Kings 1x11 “Javlin”
so even though my silence indicated it, obviously this account is on a bit of a hiatus. I’m terrible at juggling muses.
forgiveness cannot be:
bullied, bargained, or bought.
it must be earned.
you’re allowed to be hurt.
and he has no right to be angry at you
for wanting space away from him.
but you stay, because fuck him.
you stay, but you don’t talk.
you don’t look at him.
if you do, you might never stop crying.
you are used to being hurt, to being betrayed.
you know what it’s like to have your heart
smashed into tiny little pieces.
but you never thought he’d be the one to do that to you.
nights are the worst;
you miss him.
you miss him and you hate him and you love him,
and all you want are his arms around you.
sleep doesn’t happen, anymore.
the ceiling fan whirls round, tired eyes watching
until tears make it blur.
you miss him, but you can’t forgive him.
he doesn’t mean his apologies.
why weren’t you good enough?
what did you do wrong?
forgiveness takes time:
time to heal, to accept.
it can’t happen overnight.
except when it does.
the realisation that living without him is worse
than anything else is what pushes you;
you almost lose him,
you almost have to live your life without him,
and you can’t do that.
if he’s dead, you’ll have nothing.
and if he dies while you still hate him…
you will never forgive yourself.
you’re still aching, and you still can’t trust him
(you may never be able to trust him
in quite the same way
but it’s so easy to scoop him into your arms,
holding him to your chest
and pressing kisses to his hair.
when you cry,
it’s because you’ve missed him
and because you’ve got him.
you’ve always got him.
they never said the worse would be like this,
but you think you can find better again.
there’s a lot of healing to be done
and trust to be rebuilt,
promises to be made and kept.
but this time
when he says he’s sorry,
you know he means it.
and you can forgive him.
I will always protect my muse.
- I will explain why they did what they did.
- I won’t tolerate any hate on them.
However, that doesn’t mean:
- I will excuse everything they do. I’m aware they are not flawless and they are not supposed to be.
- I will send you (anon) hate, when you dislike them.
congratulations, you were all alone a jack benjamin fanmix
►i.young blood | the naked and famous ►ii.sorrow | the national ►iii. broken crown | mumford and sons ►iv. lover’s eyes | mumford and sons ►v. amsterdam | imagine dragons ►vi. no light no light | florence + the machine ►vii.the weight of lies | the avett brothers ►viii. slow and steady | of monsters and men ►ix. lemonworld | the national ►x. she district sleeps alone tonight | birdy ►xi. acoustic #3 | the goo goo dolls ►xii. one foot | fun.
How It’s Said (substitutes)
In a happy way: laughed, rejoiced, giggled, joked, lilted, sang out.
In a sad way: cried, agonised, bawled, blubbered, lamented, sobbed, groaned, snivelled, wept, mourned.
In a bossy way: insisted, bossed, demanded, preached, dictated, professed, ordered.
In an angry way: raged, miffed, seethed, fumed, retorted, thundered, blurted.
In a pained way: barked, cried out, cried, screamed, jabbered, bellowed, groaned, howled, shrieked, roared, grieved, wailed, yelped.
In a frightened way: quaked, stammered, shuddered, quivered, trembled.
In an understanding way: empathised, accepted, consoled, crooned, comforted, sympathised, agreed.
In a tired way: mumbled, struggled, emitted, wearied.
In a begging way: beseeched, begged, implored, pleaded, entreated, appealed to.
In a mocking way: mocked, ridiculed, derided, hooted, japed, insulted, jeered, parodied, taunted, teased, chaffed, flouted, degraded, sneered, disdained, jibed, gibed, disparaged, belittled, decried, flouted, fleered, leered, scoffed, sniggered, swiped, scorned, repudiated, lampooned.
In a seductive way: purred, simpered, coaxed, wheedled, persuaded, baited.
As an answer: As an answer: responded, retorted, replied, rejoined, answered, acknowledged.
He looks like he hasn’t slept in two days (true). He looks like he’s barely eaten in that time (also true). And, with too-red eyes, he looks like he’s spent a vast majority of the past two days crying (definitely true). TJ doesn’t even know why he’s here, given that he can’t sleep beside Jack, he doesn’t want to talk to Jack, and he’s even staring into his third mug of coffee so he won’t have to look at him.
To say he’s not feeling good would be the understatement of the century. Last time he felt this bad he had also had his heart stomped into little pieces, and that didn’t end well at all.
”I have n o t h i n g to say to you.”
The two of them have certainly seen better days, in terms of both mental and physical health, but Jack isn’t sure if he wants to poke at the fire or let TJ continue to f u e l it. He’s going to fix this, he has to fix this, hell, there’s a marriage certificate he’s not willing to incinerate by not fixing this — right now, however, right now as the words are leaving his lips the former prince isn’t exactly positive he has the will. The energy. The words.
His husband — he has to roll this term around his mouth still, prod it with his tongue, press it against his teeth — is certainly making it clear he doesn’t, either, but — however crystal — Jack knows him better. He should, at least. He assumes.
"— I’m sure you can think of something."