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senditcolton · 1 year

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It’s Just A Question

summary: when a party brings back memories of your past with Jack, it leaves you wondering if there are answers to the questions left lingering between the two of you.

songs: X X word count: 2k warnings: alcohol & apprehension

Your head was spinning.

Not from the drinks you had consumed. Not from twirling around on the makeshift dance floor with Nico. Not from any of that.

No, it was spinning from the fact that every time you hazard a glance over at Jack, you already found his eyes trained to you. And you felt his eyes on you even when you weren’t looking.

It was Halloween. It was the annual New Jersey Devils Halloween party. You were supposed to be having fun. And you wanted to say you were. You danced with Nico, you laughed with Gravy, you even managed to convince Dougie to take a quick lap around his cul-de-sac for trick-or-treating, coming back with a purse full of fun sized candy. But still, Jack’s eyes never left you and after hours… it grew to be too much.

Without saying a word, you slip away from the crowd, silently grabbing your purse from its spot on the table in the foyer before pushing open the door and walking into the chilled October – well, technically November – air.

There was a reason why you couldn’t handle staying a second longer. It was the same reason you were even hesitant about attending in the first place. And that reason wasn’t just Jack Hughes or the Halloween party. It was the combination of the two that killed you. Because being there felt like déjà vu.

Last year. Devil’s Halloween party. Jack’s eyes following you almost the entire night. A few drinks. A dance. A kiss. Your friend’s laughter turning to cheers as the two of you continued to kiss, the rest of the world becoming inconsequential.

And how it ended as swiftly as it began.

You pull your phone from the lining of your bag to order an Uber but sigh in dismay as the screen stays black, the battery drained long ago. You debate going back inside and finding a charger, hiding in a bedroom until your cell had enough juice or pulling Miles away to drive you home since he was your ride here. The choices bounce around in your head until a familiar voice calls out to you.

You spin to find Jack standing in the porchlight, eyes on you once again.

“Hey,” he says, the first words he’s spoken to you all night. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just going to head home,” you explain briefly.

“Oh,” he replies and you try to ignore the little drop in his tone. “Do you need a ride?”

You sigh, weighing your options once more. You did need a ride. But did you need it that badly that you would be willing to suffer through the time it took for Jack to drive you home, the silence heavy with unsaid words.

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say, admitting that his offer was the quickest way to get you home. “If you don’t mind,” you tack on, giving him an opportunity to back out of this. Just in case he realized how fucking awkward it would be and decided to spare the both of you.

No such luck.

“Not a problem. Let me just run and grab my keys,” Jack replies before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the house.

Another deep breath escapes your lungs as you stare at the empty space he used to occupy before spinning back and wandering down the sidewalk, coming to rest against the side of Jack’s car. It isn’t long before Jack is bounding down the path towards you and unlocking door, allowing you to slip into the all too familiar passenger seat.

“You remembered,” Jack muses as he slips into the car, staring the engine, the headlights piercing through the dark night.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just remembered which car is mine,” he fumbles, concentrating a little too intently on pulling out of the makeshift parallel parking outside Nico’s house.

“And?” you ask again, not entirely sure why it was such a big deal for him.

“It’s just been a while.”

“I still hang out with the team enough to know which car is yours, Jacky,” you reply, then cringe when the old nickname falls out of your mouth without warning. Jack is graceful enough to not mention it. Instead, he just shoots a glance back in your direction as he pulls out of the neighborhood, driving down the New Jersey streets on the way back to your apartment.

The drive is quiet, exactly like you expected it to be. And, exactly like you expected, the silence was not a reprieve. Instead, it was suffocating; your efforts to keep your gaze on the passing scenery, the obvious heighted tension in the confined space, Jack’s refusal to not let his eyes land on your frame in the passenger seat every few seconds.

“Eyes on the road,” you mutter under your breath when you catch him looking at you again when stopped at a red light. A sharp exhale of laughter is the only reply you get from Jack as he turns his head back to the street in front of him. It’s quiet until he speaks again.

“Hard to help it when you look as beautiful as you do.”

You hate the way your skin heats up at his words, the compliment laced with more than just friendly praise. Your chest rises in another deep breath as you try to steady your heartbeat. It works for a split second until you feel Jack’s fingers all but innocently caress the side of your thigh.

You know that you could easily jostle your leg, throwing his hand off and that would be the end of it. But as much as you knew how it was going to end if you let it continue, you didn’t care. You missed him enough to let his hand continue to slide across your skin before it settles, his palm setting a fire against your skin and deep within you.

And in the few short remaining minutes, you feel his gaze land on you less than before.

Jack pulls up outside your apartment and you start to hop out before you hear Jack kill the engine, the sound of the driver’s side door closely shortly behind it. You look back at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Let me walk you into your apartment. Just to be safe,” he says and you swear you hear an edge of desperation underneath the suave bravado. Regardless, you give a shrug of your shoulders in some kind of acceptance and let Jack follow you as you unlock your buildings front door.

You feel his presence behind you as you check your small mailbox and even still as you climbed up the carpeted stairs to your third-floor studio apartment. He’s right there as you punch in your keycode and swing open your apartment door. You leave the door ajar, a silent invitation for him to come in, one which he silently accepts before closing the door behind the two of you.

And just like that, it’s as if you two go through the regular motions, as if arriving home together was commonplace. As if being with him was meant to be.

You kick off your shoes by the front door and wander over to your small vanity before removing your rings and placing them in the little trinket dish. In the mirror, you watch as Jack takes off his coat, draping it gently over arm of your couch before walking over to you.

His hands gently bat yours away from the nape of your neck, his fingers deftly unclasping your necklace, arms dropping to set it down on the wood of the vanity. A hand comes to rest delicately on your waist and you can’t stop the shudder that runs through you as your feel his lips press gently against the skin of your shoulder.

You spin in his arms, the tension finally becoming too much. Your hands desperately reach towards his face, grasping at the back of his neck and tangling into his slicked back hair before you are pulling his lips onto your cherry red ones.

Jack gives into the kiss easily, pulling you tighter as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, silently asking for access which you gladly accept, deepening the kiss. He blindly pulls you away from the vanity, walking you across the wooden floors before you feel your mattress hit the back of your legs. You collapse back onto the bed willingly, pulling Jack down with you, the feeling of his body weight on top of you still comforting after all this time.

Jack breaks away from your lips only to trail across your jawline, down to the column of your throat where he lingers for a moment. You relax back into the sheets, the sensation all too familiar and it is easy to get lost in the feeling of him.

But the past finally rears its ugly head, pushing into your brain and taking you out of the moment. You heave a sigh before placing your hands on Jack’s shoulders, pushing him off you and lifting yourself up into a sitting position. Jack takes a step or two back and the two of you stare at each other for a brief moment before you break the silence.

“What the fuck are we doing?”

Jack doesn’t have an answer. Neither do you. So, the question lingers there between you, a phantom haunting whatever history you two shared.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you continue with a sigh.

“I know,” Jack whispers, although in the silence of your apartment, it feels as loud as a gunshot.

“Then why do we keep finding ourselves here?” you ask.

“I don’t know.”

Another pause, the space between the two of you growing further, in all ways but physical.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Jack speaks, breaking the silence again. “What is so wrong about this?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” you reply, drawing out the words in hesitation, “it’s wrong because we know how it’s going to end.”

“And you don’t want it to end,” Jack posits.

“I don’t know if there’s any way to stop it from ending. We’ve tried it before and it’s always lead us here.” You sigh again, picking at your fingernails in anxiety.

“Is there anything I can do to prove that it will be different this time? Hypothetically, of course,” Jack asks again and you can’t stop the chuckle that falls from you at his addendum.

“Perhaps,” you muse, connecting your eyes with his. “If you can answer this question.”

Jack nods and you hate the way your heart leaps at the pure desperation in his eyes, a desire not just for your body but for your trust. The way it was obvious that he wanted to make it up to you.

“When you left the apartment of the girl that you kissed in the middle of a crowded Halloween party dancefloor in front of your friends,” you say, letting the use of these hypotheticals distance yourself from the actuality, “did you regret it? Do you regret not fighting for her?”

You let the question hang there, watch as Jack processes it, watch as he flicks through the memories of that night when you two came crashing down.

It’s a drawn-out moment before Jack looks at you, taking a deep breath before walking back over to you, standing between your legs, his hand cupping your jaw, guiding your face to look up at him.

“I’ve regretted it ever since I closed the door of her third-floor studio walkup that day,” he whispers down to you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. He leans in close to you, ready to capture your lips in his once more. But you stop him again.

“Is it also true that you’ve been seeing someone else?”

“It’s true. A few dates, nothing official. I’ve heard the same about you.” You nod your head gently in concession. “Would it change anything if I said every time I was with her, I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“It might. Considering I felt the same way whenever I was with him. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Of course,” Jack chuckles and you can’t stop the small giggle that escapes you as well before Jack finally swallows your laughter by placing his lips on yours, the hypotheticals melting away into the truth.

Whatever hardships you two had and my have, this was meant to be. You would always find your way back to each other.

#nicole writes #midnights mashups #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes angst #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #not sure how i feel about this one #kind of love it kind of hate it #but i'm still getting over a cold so my head spins if i think too long about it #so here it is

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natsmagi · 8 months

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poltergeist is genuinely so ?#&@?#* bc on one hand we have natsmg being lowkey transphobic towards naru (ntm tsmg implying that women are expected to do the house chores, which naru scolds him for 😭) but on the other hand we also got "wow i have such a capable wife" and confirmation that naru reads one piece bc she said big mama reminded her of madara 😭

ITS SUCH A WILD RIDE ?? theres also an instance i enjoyed where natsume was having a kinda sad moment reflecting on how he didnt really know how to connect with the young boys since he didnt have a normal boy childhood which made me so :(( and then mamas like o ya its bc u were raised as a girl right ?? AND NATSUMES JUST ?!?!?!? HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT ?? AND MAMA DROPS THE BOMBSHELL THAT TSUMUGI JUST. CASUALLY TELLS PEOPLE ???????? IN NORMAL EVERY DAY CONVERSATION ??????????????? to which natsume responded that he would GUT TSUMUGI and BLAME IT ON THE KIDS AND I ?#¤"%&)?"#¤%)/=?#¤%=/?&%& this story was genuinely so much

#kind of love it kind of hate it #if we removed the transphobia it wouldve been so fire #ask

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watchingwisteria · 5 months

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listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded psychopath happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

#seeing some discourse and im not saying lucy grey didnt know #im saying she never dropped the kind of hints that she knew like she did in the movie #or if she did snow isnt worried about them until he very suddenly is consumed by them #snow is not concerned about whether or not she believed him. of course she did! hes snow!#but then shes gone…. for a while……#and its the sudden immediate drastic unravelling that comes across so clearly in the book #that i knew wouldn’t translate to screen yet still cant help but miss #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas #lucy gray baird #not a crime or anything just a note that i cannot stop thinking about #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #this is all from memory of reading it quite a while ago. so maybe 3 pages is an exaggeration #but i remember it happening VERY quickly and without much external cause #like we as the reader have no indication as to whether shes nearby or not.#snow has no idea either. he just SUSPECTS. and his suspicion breeds the hatred that has been bubbling inside him all this time #he hates how she undoes him. he hates that he WOULD run away with her if shed let him keep his secrets #and he HATES more than anything that she makes him WANT to tell his secrets #he wants to be vulnerable and reveal the ugly nasty parts about himself and still be loved #but he does not let himself and it is everyone’s downfall #he chooses cruelty bc it is easy and familiar and makes him feel more powerful than the vulnerable give and take that real love requires

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westywallowing · 3 months

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my favorite scene redraw from S5E13: "Migration"

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanart #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #ml ladybug #luka couffaine #westy doodles #comic #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladybug and chat noir #YEAH SCENE REDRQW #i dunno this is just one of my favorite episodes!! and i love this scene so much #i love how it plays out and i love marinettes expressions #and just wanted to draw it in comic format!#first time drawing luka as well??? howd i do????#also everybody lets PLEASE collectively ignore my gradeschool handwriting okay #i hate fiddling with text adder so i just write and i kind of hate it but we're dealing with it!!#mlb redraws

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egophiliac · 4 months

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Please elaborate on your twst Pokémon headcannons I’m very interested

I had planned on drawing everyone for this (I made a LIST!) but it. hasn't been going well. 💀 soooo here's what I have so far!

Riddle - Roserade (I was going with 'no legendaries', otherwise I would've given him a Shaymin) (and I don't think Togedemaru is actually a hedgehog or I would've given him one of those too) (...they kind of do fit though. hmm.)

Trey - Alcremie (clover/mint cream + strawberry/ruby cream)

Cater - DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD!

Ace - Impidimp (I feel like there's probably a better one for him, but I can't think of it)

Deuce - Scraggy (meanwhile I KNOW deep in my heart that this is true)

Leona - Pyroar (but like. a nasty Pyroar. just a grizzly old Pyroar with the shittiest attitude imaginable. they pretend to hate each other but secretly they are a bonded pair, do not separate)

#art #twisted wonderland #pokemon #poketwst #i'm trying not to pressure myself too much art-wise right now #but i would like to do more of the characters!#(especially considering this started with my insistence that malleus would have a dragapult)#gotta draw something i don't immediately hate first ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ #ANYWAY enough art angst!#i'm not aiming for full teams or delving too deep into lore or anything #just one or two per character that i think fit!#i was pretty torn on leona for a while because pyroar is at once the obvious choice but also. not really?#(i did consider luxray and ultimately decided it doesn't really fit either)#but i kind of love Nasty Lionboy's Nasty Pyroar #i think there's probably some. like. ~royal tradition~ that they all bond with this one specific breeding line or whatever #and leona deliberately chose just the absolute worst one #took one look at this shitty rude pokemon and immediately went 'that one'#falena was like 'are...are you SURE' and leona cops an attitude like 'i'm choosing my OWN pokemon you're not my DAD'#as pyroar is actively attempting to eat him #actually it probably tried to eat kifaji first and that's when leona decided he liked it #me: this is just for funsies i'm not doing lore (writes a whole fanfic in the tags)

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bibxrbie · 1 month

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"Luke Skywalker isn’t like the old Jedi. He saves Vader with his attachments!”

Wrong!

Luke Skywalker, at the end of Return of the Jedi, after his confrontation with the Emperor drags Darth Vader through the destructing Death Star. He’s desperate, knuckles white under the heavy weight of his father’s body, a little boy dragging his dad to safety. He sets Vader down for a moment, to catch his breath or maybe to get a better grip. He goes to grab Vader again, but Vader, uncomfortable and in pain, asks Luke to take off the mask. He wants to see Luke through his eyes instead of the eyes Palpatine built for him. Luke refuses, says that removing the mask is a sure way for Vader to die. Luke doesn’t want Vader dead, he wants Vader alive. Not to hold him accountable for his many evil acts, but for the same reason why Luke Skywalker can’t kill Darth Vader; Vader is his father and Luke loves him.

And yet, after a moment, Luke removes Vader’s mask. He doesn’t want to, he hesitates, but he removes the mask with enough slowness to allow Vader to take it back. In that moment, Luke sets aside his desire for Vader in his life, sets aside his desire to see him live, and sets aside his entire mission, the reason he was even on the Death Star in the place. In his compassion for his father, Luke stays with Vader until he dies. It is this moment where we see him be the best damn Jedi he can be. I’d even argue that this moment is the greatest example of non-attached love we see. Because Luke lets Vader go! He lets his father die, and in some ways, by removing the mask, he too kills Vader, he stays with him until his last moment, gives him the kindness of granting his last wish and finally chooses Vader.

And Luke doesn’t have to do this. If Luke Skywalker’s love for his father was an attachment, he would ignore Vader and continue dragging him to the escape pod, put his desire for a father as his central focus and ignore Vader’s wants and discomfort. Maybe he would even save him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Vader dies.

He builds a Jedi burial for his father and watches it burn the remnants of Vader and Anakin Skywalker away. He mourns Vader, he mourns what they could’ve had as father and son, considers what ifs and maybe-if-I-did-this. Vader/ Anakin is released from his mortal body, from his ‘crude matter’ and Luke lets him go. He says one final goodbye to Anakin. Then, he joins Leia, Han, Chewie, Lando, and the rest of the Rebels and celebrates their victory. He lives in the present and celebrates what he has instead of what he lost.

Luke Skywalker is THE Jedi. Everything about Luke Skywalker serves as the foundational cornerstone of the Jedi, everything about the Jedi as a culture and philosophy is reflected in his character. Luke’s desire for the New Jedi Order isn’t to throw away the values of the old Order, but to vitalise them, breathe life back into dying lungs, and rebuild a path that people set out on their way to destroy. (Yes, his Order is different from the Old, but that’s because it has to be. He doesn’t have the resources or the safety of the Old Order.) The philosophies of the Jedi are difficult and they aren’t for everyone, and like the perfect Jedi that Luke is, he struggles and stumbles and sometimes he even rejects it. But, no matter how far he falls, it is a way of life he chooses again and again and again. It is a way of life that welcomes him back each time

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daftmooncretin · 4 months

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james Tiberius Kirk is pro choice and pro contraceptives just fyi

#i cannot believe this made it into to the episode #this was 1969 #i feel like a lot of people see kirk as this over macho all american chauvinist (william shatners fault)#buts hes actually this bad ass bureaucracy-hating space explorer who makes all his decisions with kindness and equality in mind #and i love him #and obviously this show is flawed and dated because it was made 60 YEARS AGO #anyway kirk is beautiful and i adore him #star trek tos #jim kirk #star trek #spock #tos

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hawnks · 3 months

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Gojo is lonely. Not just in the big, existential sense.

He doesn’t have anyone to tell about his day. He doesn’t have anyone to go try out that new restaurant with. He has so many movies because he has no one to talk to.

#based on my recent observations #I think he would LOVE to just go out for coffee and gossip #who does he have to speak to on a regular basis? shoko? shoko who is so so so busy?#nanami? who kind of hates him #yuuta was right gojo doesn’t have any friends :(#he should be at the club…….

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hairmetal666 · 2 months

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He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.

Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.

And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.

Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.

And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.

"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.

"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.

True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?

"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."

And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.

"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"

Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.

"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."

Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #angst #but not really though?#hate sex #but only kind of?#idiots in love #smut #i really don't know what this is #it just kind of happened #i thought of Eddie listing things he hated about Steve and it all poured out #this is very i hate the way i don't hate you not even close not even a little bit not even at all #it wasn't an intentional 10 things homage

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