from the dead, or at least give the boys an opportunity to say goodbye at some point but they never even cared giving Sam a proper closure from the most important relationship in his life. this, pals, makes me insanely angry. but at least, Sam gets to live and have an ordinary life until his last breathe.

Castiel isn't even really mentioned again ?? i mean, no need for a long thesis about this shame but he's been a fan favorite for YEARS and they just ???

i reached the part where i have to list the things that worked for me in this cursed episode. well. it gave us Dean x Miracle ? the man deserved to have a dog. and it was one of the cutest thing they ever did on this show. Miracle is somehow Dean's little sparkle of joy and hope after losing Cas. kudos (somehow, in a way, i don't know) to Dean's last speech to Sam, and their heartbreaking exchange. it really moved me, and made sense, it was in character. Dean dying on his feet was also appreciated (and those kudos go to Jensen, thank you buddy) but i will explain why in the next paragraph. anyway, i don't have anything more to add, and trust me i tried really hard!! oh, the photography was also decent, but it's one thing Supernatural always did well, so... not surprising.

i am NOT a supporter of Dean dying in the finale, and i am thankful to the wonderful talented writer in this fandom for their amazing fix-it fictions on the finale. this ground is covered, so i am leaving you with ao3 for all the ways the show could have ended WITHOUT Dean dying. my man deserved to be happy and free ans well. i am going to cover the ground of THE WRITERS REALLY WANT DEAN DYING. fine. i don't agree, but you do you baby. 15 years of the show, Dean Winchester was depicted as a HERO. the fanbase has been dedicated for FIFTEEN FUCKIN YEARS and being myself a 2006 Supernatural fan, this finale made me feel like it was a total loss of time. as i said before, i WORSHIPPED (and i still do) this character like i've never worshipped any other character. what he (and we) deserved for always sacrificing his own happiness and life was to die the hero he's always been. to die, i don't know, saving Sam one last time ? with a show with great biblical implication, didn't he deserve a great biblical tragedy ending ? something huge, epic ? and i know this could be controversial because they are no longer under the influence of god himself, but he could have been paralleled to Jesus somehow, just joining heaven next to Jack and Cas as his mission on earth was over. i don't know. just thinking about things.

what could've also been great would have been Dean's life flashing before his eyes as he was dying. glimpse of unseen good moments, memories, as a tribute to the character. once again, he deserved no less than to be praised for everything he did for his family, and for the world.

anyway. revival is now a thing all over social medias and it could both heal us, or destroy us. it raised a lot of concerns, the most important being will Cas' confession finally be aknowledge ? i sure hope it will for misha's perfect delivery of it, and his fight to allow his character to be himself fully. but i also hope this revival finds a way to "cancel" the mistake the writers made with this finally. it could make sense. it could be yet another illusion, trick, anything really and they could (just like us) pretend it never happened (spoiler alert : it really never happened) and i don't want my hopes too high. but it's possible.

thank you so much for your attention. i wanted to write an essay about the finale but i feel like i've been here and there talking nonsense. i've never really expressed my disappointment before, as it was something really personal to me, but i am glad i finally did. there could have been so much more things said. or said in a better way, but i tried my best :(

love y'all, spn family <3

#supernatural #spn finale #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean x castiel #crowley #jensen ackles #destiel #misha collins #jared padalecki

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mushed-kid · 3 months

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okay klance au time

(i don’t think it counts as an au, because it’s not changing canon, its just something that could happen after canon)

warning this is long and hard to understand i cant be bothered. u either get it or you dont.

so i haven’t actually thought out all the details and stuff, this is very much just a thought i had:

It’s set after canon, aka everything stays the same. I KNOWWWW that farm lance gets a lotta hate and i get it trust me, but that also stays the same. Non-negotiable because this whole au basically built around that fact!!! so yeah suck it.

okay so everyone’s doing their thang, the paladins are growing up and like young adults, but they’re not teens anymore!

lance is at the farm, and keith works with the blade of marmora or whatever he ended up doing. i can’t remember but that’s what we’re going with. and you know there’s obviously some klance scenes in the last season and in this au that has developed as the next few years passed.

they might’ve started out hating each other and slowly getting better at standing each other, and then friendship developed into a little more, and now they’re basically dating. except they have never said that they’re dating, but neither of them wants to be with anyone else so it’s fine, they know. and they like it that way, it takes the pressure of. (everyone knows but it’s not something that’s brought up)

and anyway point is keith works in space right? and he comes back to earth often because that’s where they all meet, and they try to meet frequently. and that’s where lance lives, so why wouldn’t he? so he stays there when he visits, and it’s nice.

Lance, as always, goes hand in hand with angst. so add some of that. lance has gotten over his feelings for allura. obviously none of them have fully moved on, but with help from the others (and especially keith) he’s come to terms with that. however, that doesn’t mean it’s not constantly affecting him anymore.

he’s already lost allura, and he’s not actually dating keith, but he’s realized that he might not be as straight as he thought over the last couple years. and maybe there’s more to it than just letting keith stay at his house when he visits because he doesn’t have a house, and more because well he might be dating keith but he doesn’t know if keith considers them that. even if it feels that way sometimes

and he’s worried that it’s gonna be another allura-situation. he doesn’t want that, and keith is out in space trying to spread peace and stuff. and lance worries. lance doesn’t want to lose him before he’s even sure that he had him.

and he’s been trying to ignore that thought because everything is fine. keith wont get hurt. he knows what he’s doing and the war is over, so what’s the chances?

but then keith gets hurt.

and the whole thing basically boils down to lance going straight to proposing. because that’s just what he’s like, it has to be good, it has to be perfect. because keith deserves perfect. and it’s not like he can ask keith if they’re dating.

and this is honestly the part i haven’t thought that much about, this idea is mostly based on the setting. but im thinking he gets some help from the other’s at earth to plan it. everyone gathers at lance’s farm because that’s what they always do when they meet up. and everyone is there because keith comes back injured and stays with lance while he gets better.

and lance is nervous because what if he read all of this wrong, he did imagine the rival thing back at garrison, but the others help calm him down. and idrk how but he proposes to keith and asks him to spend their lives together and whatnot.

they have a BEAUTIFUL wedding, and the flowers that remind him of allura are all over btw. they’re in love and everyone’s happy despite it all.

yeah idrk i haven’t worked it out but i like the story. it’s based in the song Found by Dan Davidson. I think it’s cute and it fits with the farm thing. you have to listen to it to get my vision:

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landwriter · 1 year

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The tiny emissary is everything to me

Her death causes minimal interruption to her goings on. It’s peaceful and in her sleep and she waves death off with a flick of her tail and continues to trot along in front of dream

When the appointment comes, and it does, for Death had been honest when she told her brother she wouldn't make another exception for him, the cat is sleeping. It is a grey afternoon in November, and the first snow of the season, arriving strange and early, has just started to fall.

She has, Death knows, through regular coffees with Hob and occasional walks with Dream, lived a long and fulsome life. There is no fairness in her function, but if there was, she thinks it would be the life that such a beloved cat deserved.

As a rule, most creatures are less afraid than humans are to walk with her to the Sunless Lands. They have not worked so much to forget her existence.

So she expects the lack of reaction, when she greets The Cat with a warm smile.

The little black ball of fur, though now streaked a bit with white too, unfurls herself from her body in this world, and stretches, yawning wide as a lion. She licks a paw and looks at Death, unsurprised.

"Hello, little one," says Death. "It's time."

She adds, because she can't help herself, and because it's true, "You brought my brother and his husband a great deal of happiness, you know."

The Cat blinks at her, and Death feels a little silly. She obviously knows, of course. Death recalls all the stories she's heard of her, and instead offers, "Have you heard of the Sunless Lands? They're a fine place to explore."

She waits for the cat's reply, which is perhaps her mistake, because cats are far less inclined to follow those who would wait for them. Or perhaps, she thinks, what happens next would have happened anyways, the reaction she did not foresee:

The little black cat flicks her tail and walks away.

Death trails behind her as she makes a circuit of her former home, hopping up onto every windowsill to admire each view one last time, visiting each of her favourite spots to nap, sniffing a bit at a bowl of kibble she is no longer quite corporeal enough to eat. When they return to the living room, to the couch where she's still curled up, Death thinks she's ready.

"Shall we?" she asks.

The cat blinks.

Then Hob comes in, elbowing through the door with arms full of groceries, already talking. "I've got you tuna, my dear, don't tell-" and then sees Death and brightly says, "Oh, hello."

Then he looks past her and sees only one cat, the one curled still on the paisley couch, not the one twining around his legs in happy greeting, and says, "Oh."

"I'm sorry," says Death. She wishes he hadn't come home to this.

"No," says Hob, although his hands are trembling a little as he sets the groceries down on the counter, "Please don't be, it's only your job. We've had a good run. Almost two decades," he says, and smiles a little wetly. "Just about, anyways. Long life for a cat."

"But it must seem awfully short to you, Hob," she says.

"Yes. It does," he says and swallows. "Is she already-?"

"We were just leaving," says Death. The Cat looks up briefly from her circles around Hob's legs, and then goes back to ignoring her.

Hob squares his shoulders a bit and smiles, truly warmly this time, and Death sees again, so clearly, how this is the man for her brother.

"Well," he says, "I know you're busy, but would you like a cuppa before you go?"

So Death finds herself sitting in her little brother's kitchen, sipping herbal tea and talking to his kind husband about all this unseasonable snow, lovely though, isn't it, this is exactly why they moved out of the city. Hob is not looking in the direction of the living room. The Cat is, in any case, actually sitting on his lap and staring very at smugly at Death.

When their tea is done, and Hob reluctantly stands to do the washing up, she leaps down to stalk toward the front door, and Death is about to try and whisper to her that they actually do, really, need to go, that it will hurt her to keep staying, the front door opens again.

Dream is not a human. He sees her there, and crouches at once to greet her, murmuring endearments in, Death thinks, Akkadian. Something about a dark queen of the night. Something about a million slain enemies and sharp silver claws.

Hob is still holding a violently floral tea towel and drying a mug when he turns around, confused, and understands at once.

"She's still-" he starts.

"Yes," says Death, at the same time Dream says, "Yes," and glares at her. She thinks as far as jurisdiction goes, this is rather hers, but then again, Dream is Hob's husband, and they're in his kitchen.

Hob looks over to the approximate spot where The Cat is receiving incorporeal but no less satisfying scratches from Dream.

"Well, goodbye, my sweet one," he says. "Thanks for trusting me. Thanks for letting me be your friend."

He looks at Dream, then, as if he expects him to say something too.

Death looks at her little brother as well, who seems not nearly as upset as she would've guessed. He unfolds himself and stands, then opens the door again.

The Cat walks out, like she was waiting to be let out this whole time, leaving no paw prints behind her in the fresh-fallen snow.

Dream crosses the room and touches Hob's face. It is so tender that Death almost looks away. "Hob, you need not to say goodbye. She is not going to the Sunless Lands. She is going with me. To the Dreaming."

"Oh," says Hob softly, and then kisses him, and Death does look away then.

Dream never even took his shoes off, she realizes.

Her little brother eventually extracts himself from his husband and nods to Death.

"Sister," he says, with a satisfied little smile.

Then he walks out after The Cat, and neither of them look back.

#dreamling #the sandman #tiny emissary of the night #asks #prompt fill #dream of the endless #death of the endless #hob gadling

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heleeanthea · 6 months

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There is only one thing that I feel having watched last episode and it's disappointment. Not even sadness, not even anger, im just disappointed.

Izzy Hands deserved better.

We all, as the audience, deserved better.

You know, when the first season came out I was one of those people who really did not like Izzy at all. I almost couldn't believe that his fans even existed. Then, before second season I thought, well, Im sure that they will give him a redemption arc but Im going to hate him anyway as there is nothing that can redeem him in my eyes. I was so very sure of it.

Wrong, I was wrong. I admit it.

I loved his arc in second season, I loved every second of it. Truly. It has done what seemed utterly improbable to me - made me Izzy Hand's nr. 1 fan. It was just such a great piece of writing. From his initial first disobedience towards Blackbeard and then his finding himself and his worth outside of Blackbeard. His singing (he's great), doing drag (so beautiful), helping Stede, being a friend to him, helping Lucius, finding a family within the crew and finally, finally achieving what - as he said himself - piracy is about: belonging. He found his place, became the new unicorn. He begun to accept himself, to finally let go of all that bitterness that he had inside him in the first season. He allowed himself to be true to himself, to show his more vulnerable parts to the world. He was starting to feel better.

And then they killed him. And what makes it even worse, they did it in such a stupid, useless and anticlimactic way.

You see, Im generally against killing Izzy. I find it to be an utterly disappointing conclusion of his arc. The guy changed so much for the better during this season, becoming a better person as well as becoming more mentally stable and I believe that his arc deserved to have a much brighter and more optimistic conclusion. Where is a scene where he becomes a captain on The Revenge and finally is at peace? Free from Blackbeard, with his found family next to him?

Where is a promise to all lost, young, queer people that thing will get better even though now you may feel no hope?

We didn't get it. What we got was a rushed sequence that was directed more toward serving Ed's arc than Izzy's.

Why did he get shot? No reason, it was just random; it wasn't in a fight, it wasn't the unicorn protecting someone from his crew (which would make his death slightly less bad). The sole reason of him getting shot was to kill him off.

Was it needed for his arc? Well, it could have been done better and make more sense, yes. But wouldn't it make a more satisfying ending to give poor guy some happiness? When the whole season was focused on him earning it and allowing himself to feel it? It would turn out much better to acknowledge his growth and give him space to grow even more.

I don't even feel like Izzy's death was necessary for Ed's growth; not when both their arcs focused on finding themselves outside of constituting Blackbeard.

That's why I hate how Izzy's actual death moment is played out. The scene isn't about Izzy, it's about Ed. It's so focused on him that it almost hurts. Why is Ed the only one who's close to Izzy? Why is the crew so far away? Izzy loved them, they loved him, why don't they come closer and show it, he deserved it. And even Izzy's words, they are so focused on him telling Ed thing's that he needs to hear to grow further but... he doesn't need to hear it from him? It doesn't have to be Izzy who tells him that the crew loves him (which, arguably, is not really true as they are still wary of him after all that happened in the beggining of the season??), especially not when it's the last chance for Izzy to be told that he is loved, he is a part of the community, to be forgiven and apologised to.

And then they get over him so so fast? Just seconds after the funeral Stede is standing there and... trying to boast what great piece of pirat he is? Trying to make Zheng compliment him?

Also, why shoot him in his left side, missing all the important bits, and then have him die anyway?

#izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #omfd spoilers #omfd s2 spoilers #edward teach #con o'neill

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muthaz-rapapa · 3 months

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Hirogaru Sky Final Impressions (5/5)

Honestly, what were they going to do with those two weeks after 48 episodes? Have us wait until WonPre's broadcast? Yea right, lol

So the 20th installment of Precure is now officially finished and it feels both great and a little bit sad to say that since the bar has been readjusted quite high, we will probably need the 25th anniversary to get another season as awesome and well-written as HiroPre. [/harsh]

But that will be for something to worry about in the next five years.

So first, that finale!

Pretty much 5(ish) of the 6 last episodes was a whole arc dedicated to the most engaging lore Precure has ever given us to date.

Cure Noble is definitely entering the league of legacy Cures and perhaps as the one with the best story as well. How she went from princess-sovereign to becoming the very first Precure (in this universe, anyways) to helping pave a way for peace with her nemesis to laying out the foundation for the Cures who will succeed her in the future.

Yeap, Ellee-chan may have gotten a nice age-up bonus so that we can see her embrace her destiny and actually converse in something other than baby talk.

But it's more accurate to say that Ellee-chan/Cure Majesty's character arc is really Princess Elleelain/Cure Noble's instead.

Which is totally fine with me. Not only was Elleelain super interesting as a hero/protagonist in her own era but Kaiserin was...dear god.

Dear god, when have we gotten a twist that was this good and this dark by the series' standards? I felt we haven't touched this level of grim writing since Heartcatch and that was my first Precure season ever.

But seriously, it's impossible not to sympathize with Kaiserin and appreciate how much she contributed to the plot as well as this season's message that power is not what makes a hero, but the strength of one's heart that does.

Even her traitorous tutor, Skearhead, said she had what it took to become a hero (and maybe even Precure? oooh~), which just makes her fall into darkness more tragic.

But thankfully, she never lost her kindness and compassion, which was what ultimately allowed her to not only be saved but her wounds to finally heal after hundreds of years of suffering from the pain of betrayal Skearhead had inflicted on her.

And that her generals, who all turned over a new leaf, came back to the Undergu Empire to loyally serve her and make sure she isn't alone...

Good! This is so satisfying, I couldn't have asked for anything better! Kaiserin deserves her happiness after all she's been through!

But of course, that's not all because no Precure finale is complete without the last episodes dishing out the best combat scenes of the entire season and did it deliver, alright.

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-HUH!

The animation was absolutely stellar and not so overdone that it'd look more gaudy than cool. coughDeliPaPrecough

Moreover, the teamwork is what really sold the animation. As it should because Precure is all about that team effort brought on by personal growth, not a one-man show.

I loved how Wing, representing wisdom, was the one everyone trusted to get that barrier back up because it is a mechanism that he researched and developed to help everyone. It proves that boys don't need to fit into a specific mold of masculinity or genius to be a hero because in the end, those things don't matter. It's being true to yourself, your beliefs and your dreams and what you choose to do with those abilities that counts.

I loved how Butterfly, who is physically the strongest in the group, always takes on the tougher tasks such as facing the army of tedious mooks to let those younger than her forge a path ahead. She never forgets her responsibility as an adult to protect the kids but she also encourages them to move forward because she fully believes in them like a good adult would.

I loved how Majesty comes to understand that though she's meant to inherit Cure Noble's will and power and position as Skyland's princess, it's not her destiny to inherit Elleelain's loneliness. And the whole reason that she started out as a baby but was able to grow and become Precure was because she was surrounded by the right people who brought out that potential in her. For Ellee-chan, being with her friends and fighting alongside them was the bigger, more important destiny than her duty was.

Finally, the star duo of the show.

Sky was given stronger MC vibes than the other cast members but you can't deny that she wouldn't have gotten this far without Prism by her side.

Sora's idea of what it means to be hero expanded a lot because she became friends with Mashiro.

She has come to treasure Mashiro so much that when she was on the brink of losing her best friend, she let Skearhead corrupt her in order to have enough power to save that best friend. She was willing to sacrifice herself for someone important to her, which in a way, can be seen as an act of heroism (but only as a last resort, plz do not attempt).

And even then, Sky kept resisting from being taken over. Prism didn't even flinch when Sky aimed a punch at her. That's how much Mashiro believes in Sora, in the hero that Sora is. That even if Sora accepted darkness into herself to do the right thing, she won't ever let that darkness consume her into doing the wrong thing.

And the fact that it was Prism who had the ability to not only purify Sky but also heal Kaiserin's centuries-old wound. She's come a long way herself from the girl who used to think she was talentless, who didn't believe she had anything special going for her.

"You are good as you are now, Mashiro-san."

What Sora said was true until the very end. Mashiro didn't ever need to change. She was already good enough and she was always going to become even better than how she started out because she was always being inspired and supported by those around her and challenging herself to do things she initially hesitated on doing.

Now she's continually drawing new stories, even winning an award for one. Even her Prism Shot evolved and multiplied as an attack and it's all because she learned to believe in herself because all her friends believed in her.

This is essentially what sets Precure apart from the others, what makes it the major name it is in modern day mahou shoujo.

I cannot begin to describe how glad I am that the staff at Toei reinforced those aspects of friendship as well as the celebration of individualism in a milestone year. But I can definitely say with confidence that we can expect to see more well into the franchise's 30th anniversary as long they don't forget these two very crucial things.

As for me, I think this will be the last time I blog Precure on a "regular" basis.

I'll still continue to watch cuz hey, there's no reason for me to stop yet.

(and all the more reason to not stop if Satoru and Daifuku become the next two male Cures in WonPre OMGI'MSOGONNAJINXTHISAREN'TIBWUAHAHAHAHA!!!)

But my priorities have shifted so I gotta tend to those foremost. And as much as I enjoy the show, I feel like I'm always saying the same stuff over and over again anyway, just in different variations of it.

(also, something about WonPre tells me the next four years will be filled with hit-or-miss seasons so meh, I'd rather just follow it leisurely than get too invested and then disappointed)

On another note, I do have some personal rankings that I'd like to post some day. I was going to do it for the 20th anniversary but didn't have time to cuz life got way too hectic and busy but yea, eventually I'll have them up.

Just for fun, y'know.

Ok, that is all.

Thank you, my hero girls and boy! You made this season so wonderful hahahaha, good luck, WonPre for me and I can't be grateful enough for it.

Thank you for a beautiful anniversary! Let's aim for the next!

25th year with 100+ Precure!

Let's gooooooooooooo!!!

#hirogaru sky precure #cure sky #cure prism #cure wing #cure butterfly #cure majesty

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alexlibbey · 1 year

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shadow & bone season 2 spoilers below!

Ok I just finished season two of shadow & bone and I have so very many thoughts!!

Despite not following the plot of the books and kind of cutting and pasting plot points together, I really loved this season. I view it less as an adaptation of the books and more as an adaptation based on the books. If you take out the pressure of the show supposed to be the same as the books, it’s so much more enjoyable!! I thoroughly enjoy seeing this unique adventure the two stories go through.

I think the proposed six of crows series could just be them going on more adventures and stories from the barrel! Maybe delving more into their backstories and relationships and adventures they went on before landing where we meet them and it would be amazing.

Wesper, despite the altered storyline, are absolutely perfect and I love them so much. I want to put them in my pocket. Their dynamic was nailed and it so lovely to see progress throughout the season!

Kanej (as well as Freddy and Amita) absolutely owned this season. They have the characters and dynamic down to a T. I love them so much and they are my all-time favorites!! I also am honestly quite happy with the ending of this season’s ending with Inej forging her own path in the world doing what she’s passionate about. And not just living under or for other people. I truly believe that they come together again, but they both need and deserve time to grow. Anyway I just love them so much and aaaaah.

I really tried to start loving Mal but I really can’t stand him. He has great moments and is overall a good character but sometimes he just says things that remind me of Gale from The Hunger Games and just get an insane ick.

Genya needs to feel peace and happiness next season and Daisy needs all of the awards like oh my god she was brilliant. Also I love her coronation outfit with the matching eyepatch and dress.

Nikolai my love he is literally golden and amazing and I just love him. Literally a beautiful person and character. Also that man has insane rizz like I’m genuinely impressed.

JURDA PAREM AND THE ICE COURT HEIST NEXT SEASON?? I’M SO EXCITED.

Anyway that’s all apologies for this insanely long post I just have so many thought in my head wooo.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone spoilers #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow & bone #shadow & bone spoilers #shadow & bone season 2 #kaz brekker #kanej #inej ghafa #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #genya safin #nikolai lantsov

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everythingsinred · 10 months

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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Mikan (pt. 24)

Yesterday, we finished talking about the Sports Fest Arc. Though Luna has been dealt with, Natsume is still distant, and Mikan will feel the effect of this during this next transition arc.

This arc's purpose is to build tension and suspense for the upcoming monster of an arc. If any of the chapters leave you with a vague, unsettling feeling, that's intentional!

<- Prev Next ->

Chapter Eighty-Nine

The Red Team won the Kibasen in the end, securing their victory in the Sports Festival. Often, at the end of an arc, Mikan will say, “[insert event here] ended safely!” but that will be increasingly not the case from here on out. Though things seem happy now compared to the frustration and jealousy of the previous arc, unbeknownst to Mikan, this is just the beginning of a long period of suffering. This current peace is incredibly fragile and due to break any second. The ESP is now suspicious that Mikan has the stealing alice, which will flavor the next transitionary arc as he tries to get confirmation.

Mikan my beloved always and forever (you deserve better than the character arcs ahead of you).

I really don’t want to get into all of the ins and outs of why I don’t care much for Mikan having the stealing alice, but my biggest issue with it is how much it overshadows her nullification from here on out, and how the emphasis changes from Mikan’s uselessness complex and insecurity to the taboo possession of the potentially dangerous stealing alice. Mikan’s “uselessness” insecurity isn’t really resolved yet, so it makes me sad that the arc is left hanging open for the sake of the stealing alice.

Anyway, it is what it is, so we’ll be moving on.

It’s time for summer!

Class B has a new uniform for the season and things seem to have settled down. Everyone is getting along again and almost everything is back to normal…

Except for Natsume.

Everyone is gossiping about what could be up with him. He was more on Luna’s side than anyone else, but now that the truth about her deceitfulness has been revealed, his lack of apology or attempt to make up has confused everyone--leading some to guess that he might be upset with them for some reason. In any case, despite Natsume’s long-lasting popularity, he’s become a bit of a pariah since the Sports Festival.

But Mikan made the choice to believe in him, no matter what. She knows that he was manipulated and blackmailed like she was now, but his behavior now still bothers her. She concedes that he’s always kept to himself, but this is different from usual. Mikan knows that he’s not mad or anything--he’s purposefully isolating himself. She’s not hurt, just insecure and fearful about why exactly he would be isolating himself now.

When it comes to Natsume, Mikan has always had one consistent wish--stay stay stay stay stay.

Once again, Mikan’s intuition is spot on, and she has the feeling that Natsume might leave and he’s distancing himself to make his absence less felt. She tells her friends that she believes in him and that he wouldn’t act like this for no reason.

“His every action makes me feel insecure,” she thinks to herself, which means that she’s keeping her eye on him and that she is increasingly afraid of what he might do next. Though everything else seems to have slid perfectly back in place, this issue with Natsume is front and center in her mind. I say this because even though Mikan doesn’t interact a lot with him in this arc, she will never stop thinking about him.

Natsume’s self-isolation isn’t the only thing amiss. This chapter also establishes that Luna is back to being despised by this class just like she was when she was a child, as well as the fact that Narumi-sensei has been ill lately and hasn’t been coming to class.

Mikan and her friends go to Central Town to buy gifts for kids with May and June birthdays, but she is distracted for most of the trip. Hotaru correctly deduces that she’s freaking out about the alice stones she was able to pull from her classmates at the Sports Fest and her suspicion that she might have a second alice. Hotaru fills her in on the New Year’s Arc, how her life was saved by a mysterious stone appearing in her hand--that there’s sufficient evidence to assume she has another alice in addition to her nullification.

Sigh...

Mikan is initially excited about this possibility, that she has two alices and that she might have to come up with a name for the second.

A passing Goshima tells her that such an alice would be called a stealing alice, which takes over Mikan’s mind for the next few days.

Chapter Ninety

Again, Hotaru is able to deduce that Mikan is concerned with the other person who possesses the same alice as her: Yuka, the notorious member of Z, who hurt her friends. Mikan is able to glean that she must have some sort of tie to her if they have such a rare alice in common. But Hotaru tells her not to worry about it--that an alice isn’t necessarily bad just because one person who possesses it happens to be bad.

The only thing I like about Mikan having the stealing alice is mother/daughter connection. The rest is bleh.

Of course, we’re in a strange place now where ¾ members of the main group know that Yuka is Mikan’s mother, but Mikan remains oblivious. It’s interesting that her friends keeping this a secret from her doesn’t really make much of a difference. Of course, Tsubasa and Natsume knowing is crucial since they have to do what they can to avoid hurting Yuka in their missions to find her. Additionally, Hotaru and Ruka knowing means they are able to warn Mikan to keep her second alice a secret. Without that knowledge, Mikan might open up to the wrong person which would have disastrous consequences.

Anyway, these scans are terrible but I’ll parse out what I can. Basically, there’s a group of troublemakers who have been running rampant lately because Natsume--who had previously kept them in check--has now been isolating himself. As a result, chaos has been all over the school. Sumire leads the charge in catching them, but they end up victim to another prank, causing the usual suspects’ souls to shuffle.

Mikan’s soul has sadly shuffled into Bear’s body, so she’s not even human for a bit here. She is very upset about this. Ruka seems to think she’s very cute and Hotaru teases her, and Mikan quickly turns to those most sympathetic to her plight, which creates an odd image of Hotaru and Natsume’s bodies comforting a crying Bear. They find out that this shuffle will wear off eventually--they just need to stay in the same area in order to get to their bodies. Unfortunately, Bear rather likes being in Koko’s body and has run off somewhere, so now the group is chasing after him.

I'm just a big fan of this panel, I don't know.

Chapter Ninety-One

Mikan--still in Bear’s body--finds her best friend Hotaru--still in her body--and notices that she seems upset. This is testament to their closeness. So far in the past few chapters, Hotaru has demonstrated keen understanding of what must be taking over Mikan’s thoughts. And now, Mikan demonstrates that she can tell when Hotaru is upset. Though on the outside, Hotaru seems the same as always, Mikan knows her better than that and can discern that something is wrong.

This is actually my favorite arc for their friendship.

Purely from Mikan’s POV, this scene is long and awkward for a bit there--Hotaru is quiet and not answering any of her questions. But then Hotaru hugs her, and it’s one of the only times (and I believe the very first time) that Hotaru initiates a hug with Mikan like this. Usually, Hotaru allows Mikan to hug her, or hugs her back after giving Mikan permission. But this time, Hotaru hugs her, and although Mikan is touched and happy to see Hotaru so affectionate, it’s even more evidence that something isn’t right, even when Hotaru assures her she’s fine.

Hotaru is able to change the mood, telling Mikan that they’ll be best friends no matter what.

But their moment is interrupted by another soul shuffle. Lucky Mikan is back in her own body, but Hotaru is now in Bear. Koko and Mikan, now in their proper bodies, are the most stable and thus should be responsible for finding Bear and bringing him back. Unfortunately, Koko wants to spend more time with Sumire’s new personality, so Mikan is on her own.

Except that Yuu has one more thing to tell her before she runs off--about Natsume. While he was in Natsume’s body, Yuu was in terrible pain. He assumed it was because of the soul shuffle, but he doesn’t feel pain at all being in Sumire’s body. Natsume, who goes frequently to the hospital, has been hiding the fact that he’s in constant agony from the rest of the class.

Always one consistent wish: stay stay stay stay.

Mikan doesn’t linger--she takes off to find Natsume. She has been guessing about Natsume’s alice shape for a long time and Yuu has just given her further evidence that she could be right. She’s been right about a lot of things lately, but this is one thing she doesn’t want to be right about.

She finds him quickly, but he turns away and doesn’t say anything, so his body must still be possessed, probably by Bear. Sound logic. She handcuffs Bear to prevent him from running off again, very proud of herself for catching him so quickly. But Bear!Natsume doesn’t want to move from the bench he’s sitting at, so he handcuffs himself to her and Mikan has no choice but to sit next to him for a moment.

This next moment is interesting because Mikan is the only one speaking. Usually, Mikan is the more talkative of the two, leading the conversation and being generally loud. But Natsume usually offers a quip or insult or some sort of snarky comment. This time, since he’s pretending to be Bear--or rather, just refusing to say anything and letting her come to her own conclusions--he can’t do that. He has to be entirely quiet and listen to what she has to say. Additionally, the fact that Mikan thinks she’s talking to Bear leads her to say things to him she wouldn’t otherwise confess.

This is the most honest she's ever been with Natsume and that's only because she doesn't know he's Natsume!

Mikan is in a grouchy mood, so she complains a little about how Bear and Natsume both share the same rotten personality, but the complaints lose their annoyed edge and her tone turns serious. Both Bear and Natsume are hard to understand, she confesses.

Despite the fact that she knows it was Natsume who confessed his feelings at the Borrowing Race and despite the fact that she swore she would put her faith in him, Mikan is still insecure. She wonders if Natsume really likes her at all. Everything between them is complicated and she’s understandably confused.

Mikan thinks she is currently talking to Bear, but Bear is a stuffed animal. He is not human and he doesn’t even speak. Really, in this moment, Mikan feels like she’s talking to herself. She’s finally letting herself say out loud and ponder the idle but pressing thoughts that have been plaguing her for a while now. It feels safe to do so, to finally be truthful about what she’s feeling--mainly confusion--because Bear is the one person who can’t really judge her no matter what she says. But it’s pretty huge that Mikan is even willing to think this, because, as we know, Mikan has been suppressing any analysis of her own emotions, especially regarding Natsume, from the very start.

But even though she’s finally voicing some of her thoughts, she’s not being entirely forthcoming. There’s still plenty of thoughts that she’s decided to keep to herself, namely what she really wants right now, which is to hear Natsume confirm something--anything.

I love that even when she's being more honest and upfront about her feelings than ever, she's still holding back. Queen of Repression, this one, even more than Natsume and I stand by that.

So much of Mikan’s understandings about Natsume are inferences rather than solid facts. Either Ruka spills some secret or Mikan has to play a guessing game, but in the end, Natsume never says anything about himself. He never talks about his feelings or his past or what he’s up to. Mikan has to figure it out herself, and he has never stopped being a puzzle. Ruka sharing Natsume’s backstory was informative because she now has solid evidence that she isn’t entirely delusional about him, but Natsume still isn’t offering any reassurances. The alice stone may or may not be his. That confession may or may not have been Natsume and he may or may not have meant it. Natsume might or might not leave, but either way, he isn’t about to tell her.

And she knows that he won’t. That’s what makes it all so frustrating--she knows him too well and Natsume hasn’t opened up about himself at any point in their relationship so why would he start now? Even her decision to believe in him was a result of her own inference and ability to discern that it was Natsume who had hugged her and thus that Natsume must be going through his own stuff too. So her faith in him, though she won’t be compromising on it in anyway, is still tied to insecurity. This new information about his health--again, given through another source and not the boy himself--only makes things worse. What if he really does “go somewhere”?

This is a really big moment for Mikan. She is able to open up, if only to Bear, but she still holds back. The last (and first) time she said out loud what she really wanted from Natsume, he rejected her in favor of Luna. She’s still not ready to be so vulnerable again, so she shares some of her thoughts but keeps the more fragile ones to herself.

But when Natsume holds her hand, she’s taken aback. This was supposed to be akin to talking to herself, helping herself work out some of her issues, or at least letting them out. She hadn’t expected comfort or affection, especially from Bear.

But it’s not really Bear, is it?

I looooooove that Mikan and Natsume kiss and hug and hold hands all before becoming a couple. It's so silly.

There’s proof that it has been Natsume all along when the kids run by and scream that Bear has finally been found, but I think Mikan figures it out when he holds her hand. Like I said, Mikan has been basing all of her knowledge of Natsume off of inferences and other people’s accounts. She knows him very well because she has been looking closely at his behaviors and actions, because she has no other choice. If Mikan ever wanted to know him, she’d have to do all of the heavy lifting in the relationship, to pay careful attention to how he acts in order to get even the slightest idea of how he feels. She’s always looking closely, and I think she can tell that it’s Natsume holding her hand, not Bear.

She and Bear aren’t close. They’re not friends. Bear has been nothing but violent and aggressive with her. Their best moments so far have involved deals and bargains, not genuine kindness or compassion on Bear’s part. This will change soon, but not now. Now, Mikan knows better than to think Bear would hold her hand after listening to her whine.

It’s Natsume’s body after all, and she had just been talking about him and how he’s been making her feel. It takes her by surprise, but she knows it’s him. He hugged her as an apology and he’s holding her hand to assure her now. It’s consistent behavior, and that’s all she has to go by, but it’s enough to know, even before the kids come running by.

They sit in silence for a moment after the crowd leaves. It’s awkward and tense for both of them. Now Mikan knows it was Natsume all along and she had just spilled so many vulnerable feelings with him. Moving on in this conversation will be uncomfortable. So, of course, Natsume leaves. He’s somehow able to uncuff himself, leaving Mikan on the bench. She could let him leave and continue to stew in the tense aura they’ve been living in since before the Sports Fest, but she doesn’t want to.

Very bold for her!!! I'm proud of you, Mikan!

She is always looking at his back, always watching him leave. What she wants more than almost anything is to make sure he doesn’t leave for good, to keep him here with her.

So she calls out to him. She knows she won’t get a full, emotional conversation with him about any of this (she's not ready for that either), but she still wants some sort of reassurance. She wants one answer and she wants to hear it from him this time. She asks him outright if he’s going to leave. Of course, she distances herself from that emotional fragility by using “us” instead of “my,” but we know to expect that by now. She’s already putting enough on the line by asking any part of it. She has to distance herself a little in order to get the question out.

She thinks to herself that she just needs him to confirm that he’s staying put, that that’s all she’ll need in order to stay strong. She wants to think she’s being silly, that she’s overthinking it, that this one inference is way off base. She doesn’t want to lose him, or even imagine that losing him is possible. Mikan was able to use her alice all the way across the room because of that fear, had to confront the possibility again during the New Year’s Arc, and was just now forced to endure the Sports Fest apart from him. One of Mikan’s most consistent fears is the fear of losing Natsume, so it makes sense that this would eat away at her like this, that she would need to hear assurances from him that she’s making it all up.

But Mikan’s inferences have rarely been off base, least of all about this. I think she knows that too, that she just wants to hear a confident “no” regardless of what the truth is, just so she can put off thinking about it, just so she can be secure for a moment.

That's good enough for now.

And he gives her that, the “I’m not going anywhere” that she’s wanted to hear for a while now. He doesn’t give her anything else, but she never expected him to. This is enough, because now she can relax for a bit until this subject inevitably rears its ugly head once more.

Chapter Ninety-Two

One tense moment resolves, only to lead to another. Mikan sees Narumi against a tree, obviously in pain and suffering. Mikan is naturally concerned, so she approaches him and asks if she could call anyone. He dismisses her concerns and assures her he’ll be fine if he rests for a bit, but that evidently isn’t even close to the truth because he then falls unconscious.

Narumi passed out gripping Mikan’s hand so she can’t run off to find help. She feels useless--such a novel feeling for her, right?--unable to do anything for someone she loves… yet again. Assistance comes from an unlikely place when Jinno arrives, telling her to remove his glove. She does and both she and Jinno are shocked to see his hand is rotting, obviously the work of Persona’s alice. Mikan recognizes the marks, and is horrified that Narumi was hiding this for who knows how long. Jinno voices worry that the marks have reached his heart and that he’s at the end of his rope and Mikan realizes what she has to do.

Nothing good, that's what.

She was told by Hotaru that she’d saved herself with her stealing alice when Persona had almost killed her. She knows then that her alice could do that again, for Narumi. But she was also compelled to keep this a secret, so using the alice in front of Jinno could cause problems.

Jinno has up to this point revealed no evidence that he isn’t loyal to the ESP or that he has his students’ best interests in mind. He could--and probably is, in Mikan’s POV--be affiliated with the fukitai and the oppressive systems here, more aligned with Persona and the ESP than the mysterious person looking out for her. But Mikan chooses to use her alice in front of him anyway, to put herself on the line and maybe even get in severe trouble, because saving Narumi is worth it.

Mikan is potentially sacrificing herself for somebody she loves here. She’s done it before and she will do it again, but this time is potent because when Narumi comes to and sees what she’s doing, he hits her. He doesn’t want the ESP to know about her alice, but Mikan cares more about saving his life than about whatever consequences this might have. Narumi hits her, probably for the same reason that Natsume told her he hated everything about her or that Hotaru left their village on short notice: to make her angry enough to give up on him. But that has never worked on her before and it won’t now.

Makes me wanna cry, not gonna lie.

Mikan is not a masochist. She doesn’t love to be mistreated. She just loves so openly and unabashedly, choosing to love the sum of what a person is instead of just the shiny, pretty parts. She continues to steal Narumi’s alice even after he hits her because she loves all of him and even the ugliest parts of him can’t deter that. Last chapter, Mikan was scared to lose Natsume. Now she’s scared to lose Narumi.

She doesn’t want him to leave “my--our lives.” This change feels different to me than her distancing from feelings related to Natsume. With Natsume, she chooses to be part of a collective so that she doesn’t feel as vulnerable sharing her insecurities. Even when it’s just her own thoughts, Mikan refuses to look too closely at her unique feelings for him. That’s not an issue with Narumi. She loves him and was even able to tell him so without a problem. Narumi has always been kind and supportive to her. They have had their ups and downs, but she knows that he cares for her and she’s not afraid to tell him how she feels. This change isn’t about distancing herself from the feelings, it’s about reiterating to him that she wouldn’t be the only one suffering if he were to die. “Our lives,” not just hers, because so many people love and need Narumi in their lives.

She believes that, and she needs him to believe it too.

I love analyzing comparisons, and the "my--our" thing just feels so different with Natsume than it does here. But of course it does. Natsume is always different.

But it’s not some epiphany on Narumi’s part that allows her to finish stealing his alice--it’s Jinno’s violent intervention and his command to her to steal it quick while Narumi is knocked out.

When it’s done, Mikan starts to cry. Because of what almost happened, because of the emotional confrontation, because of how Narumi treated her… Because of all of it.

Narumi hugs her, and it’s interesting that Hotaru and Narumi’s ploys to get Mikan angry are so short lived. As soon as she sees through them and acts on her own feelings, they give up. The ruse is over. Hotaru lets Mikan hug her, Narumi hugs her. Natsume keeps at it, though, because a small ruse is only part of a much larger whole. Mikan is constantly in this situation with Natsume, ignoring all the barbs and pain because she knows he’s hiding something important. This constant state of inference and insecurity is important because it will shift very soon.

Regardless, Mikan is exhausted. Not only has she used her alice, which is a physically taxing experience, but she’s just undergone an emotionally tiresome day. She rests in Narumi’s lap and all of his bitterness before has faded. What’s done is done. He will have to do what he has to in order to protect her from now on, and even Mikan knows that things will not be easy in the future.

Gakuen Alice is a story about love in all its many flavors and variations (until the last chapter, that is).

It’s the rainy season, he muses. It’s almost been a full year since Mikan came to the academy.

Seasons are crucial to this story, particularly for Mikan’s arc. She has matured a lot since she came to the school, but she will continue to change and grow. We’re about to be in summer again, just like we were when we first opened this manga.

Conclusion

We're halfway through the transition arc. I'll try to post tomorrow. In any case, it'll be soon. We're officially halfway through the manga, but the next half should go by faster because after this point, there's plenty of "reactionary" chapters instead of active ones. There's nothing fun to analyze in "Oh my gosh! I can't believe this is happening to my mom in the past!" so there'll be some gaps.

I have finished this essay already, but I'm too lazy to estimate how many parts are left. I think we might make it to 35 because there's definitely more parts to Mikan's essay than Natsume's. Maybe. I don't know. In any case, I decided that I would make a table of contents post after I finish posting. That might make it easier to navigate for new and returning readers!

See y'all next time!

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#gakuen alice #alice academy #ga #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #natsume hyuuga #hyuuga natsume #my meta #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: mikan #nm: m song of the day....#THINGS I'LL NEVER SAY by avril lavigne #100% a mikan song abt natsume. drives me crazy #if it aint coming out we're not going anywhere so why cant i just tell you that i care?#i love them so much they make me crazy

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commander-bellamy-blake · 10 months

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Been meaning to put this out there but because I’m a professional procrastinator I keep forgetting but anyways can we get a MOTHERFUCKIN AMEN in this bitch for Vinland Saga?

Like Thorfinn’s redemption arc is so well written and fucking wholesome, I mean this man went from being a rabid teenager blinded with rage

to a shell of a man who had seemingly given up

to a kind man who seeks dialogue and compromise to resolve conflict.

Not only that but he has vowed to never use violence again unless it’s absolutely the last resort, and he has made it his goal to find and establish a land that will be free of the pain and suffering brought on by war and slavery. 10/10.

Also shout out to my guy Einar for helping Thorfinn find his way out of the shadows. Started off as fellow slaves, then became friends and ultimately brothers I’m -….. Fate really crossed their paths when they needed it the most. I mean Thorfinn hadn’t smiled from ear to ear since he was a kid, until Einar came along

Also I didn’t know what to make of in the beginning but he turned out to be a pretty cool guy. I wished he had gone with Thirfinn and Einar, cuz tbh I’m not entirely sure why he stayed behind at the farm. He fought against the king so imo he paid back the hospitality they had given him. Also he was daddy so I wish we could have seen more of him in future seasons :(

Also old man Sverkel was cool af and I’m happy he didn’t kick the bucket. I hope he gets to live many more years doing farming shit and bickering with Snake.

Also Olmar��s arc? A+. It took almost losing everything and Thorfinn say that nobody has enemies after enduring 100 punches from the enemy, but my man came a long away and has now become worthy of taking the reigns of his family’s farm. Love that for him.

🪦 Arnheid and Gardar, they deserved better :(

And FUCK Ketil. The bastard tried to come off as a nice slaveowner but the moment shit hit the fan and Arnheid wasn’t there for him to abuse as consolation he went apeshit and fucking killed her and her baby. Piece of shit I hope he keeled the fuck over the next day.

Also Canute my pussy has not known peace since Canute’s glow up like ?!?!

#vinland saga #thorfinn #anime

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dinoace2 · 5 months

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Back and Forth

Anyone else make self-indulgent fics, writing themselves into scenes to try and salvage the situation that had just happened? No? That's a me thing? Ok cool

⚠️⚠️⚠️!!!!!JJK SEASON 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️

Anyway I love Nanami he is my favorite and he deserved better and I sobbed for 2 hours after all that.

The fic surrounds the reader(me lol), a childhood friend of Nanami, born to the inumaki clan but struggled to accept her position. She saw the danger in Shibuya and couldn't simply stand by, so here we are.

>3k words, Angst throughout, but happy(?) and peaceful ending. Segments in italics are memories throughout their past, and the one bolded paragraph is that natrator who explains stuff occasionally. Only kinda proofread ish so if there's grammar issues I am sorry

TW: I feel as though this should be obvious but blood and death will be a recurring thing here. Also she vomits like 3 times

Characters mentioned/involved: reader, Nanami, Mahito, Itadori, Arata Nitta, Shoko, Yaga, and Toge Inumaki.

(Character doesn't know all of these people by name so she describes them, and it is first person so here's the reference list:

Mahito is the stitched man, itadori is the pink-haired kid, Arata is the blonde kid, Shoko is the woman with the cigarette, and Yaga is the man with the sunglasses.)

Ok let's go

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I shrugged, scrawling out another note on the pad in my lap, then held it out for my friend to read, trying my best to hold it still.

'It isnt that I don't WANT to help people. It's just a lot of pressure, you know? There's thousands of sorcerers out there...surely one can't make a massive difference in the grand scheme of things.'

Nanami looked at the scribble, deciphering my familiar chicken scratch with ease. "I suppose you have a point...and I certainly can't make you do anything but...all I can do is make recommendations. You're incredibly strong, you know that? If you actually put your mind to it...you really could do incredible things with your skills." He smiled, reaching for my hand. "Im sure the higher-ups would still be willing to make you an official sorcerer if you wanted."

I sighed, scribbling another response.

'Yes, but, that's the thing. I don't really WANT to be special or incredible, you know that. I have enough trouble in crowds as it is.'

I paused from my writing and touched my lips, my fingers gently grazing the tattoos on either side of my mouth. I was given these markings when I was way too young to properly have a choice. They're practically a burden as they are, sealing me to a responsibility I never asked for.

'I'll exorcise a minor curse if I happen to run into one, but I really don't see much need in becoming a big fighter like you or Geto or Gojo.'

He let out a sigh, nodding slowly as he looked back at me. "Yes...youre right. I understand."

Of course he does. He's the one who gets it more than anyone else.

He stood up to leave, his seat swaying in his absence, and I crumpled up our conversation, feeling at the paper beneath my fingers. I didn't know it then, but that was the last time we would meet on those old swings.

I wish I were as strong and brave as you,

"KENTO!"

My voice came out in a shrill shreik, cracking and breaking as I shouted a name that no longer had an owner. the lower half of his body crumpled to the floor, much to the glee of the strange figure standing over him. It was instantaneous, one moment he was standing there, and the next...? I couldn't even comprehend what had just happened.

~~~

It was halloween. I had been minding my business when I sensed a massive concentration of cursed energy near Shibuya. Whatever was over there, it was bad. I fought with myself for a long while. Surely the sorcerers could handle it. Surely everything would be fine, it always ended up that way anyway, especially with all the powerful guardians Japan has. I can stay put. What need would they have for a half-rate excuse of a sorcerer who feared her own voice anyway? Its fine.

I froze when I heard the voice. Some kid – no older than fifteen or so – stood at a rooftop, shouting something. I had initially paused because I recognized the name he was screaming to, but my heart sank when I heard what came next.

"NANAMI! NANAMI, WE NEED YOUR HELP! GOJO HAS BEEN SEALED!"

Gojo? As in...the Gojo? How could that-?

I'm not sure why or how but at that point my mind was made up. I changed into something more practical, pulled a mask over my mouth, and left my home to face the very thing I fled from decades ago.

~~~

The train station was nearly silent as I ran through it, sneaking around to avoid confrontation as much as I could.

I heard fighting in one of the terminals, and sensed a massive cursed force, spread out across possibly hundreds of vessels. What the hell...? And...with every hit, every grunt, every sound I heard, it was getting fewer. There was only one sorcerer in there, yet he was...taking on an army. On his own...

When I got closer I finally recognized who i was hearing. Nanami. Of course he was able to take on that much. He's always been strong, so of course this would be no different. I haven't spoken to him in years...maybe after this we can take more time to reconnect. The thought made me smile.

~~~

It was a nice day...we were all too young to be worried about anything...too young to care. I was sitting on the swings with one of my dearest friends, talking over the creak of the old chains. I had recently participated in an incredible family ceremony, and I was so excited for the life ahead of me.

"Grampa called it..um...cursed speak!" I said, my smile bigger than ever as I pointed to the marks on my chubby little cheeks. "I can tell people what to do and they'll do it! Even those ghost thingies that not everyone can see!" I giggled. "I wonder if I can make Mommy clean my room."

My friend chuckled. "Alright, just don't do it to me, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay, Ken! I promise I wont." I put on the most innocent little smile I could. "Youve always done stuff for me anyways, right?"

~~~

As I made it to the terminal, I was frozen in place. It was nearly devoid of life, the demolished corpses of mutated figures piled on the ground around a single person. That was him, wasn't it? Nanami Kento, one of the strongest, most composed men I had ever met, but...he was badly injured, half his torso mutilated, most likely by fire, and he was covered in blood and wounds beyond which I had ever even considered possible. I was so taken aback by the sight that I hardly paid any notice to the stitched-up man that approached him. I heard them speak, only for a brief moment. Nanami turned his gaze to a child who had walked in on the other side and muttered something i couldn't quite hear...

And then he was gone.

"KENTO!"

My cry, unexpected to even me, caught the attention of the man with the stitches. He looked at me, lips peeled back in a too-wide grin.

"Ohhh! You must be a friend of his! I don't think anyone's mentioned you before, so you must be new!" He giggled, stalking forward as more grotesque figures rose around him. "How would you like to join him?!"

For a moment I couldn't move, and in fact it looked like everything was moving in slow motion.

~~~

The same playground, the same people, the same swings. Just...a different time in our lives. We were both stronger, smarter, but still just kids.

"Man, we're gonna be so strong together! And we'll get to hang out so much, too! The academy said we would be in the same class!" I grinned. "Can't wait to beat you up in school! For a grade!" I laughed, feeling the wind on my pale hair as I swung.

Nanami nodded, the same grin on his lips. "I think youve got it wrong, if you think im gonna lose!"

We laughed for a while, until I was brought to an abrupt stop by rough hands on my back. A different kid, much bigger than me, shoved me out of my seat. Another look told me he wasn't a sorcerer, nor did he have any idea what we were capable of. "Youve been on the swings long enough, kid. I've decided it's my turn." He snickered as Nanami ran to my side, helping me up.

I glared at the boy, slightly shaken by the interruption. "H-hey...what was that for?"

He smirked. "Aww, what's the matter? Gonna cry?" He snickered as he took my seat, and I felt Kento's hands ball into fists at my side. "Hey! You better leave her alone!" He growled.

The boy crossed his arms. "Wow, someone's touchy. Why, is she your girlfriend?" He chuckled as Nanami's face went a few shades of red. "I dunno why you'd even wanna be with her anyway. She's got...weird tattoos all over her mouth, like some kinda delinquent who went to jail! Or maybe some circus freak!" His laughter only got louder, and Nanami began to growl as my shoulders shook from humiliation, tears beginning to blur my vision.

My lip quivered but I planted my feet, glaring at the boy in front of me. "Just....go AWAY!" I shouted. The realization hit as soon as the words left my lips, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, but the damage was done.

The boy was flung, almost cartoonishly, forced away as if some invisible monster had thrown him by the ankle. He hit the ground with a hard thud as concerned parents started running over.

I was frozen, I couldn't speak, couldn't think. I did that? Such level of power and destruction, quite literally at the tip of my tongue, and I just....did that?

I didn't talk much after that.

Decided that school wasn't really my thing, either.

~~~

I stared at the approaching man, and the dozens of mutilated human corpses surrounding him. Just how strong was this guy? How could he have done that to Nanami without a second thought? Too much coursed through my head, but one thing was clear.

He wouldn't be continuing.

I pulled down my mask, taking in a deep breath. My lip trembled, my chest shook, and my hands balled into fists.

"Shatter."

All at once, the bodies before me froze, trembling as massive cracks grew up from their feet. They cracked like glass yet their flesh made creaking, squelching noises as they began to break.

In a single, simultaneous moment, every single transmutated monstrosity exploded, a mess of blood, flesh, and gore unlike anything I'd ever seen before. My eyes widened, and my hands shook as I stared on at what remained.

The recoil hit me like a truck, my entire body feeling as if it were about to explode. I doubled over as vomit and blood poured out of my mouth with a pained retch. My throat felt hollow, and my chest felt as if it had been torn open. I could only cough and wheeze and whimper, leaning on the wall to remain upright. In my current state I didn't even notice what had happened right in front of me.

The pieces of the stitched man began to stretch and grow, reforming into his original shape. He looked at me with a twisted grin, slowly stalking toward me.

"Oh! I didn't know you were a cursed speech user! You didn't look like one at first!" I couldn't move as he approached. "But from those markings...youre an Inumaki, huh?" He chuckled.

"Wow....dyed your hair, got a mask on....you must have really wanted to be discreet! Almost like you –" he gasped in false shock, grinning ear to ear. "– Abandoned your clan like a little traitor~! That's fun! I'm all about forging your own path and stuff."

He smirked as he came face to face with my frozen, shaking form. "You abandoned your clan, then came running back to the battlefield to avenge a friend of yours! It would have been noble if it wasn't in vain." He snickered. "Youll die for nothing! How does that make you feel?" He cupped his ear, as though to listen for a response, then cackled. "After a shout like that, you'd be lucky if you could even whisper in the future! I'd expect your vocal cords to be in shreds at this point." He gasped, overcome with an idea. "Ooh, you know what would be even better?! If you went crawling back to your family yourself!"

He grabbed my chin. "I'm in a good mood right about now. So here's how it's going to go. I'll let you walk out of here on your own two feet, so you can stumble on back to that clan of yours and play charades with them until they realize you're their biggest failure of your generation!" He grinned, releasing me and turning toward the pink-haired kid who still stood shocked in the doorway. "Ta-ta now~, better get out of here before I change my mind."

My mind was reeling despite the fact that I couldn't move. This...this curse...had the audacity to tell me to run, with my tail between my legs? To flee, with empty hands, regardless of what more I could do? This thing had the temerity to tell me what to do?

Is that not what I've been trying to avoid my whole life?

~~~

"Incredible," he breathed, astonished. "Youre getting stronger, even if you don't know it." Nanami smiled, sitting on the old swing as I stood in front of him, arms raised as i finished demonstrating an odd move i had come up with and practiced. "Not a lot of people can even comprehend the idea of learning a new cursed technique, yet here you are, creating one of your very own. Impressive work, especially for someone with hardly any formal training."

I grabbed the notepad in my pocket, quickly scrawling a response.

'Its entirely possible that formal training would have suppressed this. If all are taught the general systems, it'll be hard to remain an individual.'

He chuckled. "I guess it's possible. But schooling aside, you really have become something special. Keep honing that skill...keep being you, and I bet you'll one day do something incredible, even if you don't see it. Even now, you found a workaround to vent out your cursed energy without using cursed speech."

I smiled, sitting in the empty swing next to him. I pressed one more folded note into his hand, gently swinging forward and back.

'No matter what I do, and how long we spend apart, you always support me. You give me confidence and let me feel like I can really....do something. And it's something that I want that you always encourage. I never feel forced around you. I suppose I want to say I'm glad you've always stuck by my side. I'm really glad you're my friend.'

Nanami smiled softly then reached over to take my hand, interlacing our fingers.

"Of course. I'm glad you're my friend too."

~~~

I scowled at the curse as he walked away, raising my hands in front of me as I pooled whatever cursed energy I had left into my palms. One hand raised to my eye level, and the other drew back, as though pulling the string of an invisible bow. I could only mouth the words as I conjured my power.

"Cursed technique: toybox."

Toybox: a cursed technique designed and used solely by a forsaken and forgotten member of the Inumaki clan. Playing into the often-overlooked yet highly versatile arsenal of a children's imagination, Toybox allowed its user to concentrate portions of her cursed energy into a physical form, most often taking the shape of a pointed arrowhead or the length of a blade. None could see this "weaponry" aside from the user herself, hence the reference to imagination and childrens' toys.

I took careful aim, seeking to strike the curse at its core. I had one shot at this, and in it, I poured every last bit of power I had left. With a shaky breath and a steady hand, I released the grip that was pulled back, sending the equivalent of a cursed bullet flying at the stitched man.

He was still for a moment, looking down at the sizeable hole in his chest.

His head twisted around unnaturally, only grinning as the wound sealed shut. "Oh dear. I gave you your chance. This simply won't do." He walked back toward me. "You keep distracting me from the person I actually want to kill! And I'm getting tired of wasting my time." He smiled lazily, shrugging. "Buuut, you certainly don't have anything left now. I can tell. You're all out!" He chuckled, as the aftershock of losing so much energy finally hit me like a brick wall.

Almost as if on cue, I clutched my stomach as more blood and bile rose from my throat, and he snickered. With a swift hit to the legs he made my knees buckle, sending me all too quickly to the floor. My head struck tile with a thud, and I'm sure I heard a crack. My vision blurred and my breath hitched, and I couldn't even flinch when his foot sunk into my gut, only drawing forth more blood and vomit.

The man above me sneered. "Youre a pest. And you aren't even worth my time. You were born weak, you lived a coward, and you'll die a failure. Now, instead of dealing with you swiftly like I should have, we're going to find out if it takes longer for you to bleed out, or choke on your own vomit like a wounded dog."

I could only watch as he walked away, gasping, shaking, and unable to move. No matter what I tried, no matter what I wanted to do, I remained still, feeling utterly broken and worthless. My vision was fading, my body beginning to shut down. I heard muffled conversation between the curse and the boy, before it all...stopped.

~~~

My eyes shut tight. Why didn't I feel anything? Why didn't it...hurt? I flinched as I felt a hand on my shoulder, instinctively pulling away and sitting upright. My jaw dropped when I saw him.

"K....Kento...?"

I couldn't believe it. There he was, kneeling in front of me, his blonde hair almost falling in his eyes. He smiled softly, holding out his hand. "...i dont think ive heard you say my name in a long time...did you miss me, by any chance?"

I didn't take his hand, but instead sprung from my spot into his arms, hugging him tightly. My body shook as tears stung my eyes, so many words I never said all rising to the surface.

So much to say, so many questions, so many words, yet the only thing that fell past my lips was, "I'm sorry."

He brushed a strand of hair over my ear, his smile never fading. "Whatever for? I couldn't be prouder of you."

That only caused me to choke on a sob, shaking my head as I buried my face in his chest. "B-but I couldn't fight him...I didn't do anything, I didn't help anyone...." my hands clenched. "I-i failed."

He shook his head, pulling me up to look at him. "My dear, you gave your all to defend a purpose. And I've known you practically our whole lives. Your existence was not in vain...and I can promise that others will agree. I promise, I will never be disappointed in you."

The tears that fell next were of a different kind. "...heh...you always knew how to make me feel better, Ken..."

He smiled, and I paused as I felt his lips press against my forehead. "Of course. Don't you remember? I always do stuff for you." He chuckled, watching my cheeks flush at the memory. I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. Of any possible chance, surely this was the best one I had to say it.

"Kento...you've been...my best friend and my closest ally....our whole lives. My greatest support and beloved confidant..." I whispered, taking his hands. "I love you, Nanami Kento, I always have. I....I know it's far too late to have said anything, and I should have done something better, or-or gone to you sooner, but-"

I was cut off by a calloused hand cupping my cheek, pulling me into the most gentle, loving kiss, like the kind from books that one could only dream for.

He smiled. "Im glad I could hear you say it. It probably would have been awkward if we had to make this exchange with handwritten notes," he chuckled. The off comment made me giggle, and I hugged him again. He simply held me to his chest, wordless, just allowing time to pass.

We spent what felt like hours in each other's arms, exchanging questions and catching up on every detail.

I didn't want to move, didn't want to leave this incredible, impossible moment. Despite the situation, despite what all just happened, I felt...peaceful. Safe. Almost...alive. Nothing else mattered right now.

All of a sudden, i...felt like I was being pulled. As if I was beginning to be torn away from Nanami's arms. He looked down at me, noticing the invisible force.

"Kento, what...what's happening?" I whispered, clinging to him now with more strength.

He...he smiled, brushing back my hair and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "...looks like it's not quite your time yet. You get to keep going."

Fresh tears sprung to my eyes and I shook my head, burying my face in his chest. "N-no, I....I can't...I can't go back...I can't face them...I can't do anything..."

Our embrace was short-lived, and I cried out as I was dragged away.

~~~

"Im getting a response! She's coming back!"

"Easy now, don't overwhelm her."

"Who is she anyway?"

"Im not sure. She's got the marks of the Inumaki, but she doesn't have a sorcerer ID and any other form of identification seems to imply she changed her name."

"Alright, don't interrogate her now, I think she's waking up!"

My eyes squeezed tight, my head was pounding. I heard a lot of voices, too much sound to pay attention to any one thing.

Much as I didn't want to, I opened my eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. I was surrounded by people, unfamiliar faces, their gazes all boring into me. I felt like I wanted to disappear.

A blonde boy looked at the others, standing close to me. "I found her near where Nanami was...i-i mean, I wasn't completely sure if she was going to survive but if there was a chance, it seemed worth trying." He turned to me. "Are you feeling alright?" I shrugged, only able to let out a pained sigh. He nodded. "Yeah, i..I bet. All things considered, you don't look too badly injured per se...a couple of cracked ribs...might have a mild concussion from falling...but most of your state seemed to come from a near total drain of cursed energy. What happened?"

I opened my mouth to speak, tried to do something, anything, but the only noise that came out was a creaky, broken groan. My hands reached to my neck, at this point only trying to make a sound. I hadn't spoken in years, but now that I couldn't? Oh god. The only sound that came from my mouth were shaky gasps and raspy hisses.

The boy nodded. "Considering the state you were in, I wouldn't be shocked if your vocal cords are damaged beyond use...here." he pulled out his phone, then held it out to me with the notes app open. I sat up, taking the device and beginning to type, beginning with telling them my name.

'Nanami was an old friend of mine. I might technically be a sorcerer but I left that behind for personal reasons. I saw the veil around Shibuya, though, and i couldn't bring myself to ignore it, especially after I heard that kid yelling about Gojo. I got there when I could, dispatched the transmutated humans and minor curses that I saw as I ran toward the threat. I found that patched-up...thing standing over him, but I couldn't move fast enough to stop it. I used my cursed speech on him but...its almost like I didn't do anything at all.'

I sighed, handing the phone back to him to read. He nodded, relaying the message to the others; a woman in a white coat with a cigarette, and a man with spiky hair, a goatee, and dark, angled sunglasses. They both looked...vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it at the moment.

The woman frowned. "...an Inumaki girl who was friends with Nanami? I do remember someone like that...she hung out a lot less after a non-sorcerer got badly injured, though. Must've been you." At her words I shrunk into myself, and she nodded as her suspicions were confirmed. "But...you came back. That shows a lot more about you than you realize." She smiled a little, tapping her cigarette. "Takes a lot of courage to do that."

I turned to the boy, reaching out my hand, and he gave me the phone again.

'I never wanted a life like this. If I could've removed my tattoos and just...lived, like a normal person, I absolutely would have. But it's not like I could have ignored a veil that big and an aura that dark.'

I frowned.

'Not like it really mattered anyway. I didn't save anyone, and nearly killed myself in the process. I'm useless. The only thing I did here was cause another casualty.'

The boy read my note and shook his head. "Thats not exactly true. There were remnants of your cursed energy all around that room. Those things all over the place were transmutated humans, bodies crushed and mutilated to that curse's desired form, yet not permitted to die. Your cursed speech laid dozens of suffering, frightened, pained people to rest. It's a hard thing to think about, but...you saved them."

I stared at him, my eyes wide and lip quivering. I...saved them? How could that have been possible, with the image of such gore, such suffering etched into my mind? It doesn't seem right.

"More than that, I sensed your energy that came from something else. It was strong, concentrated. Do you have another cursed technique outside of your speech?" He asked, simple curiosity in his tone. Not accusational, not upset, just wishing to know. At my slight nod he smiled. "Then...you could still help people. Er- if you wanted to, that is. I don't mean to sound like I'm forcing you."

I took his phone and typed another response.

'I don't know yet, if I'm being honest. There's a lot to take in right now. All I ask right now is, if you can, don't tell Toge I'm here. I don't know if he remembers me, but I'm not sure if I can face him.'

As if the curse of fate decided to play yet another cruel joke, I heard a gasp from behind me. A pale-haired boy stared at me, eyes wide. I couldn't see his mouth under the high collar of his jacket, but I could tell exactly who he was. To my surprise he wasn't gawking at the markings on my lips, but looking at me, with a certain level of recognition in his eyes. I couldn't tell quite what emotion he was feeling, nor what he felt about seeing me after so long.

I never wanted to speak more desperately than I did in that moment. He was so...so small when I left. So young. I'm not sure he even knew why I had gone. I opened my mouth to speak, begging and pleading that I could just get one word out.

My lips moved to a silent voice, tears falling down my cheeks. "Toge, I-"

He didn't even let me try to continue, and I felt myself enveloped in the tightest, most caring hug I had gotten in years. A soundless sob shook in my chest as I clung to him with all I had. My mouth moved over and over again, repeating 'I'm sorry' and 'forgive me' endlessly. The man in the sunglasses chuckled. "Looks like someone missed you."

I couldn't believe it. After everything, after all this time, I was simply...welcomed? Forgiven? After my shortcomings, my failures, my pain, I could still...do something? Be something? No one was upset, and instead it seemed they...or at least Toge, was happy to see me. Despite the tragedy, despite all the suffering...it was like I still meant something. This sense of belonging, of support, everyone had everyone's backs, and everyone was working toward a common goal: making the world a safer place.

When toge let go of me, I picked up the phone one more time, typing a final message with a smile. This level of enthusiasm was something I hadn't felt since I was little, and I was almost relieved to have it back again. I handed the device back to its owner, and he read it aloud to the woman and man, each with a knowing smile on their face.

"How do I come back?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fin.

Thanks for reading :]

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