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#and I don’t know how to live with the pain of knowing I can never go back home
sukunas-wife · 2 days
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@krispycupcakepost I’ll probably redo your ask because I ended up melancholic instead of 🤍🤍🤍happy happy happy🤍🤍🤍 but I’m going to post this because I worked hard on it and I hope you guys like it 🤍🥺
7367 words : Fluff:Angst:Comfort it’s the work’s honesty, I cried 1-3 times I was in my feelings 🥺
Warning: Forced marriage mention / Implication of forced pregnancy- just a brief mention, not even that maybe? But I’m putting the warning just in case 🤔 Dramatic Mentions of Sukuna having a snack 💀
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If there was anything that could transcend Time, Pain, Travesty, and hate. It was love.
It’s love that gives some a will to fight, love that inspires others to create unimaginable things, love that transcends ages and can reshape the entire entity of a person. It’s love that sometimes drives a person to live for someone other than themselves.
The way you had cried those years ago when you married your husband after being sold for your Curse Technique. You wanted to marry for love instead you were forced to marry someone who paid for you and you had never met. It was a surprise how happy you could be with him. He was gentle with you, his eyes always held a soft expression when he looked at you. His hand was firm but gentle on your lower back guiding you and keeping you protected by his side when you would accompany him on his outings. That was until the night came when he brought home a “friend”. A shaman. You did your best to stray away from his guest feeling uneasy with just his presence. It raised your skin and left you with a nauseating sensation. You were quick to feature at the moment you could, asking one of the few helpers in the house to tend to them because you were feeling ill. It felt like your afternoon was stretched over days as you waited for your husband to return. Finally the sky faded into night and their voices stopped abruptly. It was quiet for a bit as you sat up expecting your husband’s steps to approach, instead you heard their voice pick up in a short exchange. Then their steps, but they weren’t retreating, they were coming closer until your husband stood in your door, “Y/n, welcome our guest, you may refer to him as Kenjaku.”
—- —- —- —- —-
It was that night that led you to this moment. Your hands running over your stomach, you had a soft smile.
“How are my boys?” You questioned quietly feeling movement and watching as a kick reshaped your stomach briefly. “There’s not much room left for him?” Another kick, “Just a little longer you two, and it’ll be time for you to come.”
That night one of your children had decided he had enough of the squishing and fighting for space. You couldn’t sleep with all the movement and kicking of your stomach. Even your husband who you still wouldn’t allow to touch you as he pleased or speak to you freely and openly as he once did was concerned when he found you looking distressed. Standing outside in the middle of the night, one hand on your lower back the other pressed against your stomach. You could feel him coming before he was near you, “Something’s wrong, one of them isn’t going to make it, or something is happening.” Your husband walked around attempting to put his hand on your stomach. The moment he did all movement stopped, it was always like that. You assumed it was because your children shared your disdain of your husband placing his hands on your stomach. In order to deter him they would stop moving entirely. That wasn’t the case this time, instead they became aggressive, you saw how under the skin two feet were showing kicking repeatedly, it hurt you more this time than any other. You pushed his hand off and the kicking stopped, you could feel slight movement and it stopped. “Nothing is wrong, they seem just as lively as they did before.” You shook your head, “No, something’s wrong, my boys don’t act like that.” Your husband rolled his eyes “and how would you know that?” “BECAUSE I'M THEIR MOTHER.” You snapped at him, “I'M THE ONE WITH THEM, THEY LIVE IN ME, I KNOW HOW IT FEEL TO HAVE THEM BOTH, I KNOW WHEN THEY'RE CONTENT OR DISTRESSED THERES A REASON THEY DON'T KICK WHEN YOU COME AROUND SO WHY WOULD THEY NOW THEY DON'T MOVE THIS MUCH I KNOW SOMETHINGS WRONG YOU WOULDN'T KNOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD SO FAR UP THAT SHAMANS ASS YOU CAN'T THIN OR SEE WHEN SOMETHINGS WRONG.” You turned and did your best to get away from him, your time would be up soon, and you knew if there was anything you would hold onto it would be your boys. But the aching feeling in your gut left you unsure of something else. Would they be okay?
—- —- —- —- —-
In and out, the fading of black from the pain as you finally pushed the nurses off of you. You had to get up, you could lay down for this. You felt like the pain was breaking into your ribs threatening to squeeze your heart and snap your spine the longer they tried to hold you down. Your gasps and struggling cries stopped when you were barely managing to stand on weak legs, “my mother.” You tried to swat away a nurse, “BRING HER.” Your mother was a kind woman who protested against your father selling you off, but being his wife she had no say in his actions. She had arrived to be there with you in your moments but the nurses wouldn’t let her in, even now as you turned, screaming at them and raising your hand against one who had put you through hell the last hours, they finally ran to bring in your mother.
She was the woman in your village who was more experienced in assisting in birth, the reason she really wanted to be by your side. She was there quickly, yelling at the nurses for this and that, looking at your state she knew you’d have to birth another way. She brought you to a tub of warm water where you’d have to stand between a squat and kneel. There is no doubt in her mind that if they would have forced you to lay down any longer at birth you wouldn’t have made it, much less your child.
Yet here you are, holding your child tight to your chest and crying your heart out. You didn’t tell your mother you were supposed to have twins, but the silence that fell over the room where you passed your after birth and there was no second child was unsettling leaving your mom perplexed as to why you were crying so hard. “What wrong y/n,” her voice was cautious as she took your child to help you out of the water that was becoming cold. Clothing yourself haphazardly you brought your freshly bundled child with you and your mother to your private chambers and told her everything.
The way you held your child was obvious, you held no resentment against him for the acts of his father, how could someone so small, fragile and innocent be held accountable for the monstrous actions of a man with no humanity.
His little head of pink hair, little fists and pout. Your tears welling up as you brought him closer to kiss his face. Your mother watched on with a melancholy smile, your heart was torn in two without doubt, you loved your child, but you could never again love his father. The tears in her eyes full of sentiment of how she was happy you could find solace in one person in your life. “You will always have a home with me as long as I live y/n, if you need anything or help you know where you can always find me.” Her soft smile eased your troubles lightly, but you knew your distress would rise when your husband and that shaman would come again.
—- —- —- —- —-
“My sweet boy,” you kissed your son's face repeatedly, “Yes you are my sweet boy.” He cooed up at you as you cradled him in your arms walking through the small garden letting him feel the sun. “Oh you’re so happy today, look at your little red eyes they’re just shining like rubies. My pretty little boy, my heaven, my heart, my love.” He cooed louder as one of his hands grazed your face from how close you held him up, kissing his cheek. His coo’s fell silent and his eyes fell to the side with a displeased look. You turned and saw him, the shaman standing under a tree a distance away. You looked at your son, his eyes lingered longer in that direction before they turned to you. He let out a single “eehhh” before he turned his head away in the opposing direction. You hummed, if he was anything it was expressing, smiling at your son you moved him around resting him against your shoulder and chest making sure the small blankets you wrapped him in didn’t come undone. He squirmed in your hold until you placed a hand on his head reassuring his head on your shoulder and he stilled. A single hand taking a tight hold of your robes, a silent plea, ‘don’t let me go’
You kissed the top of his head, “I’ll never let you go, my little Ryo, as long as I’m alive you will always have a home.”
His little eyes closed, his hold on you never faltered even after you made it into your private Chambers. He didn’t let go even after waking up, your husband and his father walked into your room. You didn’t spare a second glance, your son lazily opened his eyes to look at him, closing his eyes once he saw it was the man you avoided constantly. A face scarce in his life.
“How is he?” Your chest rumbled under him, “He’s perfect, he eats well, sleeps perfectly, doesn’t cry at night, he’s expressive, there’s no doubt he’ll be superior to his father.” Your husband sighed, “Y/n..” you didn’t look, “Husband.” The conversation ended there, even if he said your name in a warning tone you didn’t give a damn, he couldn’t hurt you or your child. The Queen of Binding Vows, if he or the shaman laid a malicious hand on your Child it meant you’d give your life for your child’s assuring he and the shaman would die should either of them act. The second was if either of them were to have part in your death you’d sacrifice your humanity and after life to become a curse over your child to assure even after your passing he would never be alone in this world.
You made your husband and that shaman well aware of the first vow, but not the second one. You wanted them to suffer if they raised a hand against you or your child and you would assure it one way or another.
—- —- —- —- —-
You were content sitting on a stone bench outside under the sun having tea with a friend, a woman with pale skin, brown eyes, her hair was white. She was kind to you the day you met her, going out on your own to buy clothes for Ryomen. He was growing fast, you turned your head and she followed your stare, your pink haired brat was smiling maliciously while cornering an emperor's butterfly. You smiled seeing his eye light up when he managed to cage it between his hands quickly tucking it away into a clear jar he had been running around with. There’s no telling what else he had thrown into that jar. He was six, you would know soon if he had a cursed technique. You turned back to your friend with a smile, “Your child is due any day now isn't it?” She smiled, placing a hand on her stomach, “It is, Uraume seems like a suitable name. My husband is sure that girl or boy it’ll take after him in hair. He persists that even if we both have white hair there's no doubt it’ll manage to take the red patch of hair he has.” You smiled, “The same with my little Ryo, pulled everything from his father’s side and I’m the one who had to carry him around.” She laughed as Ryomen came running up to you standing in front of your legs before he laid his upper body and head on your lap. His arms were spread out over both sides of your legs and you smiled down at him, your hands scratching lightly at his scalp brushing his hair back and out of his sweaty face. He huffed, closing his eyes, letting you scratch at his head, “You're going to meet your little friend Uraume soon, Ryo.” He opened an eye to look up at you with a slight pout, “but you said I was the baby.” You smiled leaning over to pull him up to sit in your lap, “I said you were my baby and you always will be” kissing the side of his face he closed his eyes with a small laugh, “Your Auntie here is having her baby.” He leaned back against your chest looking at her with a faint smile, she was always smiling at him when he would look at her. “What are you gonna call it?” He kicked his feet looking down at his Yukata that was dirty from running around. “Uraume, it’s perfect for the season.” Your friend's voice was soft as she spoke looking at your little blessing, the same child known to be called the cursed child, the fallen one. There was a wave of grief in her heart, everyone knew the story of your child, how he ate his twin brother in the womb, how he’s the offspring mix of a man and curses dna planted into your womb. That shameless shaman did nothing to keep any of it concealed.
“Oh…” You let Ryomen go as he squirmed in your hold, “I wanna get something.” He landed on the ground with a thud and started to run off to where he was before, you watched him, heart squeezing at the smile on his face, he looked happy, he was happy. “How’s your husband, I know it’s a difficult situation…” you nodded at your friend’s question before answering “I told him if he wanted a heir he wanted to bond with to find another wife because I would never let him touch me or Ryomen, I also expressed that if he brought another woman into this house he would be paying for me to live in another location with Ryo. He’s so young he understands, since the womb it’s like he detested his father's presence. As a baby he’d open his eyes to look at him and close them once he saw who he was. He’s never called for him or asked about him. Even the few times I ask if he wants to go with his father he’ll hold onto me tight and refuse to let go. I’d say it’s obvious how he feels about him. As for my husband, aside from coming home from work all he does is sit and drink in the foyer. He never drinks himself under, but he’s not drinking just to enjoy it either. Everyday I beg that it’s his conscience weighing down on him heavier with every year that passes. His family lineage won’t end here I know that much.”
She nodded, patting her stomach, it thrummed under her hand, “I see.”
“I GOT YOU A BUG” Ryomen came running back with the lidded glass jar, Inside was the monarch butterfly and a cocoon on a stick. You took the jar from him and set it on the table, “It’s beautiful Ryo, I Love it.” He stood there proud, his chest puffed out. “Come sit down, you look like you could use a sweet.” He perked up more with a smile rushing to climb onto the bench next to you peeking over the table to see what he could eat.
—- —- —- —- —-
It wasn’t long until Ryomen's 7th birthday, you were excited, even thoughtful, of maybe, possibly letting your husband congratulate Ryomen if he had a technique. Said child was currently curled up to your chest sleeping, holding onto a little tiger plush you had given him for his last birthday. That was until he started whining in his sleep as shuffling around. Thinking it was a nightmare you sat up pulling him into your lap coddling him and pulling his robes open for the cool night air to hit his burning skin. He pressed his head against your neck and you could feel the hot tears as he let out a small cry squirming and curling in on himself. You rubbed your hand up and down his back, “Ryo, are you okay? Ryo,” you kept calling his name quietly as he cried, doing your best to cradle him and rock him. He cried squirming more and it wasn’t until you heard the horrid sounds of bones cracking and he let out louder cries against your neck his little hands letting his tiger fall as his small nails dug into your skin and robe. You held him tighter in panic standing up and trying to get an idea of what you should do, he threw himself back in your arms, back arching and you could see mounds forming under his arms on the sides of his ribs. “That damn curse hurting my son long after.” You rushed around your room calling for a servant ordering an ice bath as you wrapped him in a thin sheet rushing to the bathroom. He cried louder against you and you looked at him, dark marks forming over his skin, and you watched pained as the skin on his sides started to stretch. Your heart and brain were begging one another to make sense of the situation, an ice bath to numb the pain, but you didn’t want to let him go, you couldn’t even if you wanted to with the way he was holding on to you. You stood there doing your best to comfort him in his screams of agony to the point he bit into your shoulder from trying to not scream and resist the pain. The servant tried to take him from you, you told her no and sat both yourself and Ryomen in the cold water. He laid against your chest crying and screaming, as you swaddled his arms in the thin sheet to keep him from thrashing around. You sank down to hold both of you to neck level, your bones were shivering as his cries quieted down to whimpers, his tears were still hot against your skin and he could only gasp and cry out silently. One arm wrapped around him to hold him steady, the other on the back of his head to keep his head steady, you kissed his head and he’d cry. You had to close your eyes when his back arched one last time and red seeped through the thin sheet into the water, you leaned your head back letting out a silent breath as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. “Please,” your voice cracked and your own tears started to fall, your nose starting to become stuffy as you cried in silent distress, “Please don’t take him from me.” You held your breath when he stilled against you, his head knocking against your collar bone, you closed your eyes preparing for the worst, only to see tears in his eyes. Newly formed slits under his eyes, opened revealing a second set of red iris. Black marks on his face started to solidify creating intricate design. You slowly started to get up, being careful not to shake your son around as you started your walk to his room to get him into dried clothes.
It was there when you slowly started to unwrap the linen you saw the new set of arms that were wrapped around his body. You could see clearly where the skin had torn and healed on its own. Your hands grazed his skin carefully and the black marks that were permanently part of his skin. He was born a cursed child, but over everything he was your child and you would love him endlessly. You smiled and leaned over kissing his forehead as his eyes opened, he looked tired as he looked up at you with glossy eyes. A hand reaching up for you. You took his smaller hand in yours squeezing it, “I’m just going to get you new clothes, I won’t leave you okay.” He nodded, his hand slipping from yours. His head fell to the side and he laid there staring off at whatever was in his room, “mommy..” you turned to look back at him over your shoulder. He was just laying there, he wasn’t looking at you, “I love you.” Your worry softened, “I love you Ryo.”
—- —- —- —- —-
“Aw you’re the cutest little thing.” You cooed at your son, he was leaning away from your kisses as you squeezed him and smothered him in love, “stoppp your going to mess up my hair” he pouted running his hands through his hair he second set of arms in fists resting against his hips in such a manner.
You hummed, turning your back to him and crossing your arms , “Fine then, when you look for me I won’t be there when you need me.” He scoffed, eyes falling the edge of his eyes in a bored expression as he tilted his head. “I’m not a baby to fall for your tricks mom.” He turned to look at you to see you had already started to walk away, he pouted and ran after grumbling some as he pulled your arm free wrapping it over his shoulders, “You’re such a dramatic woman.” You hummed not looking at him, he stared up at you as you both kept walking, “I have the feeling that’s the only thing you pulled from me.” Flicking your head to the side you didn’t look at him as he leaned into your side walking with you to who knows where. “Where’s your husband?” Your eyes scanned over the house, “I’m not sure and I’m not interested either.” He hummed with a smile until you both made it outside. The land was covered in snow, tree blossoms vibrant against the pale snow. “Your birthday is coming soon, how should we celebrate?” He slipped from under your arm wandering off into the snow, it crunched under his steps as he walked around to a blossomed tree, you watched, his face was pensive as he acted on muscle memory snapping a tree branch and bringing it back to you. He laid it on the table where you would usually sit with tea and talk to him about whatever he asked. Advice on his technique explaining your own abilities and hoping to help him understand. He walked back, branch in hand, before he stood in front of you, at fifteen he was at your height, you knew he’d be much taller once he fully matured. “I want to go to that place that sells the meat by the plate.” You hummed, “We can do that.” He had a faint smile with slightly upturned eyebrows, he offered you a single blossom and you took it before looking at him and placing it in his hair. He huffed with a pout not resisting your strange displays of affection before you pulled him into a hug kissing his forehead on the mark permanently etched into his skin “My baby.” He smiled as he hugged you back. Closing his eyes he could see the days where he was small and he laid in your chest under the sun.
He remembered clearly as a baby laid in your arms under the sun. The words you’d say, the look on your face, he remembered you saying with you he would always have a home. The warmth of the sun was almost comparable to the warmth of your love. He opened his eyes and it felt like time had passed so fast, his heart ached, fifteen years with you, and it was evident time did not discriminate. He held your tighter tears forming in his eyes, you held him tighter, if there was anything you had learned, it was that you wouldn’t let him go from a hug unless he let go first. It was these moments that made your heart tender. His moments of vulnerability that he would never show. You made sure to hold on extra tight, wiping away his tears and snot, letting him have his time to know everything will be alright. “Promise me you won’t ever leave me alone.” His voice was a broken whisper. He didn’t know it, but at that moment he would be cursing you unintentionally. Your hand on the back of his head, the other rubbing up and down his back. “Ryo,” your voice was soft.
—- —- —- —- —-
You sat alone on that hilltop you had always admired, leaned back and over on a table. One leg crossed over the other as your sighed eyes closed. The sun’s heat bearing down on you as you sipped from your tea. The wind whirled the trees around you, leaves rustling with the symphony or birds. You smiled to yourself, it felt like you were at peace once again. That was until you heard the heavy steps of your son approaching, you sighed placing your tea cup down and turning to him. He wasn’t exactly your little boy anymore. But in your eyes that cheesy smile and small heheh never failed to remind you he was your baby. Before you could speak he sat himself down by the legs of your chair, head leaning back in your lap the same way from when he was ten. The smile reached his eyes when he’d smile sheepishly. There you were brushing his hair back with your fingers, “How’s my baby boy been?” He’d look ahead at the sky or the tree line and ramble on about the day and its events, possible crimes he had committed, or how he was pushing the limit of his technique attempting to find a way to push his domain beyond limits, for it to become limitless.
You knew one day he had accomplished his goal when he had taken on another form. His face changed to make the right side of his face more prominent with a peculiar plate on it, the eyes becoming more prominent. The marking on his body changed also. There was no denying he had doubled in mass, your baby wasn’t a baby, he hadn’t been for a long time.
Still, even when you had heard him referred to as the fallen one. You looked past it all, you knew he was created and born to commit unspeakable acts. But your love for your child was unconditional. Especially when he would come home happy to see you with that boyish grin he had grown up with. You got to see the humanity in him, his expressive side and how he cared for you the older you got. You were his mother, who he loved dearly. The one who raised him, nurtured him, held him in the dark night when night mares would wake him in tears. The one to pick him when he’d fall, wipe his tears away when they began to fall. Brush his hair back and out of the way of his eyes. The one to rub his back and stay up in the night when he’d become sick. You were his mother and you cared for him even after everything his father had done to you, you cared for him and loved him. He saw it fit that he would return that love and care as long as the days stretched.
“Ryomen,” you called him over standing up from your chair with a stretch. He walked over to you from where he was judging Uraume’s cooking. “Let me show you something you might find useful later in life.” You had piqued his interest, “What is it?” You smiled at him, “I’m sure you’ve heard of it but it’ll be better if I explain to you about binding vows.”
—- —- —- —- —-
It was well into your years, you had aged with grace. Your hair had grown long, but you had grown tired of keeping it for all this time. Sukuna had seen the melancholy expression you wore. When he asked why you seemed so sad you expressed how you would need to cut your hair because you felt like you couldn’t keep up with it.
It was then every morning with his four arms, he would use his lightest touch to tend to your hair, brushing it back in the same way you once brushed his. At night he would braid your hair to keep it from tangling and becoming a mess in your way as you slept.
When you expressed your disliking for certain food that caused you to bloat and your stomach to ache, he would have Uraume assure he wouldn’t prepare it again. Finding a substitute that would be gentle on your stomach.
Of Course when winter came and you’d persist he walked on his own in the snow despite your love of the blossoms in the snow he became concerned. He held a hand to you, you gave him a sympathetic look that he would’ve taken as rejection if you hadn’t stepped down the stairs to walk beside him.
His sad eyes followed you as you talked about the blossoms, “Look at that, I suppose it’s time we retire that tree, it seems it won’t blossom again this spring.” You stopped under a tree that was bare, its bark slowly peeling away. You reached a hand up touching one of its branches, it snapped and crumbled under your hand. Your smile was melancholic in your son's eyes. M He knew the day would come when he would have to part ways with you. In his desperation one night he acted in a way even Uraume had advised him against.
He went to visit the Shaman.
—- —- —- —- —-
The night was long as you laid awake with an unsure feeling. The night was unbearable in its heat for it being the cold season. You sat up aggravated, shaking all the blankets off of you. Getting up and moving to a chair in your room you sat there fanning yourself with an embroidered Fan Ryomen had brought you one day. You were restless the entire night, unable to sleep until sunrise when you had left your room coming across Uraume who looked solem. They let you know that Ryomen had left late last night and they weren’t sure where he was going but he advised him to stay with you. That being so you decided you’d like a day to the market, Uraume accompanied you speaking idly with you as you both looked around. “Do you know where he went, Uraume?” Uraume sighed and bowed his head, “I’m not actually sure where Lord Sukuna went. I just knew, when he told me to stay, it wouldn't be for the best whatever he could be doing.”
Uraume was right, after being out all day and returning home you found your son outside in the snow. You watched as the tree’s branches that were crumbling were cut away by his technique. He turned to you holding out a branch that seemed to be blooming with life and pink magnolias. “It will bloom again, all it needs is a little help.” It was a strange sight seeing your big four armed two faced baby boy kneeling by a tree wrapping it with care where he had inserted new branches to give it life. You smiled walking closer, placing your hand on his back, “It will look beautiful Ryo, but it won’t be the same as before.” Rubbing circles on his back he hummed, tying off the last bit of fabric, “Its roots will always be the same no matter how much time passes it knows where it comes from. But, with time everything you see will change from what it once was to something new and different from what it once was.”
His stare hardened on the tree, “You’re not talking about the tree…” his voice had a melancholic waver to it. Your hand rested on his shoulder giving it a squeeze. “If I could help you… would you let me…?” You watched the side of his face, his eyes flickering to be downcast. You stood there in silence, he knew the answer. When he threw away his humanity to become something more, you had become distraught over him. Fretting and worrying to the point that he almost regrets his decision. But now, he didn’t regret throwing away his humanity because of your worry. He regrets it knowing now you’ll leave him alone one day, with no home, and no love. He was your boy, and you loved him, but you knew the time would come when he would be alone in this world to make his own way entirely.
That night when you sat outside on that cold stone bench under the scarce blossoms, you looked up at the stars. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall as you smiled. The cold air biting at your skin made your complexion soft. Uraume was wary of serving you the tea Sukuna had given to be prepared. Yet there stood Uraume placing the cup in front of you with a solemn look. “Is something wrong, Uraume?” Uraume hummed, setting down a few extra things, “I’m not sure entirely.” You motioned for them to sit, they sat. Uraume brought a cup for themself. They wanted to know what was so special about it.
—- —- —- —- —-
Time had passed, you noticed the improvements in your being even as your age progressed. It had you questioning why or more specifically what Sukuna had done. Making your way to the small ball age at the base of the mountain was a mistake. It was then you heard the words being said about your son. Words you knew to be true, you kept to your business looking to see if you could catch sight of him anywhere. Nowhere. You continued to tend to your own business until you ran into someone familiar, Uraume’s mother. She wasn’t the woman you knew before, instead she was the hallowed remains of who she once was. She was hanging by a post, more dead than alive. The sign stated, “All those proven to be an accomplice or in support of Ryomen Sukuna will be tied to the post and left for death to consume them.” The fear had your heart racing as you looked on, her eyes were dead and grey, her head moved slightly in its position, as if she were nodding off between death and life.
“It’s a shame there are humans supporting the curse that’s written to plague and end humanity.” You looked at the man beside you, he was staring at the scene. “The rumour is his mother is still alive and she’s just as ugly a character as he is.”
You wanted to say something but it felt like the words wouldn’t leave you. You sighed looking down causing the man to look at you in interest with a smile.
—- —- —- —- —-
Sukuna was entering the town, shaman and Uraume in tow. He had been communicating with the Shaman about certain things and how to accomplish certain actions.
It was odd when they arrived and the city was quiet. Curiosity had piqued both the Shaman and Sukuna’s interest. In silence they ventured further, until they heard the commotion. “KILL HER SHE DESERVES TO DIE!” An older woman’s voice. “HANG HER LIKE THE LAST WOMAN SHE DESERVES TO SUFFER THE WAY WE HAVE.” “YOU'LL BURN IN HELL FOR THE HELL YOU'VE BROUGHT ON THIS EARTH.” The trio stopped seeing who it was.
You were strung up on a post, arms tied behind you around that post. Your feet kicking to hold your weight up, the blood that was pouring out of your mouth matching the red, purple and dark marks littered on your skin where your robes had been torn, your laugh was as sick as the malicious smile on your face, “All of you,” your back arched as you forced yourself to breathe, “Remember this face,” in arching your back your head tilted to the side as you sputtered out blood, “Because I’ll curse every single one of you for generations and I’ll make you all suffer.” Your feet slipping against the post your weight dropped pulling at the flesh of your shoulders. You were bound to die soon, you wouldn’t suffer like Uraume’s mother who laid on the floor finally dead after they cut her down.
Your head dropped, feeling a stab between your shoulders.
Sukuna could see the brief flicker of sadness in your eyes, you didn't lift your head but he could see the tears slowly started to run. Sukuna could kill them all… he could.. kill them.. all
He was there, in front of you covered in blood. It happened so fast, he was looking up at you, you smiled at him, your eyes softened but the tears didn’t stop. “Ryomen.” Your voice was cheerful despite being near death, infront you wasn’t the 2 faced 4 armed man the world knew as a monster.
In Front of you was your 12 yo boy who was crying reaching up to you for you to hold him and wipe away his tears after some adventure of his went wrong.
Only this time you couldn’t wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes, “…mama…” His voice was just as vulnerable and small as the day he first called out for you. His arms coming up to hold you as he freed you, “You can’t leave me.” You stood there on weak legs, you were tired. He was knelt in front of you, guiding his head to your chest he laid there, his tears falling silently, you placed one of your hands on his head, the other gently rubbing his back, “My little boy is all grown up,” you kissed the top of his head hugging him the best you could, “Remember what I told you, the things you see will change, but your roots will always be the same.” He was trembling in your hold, “aw, my little Ryo.” Resting your head on his as you fell against him to your own knees, “I love you my sweet boy, but it’s time for you to go on your own now.” Your tears hadn’t stopped falling, Ryomen’s tears began to mimic your own. “You can’t leave me…” His voice was soft but it wouldn’t stall your death.
There you fell against him, lifeless eyes with a melancholic smile. It was then that Uraume and Kenjaku approached. Uraume carefully pulled your body from his hands, they would give you a proper burial. Sukuna stood, Kenjaku was amused by the entire situation, “You should alert your father. I'm sure he deserves to know his wife has passed. But now that it’s settled and there’s nothing left to detain you, I’m sure you’ll agree to my plan now won’t you?”
—- —- —- —- —-
500 years had passed, Sukuna everyday had grown to live for himself more and more. Every spring he’d see that tree blossom, and think of your burial under it. You never told him you’d be with him forever, but he begged you to stay and you never did.
He was living in his tyranny, he was unstoppable. Today has been 513 years since you passed, your death was no longer as tragic as it was five centuries ago, but on occasion his thoughts would linger on the memories of laying his head on your lap. When he had fought you over not wanting to shower so you dunked him like a cat and he screamed like you were murdering him. He remembered the night his body had changed, and you held him tight, all that night not once had he seen his father. He remembers when you would make him mad and you’d ask him for a kiss he’d deny it with an angry pout only to be pulled into your hug for you to kiss him all over. He remembered laughing in your hold, how ok his birthdays you’d do anything to make sure he was happy. From taking him to that place that would feed him all he could eat, to letting him choose the colours of his own Yukata. He remembers when you would pick him up throwing him into the air and he’d smile feeling like he would always be this happy. Even when his blood thirst first began he remembered how you would scold him for coming home bruised or wounded, yelling at him and trying to teach him reverse curse technique. He remembers the day you taught him about binding vows, and how he should never trust anyone to make a vow unless he knows the true intentions of that person. You taught him to look for the fine details and loopholes in every technique recorded you could find. He remembered holding your hand, when he was small, and it felt like you would always be there to guide him, to hold his hand and smile at him with those soft eyes, calling him name back home when he would stray too far.
His melancholic attitude was inevitable, and sadly it was the day his vulnerability would be taken advantage of. He was ambushed by sorcerers, and it was as if it triggered something. An Onryo stood behind him, double his size, her eyes were wrapped in bandages, her hair was long and untamed, her nails was grown out into claws and her white yukata was closed tight, taking the sword form her mouth her back arched and she let out a terrifying scream, it was as if she multiple voices. “DONT TOUCH MY SON.” It was the swing of her sword that cut down half of the sorcerers standing and cutting through the earth's surface itself. Even then they held up a good battle, but his fate was sealed.
There was a brief moment in his innate domain where he came face to face with his mother. She smiled at him, “Look at my little Tyrant, all grown up.” He looked at you in disbelief before you remembered something, “SO HELP ME RYOMEN SUKUNA IF YOU LET THAT WOMAN WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND AND HOLDING ON TO YOU NAKED I WILL COME BACK AND TAKE YOU OUT OF THIS WORLD MYSELF HAVE SOME SELF RESPECT I SHOULD GIVE YOU A GOOD ONE RIGHT NOW FOR NOT PUSHING HER OFF OF YOU QU-“ You were cut off as he hugged you. He was no longer in his true form, rather changed to be smaller with two arms and a normal face. You sighed with a smile, placing a hand on his head, never failing to rub his back in comfort, “I missed you too you big man child.” He scoffed but didn’t let go, “You didn’t leave me.” You laughed, “It’s funny now, but how could I when you basically cursed me with your crying and don’t leave me mama.” You mocked him and he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let go.
“Well it might be a while before I see you again, so let me lend to you my special abilities. A way to create an open domain, a move known as the world slash, and my cursed energy. I’ll be here when you need me.” You kissed the top of his head one final time and he nodded. It was quiet when he mumbled the words “I love you mama…” you smiled at him and you could feel his conscious fading with the colours of this world, “I love you too my little Ryo.”
-
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Tags: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @domainofmarie
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makeste · 17 hours
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BnHA Chapter 424: Detroit Tears
Previously on BnHA: You know what, fandom is way too heated about this still so we’re just going to leave that be that for now and not get involved. I have some conflicted feelings about it, but this is not the place or time. This is a happy post.
Today on BnHA: Oh right, Horikoshi still owns the rights to my soul. And I’ve just been reminded of why I willingly signed them over to him so freely.
Quick heads up that this isn’t going to be my usual style of chapter reaction post, in that it’s really just going to be a ton of rambling about That One Scene. Partly because I’m only halfway caught up with stuff, but mostly because tbh, this is the only thing that matters to me right at this moment.
Also this is your friendly neighborhood spoiler warning that I’m posting about a chapter which hasn’t officially been released yet! So proceed at your own discretion. This reaction is based on @pikahlua’s excellent spoiler translation writeup here. I’ve officially lost all of my fucks about spoilers and it’s extremely liberating.
I’m glad that Kacchan’s arm isn’t just magically better and that he’s never going to be 100% again. and also that the doctor mentions him needing to rest his heart as well. because I did feel like there needed to be at least a few lasting consequences from him LITERALLY DYING AND UNDERGOING OPEN-HEART SURGERY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATTLEFIELD. but I’m also glad they established that it wasn’t career-ending or anything. he’ll probably have some chronic pain and occasionally aggravate his old injuries while fighting, all of which is great for angst purposes. but it was good to see him being calmly accepting of that while also being determined to put the work in to rehab it as much as possible.
also enjoyed the doctor summing up Kacchan’s highly improbable main character resurrection and subsequent antics as basically being some wild bullshit that nobody can explain. lampshaded the shit out of it. “I don’t really understand” lol. nobody understands. in truth it’s that his secondary quirk is bending reality to his will in order to kick ass.
moving on to the main event now! so Kacchan and Izuku’s reunion was obviously the highlight of this chapter and of my life, probably. I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like it wasn’t. y’all know how it is.
what really made this scene for me was Kacchan being more upset at Izuku’s loss than Izuku himself. all those callbacks and all that guilt. that careful selection of flashback panels. the fact that Kacchan’s past bullying of the quirkless Izuku wasn’t glossed over or forgotten, and in fact is the emotional core that fuels Kacchan’s reaction here. Horikoshi didn't have to cut that deep, but he knows what he's about.
and then the crying. I need to write a lot of words about this right the fuck now. first off, having Kacchan just flat out sob while Izuku for once is the calm one (at least until All Might goes in for the emotional kill later on), is such a beautiful reversal and really shows how far they’ve come. even better is that none of it was even remotely out of character. I’m always appreciative when an author can produce top tier emotional hurt/comfort like this and have it feel earned and authentic rather than forced. well done.
also, “Na--cchan!!” fuck yeah Izuku. we’ll never let him live this down. (but also, him later trying to reconcile his forever-tough image of Kacchan with the crying, hiccupping version standing in front of him, by blaming it on Kacchan’s weakened physical state... oh, Izuku.)
also the fact that Kacchan so easily reverts to this smol crying boy even after defeating the world’s greatest evil pretty much activated every protective instinct that I have. he’s seventeen. he’s practically a man now. he’s objectively one of the strongest and toughest people in the entire world. and yet his eyes still go so wide and his face is still so young and Horikoshi still draws him so tiny and vulnerable whenever he’s like this. goddamn gets me EVERY single time. let’s be real, it’s been this way ever since the “you looked like you needed saving” scene back in the literal first chapter. just, omg. he’s still just a kid and he’s too small to contain all these feelings SOMEONE HELP HIM.
anyway so NEEDLESS TO SAY, Kacchan full on mourning in between sobs because he wanted to keep being rivals with Izuku cut me to my core. I cried too, goddammit. because in Katsuki’s mind it’s like. he wasted a dozen years of potential friendship by being a giant asshole. and they were only able to start getting things back on track less than a year ago. and that was probably the best year of both of their lives. and that rivalry meant so much to both of them. pursuing their dreams together as equals. and he wanted it to continue!! he missed out on so much, and it was his own damn fault, and now it’s all being taken away again maybe!!
and I think it’s especially devastating to Katsuki because he was trying so hard to make up for how he treated Izuku, and then this comes along and now he’s worried it was all for nothing. he’s scared that Izuku will maybe have to quit being a hero. (we know that won’t happen, obviously, but Katsuki is living this and not just reading it. he’s never met narrator!Deku and doesn’t have the benefit of all that foreshadowing and stuff.) but even more than that, I think he’s scared that it will undo all of their progress toward mending their relationship. not because Katsuki thinks any less of Izuku now, quirk or no quirk; but because of how Izuku might feel about being quirkless again, and because of the memories it might bring flooding back to the surface. I don’t think Katsuki fully believes that Izuku has forgiven him. so that’s a major fear potentially rearing its ugly head once more now.
and of course, he’s also just sad and upset on Izuku’s behalf, because he knows Izuku is sad about it too, even if he’ll never show it and will just downplay it because of his selfless nature. it’s a major loss, and one deserving of tears being shed, even if Izuku won’t shed any of his.
so yeah. it’s a lot. in Katsuki’s mind it’s the potential loss of a partner (if Izuku quits heroics), and a friend (if Izuku does cool toward Katsuki as a result of being quirkless again), and a dream (of them reaching the highest heights together), and his friend’s dream. so it makes perfect sense that all of that would overwhelm him. all of this is stuff that’s broken him down on past occasions as well.
so anyway it’s going be very cathartic when all those fears prove to be unfounded (because they better be unfounded lol). but in the meantime it’s a very moving reminder of how much he really does care and how far the both of them have come.
also Horikoshi really couldn’t resist giving Nobu one last chance to destroy everyone when this scene rolls up in the anime. that’s so reckless of him. there will be no survivors.
All Might telling both of them they’d become the greatest heroes was also the perfect chef’s kiss moment on top of everything else. we already knew it, of course. but it was good to hear him say it. and they needed him to say it. they needed and deserved to hear it.
and I really love that the qualities he specifically praised them for were the same things that each of them had struggled with the most in their respective journeys. he tells Izuku, who had such a difficult time learning how to tell the world “I am here!!”, that he inspires everyone and has become everyone’s hero. and he reminds Katsuki, who struggled with learning how to save people, and has especially struggled with his guilt over what happened to All Might at Kamino, that he saved All Might’s life and is the reason he’s able to still be there with them. both of them just really needed to hear that acknowledgement and encouragement, and it was such a powerful passing of the torch moment. All Might gets so much shit from the fandom, but he really is a phenomenal mentor when he’s in the zone, and I’ll die on that hill.
also a nice touch keeping the focus of those panels on the two boys and their reactions. even though I would have liked to see All Might’s face when he thanked them at the end, it definitely felt deliberate. this is their moment. their soft little tearful smiles afterwards punted my heart off a cliff and then picked it up and held it gently.
lastly, let it be known that I’m still convinced Katsuki has OFA (All Might vestige explanation when??), and it’s not lost on me that that would be a mighty convenient way for Izuku to potentially still go on a-quirkin’ in the end, if that’s how Horikoshi wants to play it. I'm just saying.
also before I forget, just a quick shoutout to Horikoshi for FINALLY showing all three members of the Bakufam in a scene together in which they finally managed to not be completely dysfunctional lol. my deepest darkest BnHA secret is that Mitsuki is secretly super high up on my list of favorite characters. and she was great in this chapter, and I love how she was just “WHAT THE FUCK” aghast at Katsuki using his main character powers to continuously ignore his injuries. and then she and Masaru kind of silently agreeing to step outside the room and let the boys and All Might have their moment. while still secretly listening in. because you know they were. good for them.
lastly for reals, I just want you all to remember that as great as this chapter was, the one thing that it was STILL missing which we have STILL not gotten is a HUG. we demand HUGS. I’m not leaving this manga till I get a bkdk hug goddammit. I will stay here all night if I have to.
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dolldefiler · 2 days
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[Rejoice, cuckqueans. Two in one night. Though this is aimed at cuckcakes.]
C/W: You and I are cucking someone else?, homewrecker
“Are you ready?” You’d ask, the tripod finally set up in the corner of the room. I’d lay on the bed, stroking my cock slowly, throbbing at the thought of what was about to happen. 
“God, I can’t wait,” I’d groan. “She’s going to freak out so fucking much and I just can’t wait for it.” You’d flash me an evil grin in response, scrambling up the bed, crawling over my body to meet my lips with yours. You’d feel a hand brush across your ass, squeezing your perfect globes. Our lips would litter kisses and nips across the other’s body, our hands wandering as well. “Shit, why didn’t I just start dating you instead? You’re so much fucking hotter.”
You’d stop plastering my neck with kisses and chuckle. “And you know what makes me even hotter? The fact that we’ve been fucking ages before you started dating my best friend.”
I’d groan, my fingers reaching for your wet cunt, intending to play with your dripping hole. You’d gently push my hand away and reach up to my ear, your breath dancing across my skin. With a light, breathy voice, dripping in lust you’d whisper, “Just fuck me already. She’ll be here soon.”
That’s all I’d need. I’d slip my hard, aching shaft inside your throbbing pussy and feel you shift above me, settling down on me. You’d gasp softly, feeling me stretch you out again. I’d drive myself inside you, short erratic thrusts met by furious grinding, my balls slapping against your perfect ass. You’d feel a hand on your throat and another fondling your tits. Tits that I’d love more than my girlfriend.
You’d feel my burning desire to betray her. To hurt her. She wouldn’t deserve the pain. Apart from being a pathetic little cunt, apart from her boring body, she’d be quite sweet. She’d support me in every way, love me wholeheartedly, and cherish every moment we’d share together. God, I’d laugh so much watching her cry.
We’d hear the front door click and my heart would leap a little but I’d still pound into your cunt, in and out, again and again. We’d hear her cautious, trembling footsteps stop outside our bedroom door. Hers and mine. The door would swing open and she’d look in at us, eyes glazed over and empty. I’d feel your pussy clench around me and groan into you, jerking off inside you. “Heyy, bestie, how are you?” You’d say cheerfully, your ass bouncing up and down the length of my shaft. She’d collapse to her knees.
“W-what’s going on here? Both of you… how could you do this to me?”
Any doubts I’d have would disappear as soon as you’d laugh, your cunt clenching down hard on my cock, your tits oiled up and gorgeous. Any sympathy I’d feel would disappear in a wave of sheer lust. “Oh sweetie, I’m just looking after your poor boyfriend. You’ve not been looking after him properly, have you?”
Loud moans and the slapping of sweaty, oiled skin would drown out her pathetic snivelling. She’d just sit there, sobbing, crying, pleading for a reason. And just when she’d finally find the strength to stand back up, I’d turn to her, my hand around your throat, your eyes rolled back in cruel pleasure.
“The truth is… we’ve been fucking since before you and I met. The truth—FUCK, god, she’s so hot… the truth is that she set me up with you just so we could break your heart. Just to hurt you. Your—Fuck, fuck, fuck—own best friend betraying you to create a memory we could cum to for the rest of our lives.”
You’d groan and splutter against my hand, caught between laughter and extreme lust. “You know we’re all you have now, don’t you? Your boyfriend and your best friend? You can never leave us you pathetic bitch… so just join us.”
I’d feel my balls throb and seed your tight, treacherous slit with hot cum as you spasm and contract on my cock, waves of orgasmic pleasure washing through you. All while she’d crawl to us, empty eyes and a damp face.
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small-z24 · 14 hours
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One-Shot: The Breaking Point
Summary: A heated exchange between Y/N and Azriel leaves them both broken hearted.
Word Count: 958
Warnings: None but so much angst
The House of Wind stood silent and imposing under the pale light of the moon. Inside, the tension was palpable. The Night Court's inner circle had gathered in the main hall for a meeting that had quickly turned heated.
Y/N stood with her arms crossed, her eyes blazing with defiance as she faced off against Azriel. The usually composed Shadowsinger was visibly agitated, his shadows writhing around him like a storm ready to break.
"You had no right to interfere, Y/N," Azriel snapped, his voice low but filled with anger. "This mission was dangerous, and you put yourself at risk without consulting anyone."
Y/N's eyes narrowed, her own anger flaring. "I did what needed to be done, Azriel. You were taking too long to make a decision, and I couldn’t just sit by and watch people suffer."
Azriel took a step closer, his shadows swirling around him menacingly. "You’re reckless and impulsive. Do you have any idea what could have happened? You could have been killed."
"Reckless?" Y/N scoffed, refusing to back down. "I saved lives, Azriel. While you were hesitating, I took action. Maybe you should thank me instead of berating me."
Azriel's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "This isn't a game, Y/N. Every decision has consequences, and you need to learn to think before you act."
"Don't patronize me," Y/N shot back, her voice rising. "I'm not a child, and I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what I can and cannot do."
The other members of the Night Court watched the exchange with varying degrees of concern and discomfort. Rhysand and Feyre exchanged a worried glance, while Cassian and Mor looked ready to intervene if necessary.
Azriel's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with a mix of frustration and something deeper—something that Y/N couldn't quite place. "You think you know everything, don’t you? You think you're invincible."
Y/N stepped closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And you think you can control everything and everyone. Maybe if you trusted people more, you wouldn't feel the need to."
Azriel’s eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "This isn’t about control. This is about keeping you safe. Why can’t you see that?"
Y/N's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. "Because you don't trust me, Azriel. You never have."
Silence fell over the room, the weight of her words hanging between them. Azriel's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features.
"I do trust you, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't lose you. Not like this."
Y/N's anger ebbed slightly, replaced by a mix of confusion and sorrow. "Why, Azriel? Why does it matter so much to you?"
As she stared into his eyes, she felt a strange pull, a connection that she had never noticed before. It was as if her very soul was reaching out to his, recognizing something profound and unbreakable. The realization hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her breathless.
"No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It couldn’t be. We can’t be... mates."
Azriel's eyes widened slightly, and Y/N could see the truth in them. He had known. He had known all along.
"You knew," she said, her voice rising with a mixture of anger and betrayal. "You knew and you didn't tell me."
Azriel stepped closer, his expression pained. "Y/N, I—"
"How could you?" she interrupted, tears welling in her eyes. "How could you keep something like this from me?"
Azriel reached out, but she took a step back, shaking her head. "I didn’t want to overwhelm you. I didn’t want to risk our friendship, our partnership."
Y/N’s heart ached with the weight of his words. "But you did risk it, Azriel. By not telling me, you made the decision for both of us. You didn’t trust me enough to handle the truth."
Azriel’s shoulders sagged, his shadows wrapping around him protectively. "I thought I was protecting you."
"Protecting me?" Y/N laughed bitterly. "You were protecting yourself. You were afraid of what it would mean for us."
Azriel’s eyes pleaded with her, his voice breaking. "I was afraid of losing you."
Y/N took a deep breath, her anger mingling with the hurt. "Well, you might have just done that."
The room was silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. The other members of the Night Court watched, their expressions a mix of sympathy and concern.
"Y/N," Azriel began, his voice desperate. "Please, I’m sorry. I know I should have told you. I was wrong. But I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and I didn’t want to ruin everything."
Y/N’s heart twisted at his confession. "Love isn’t about keeping secrets, Azriel. It’s about trust, and you broke that trust."
Azriel’s face crumpled with regret. "I know. And I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it back. Just... don’t walk away."
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart. "I need time, Azriel. Time to process this, to figure out what it means for us."
Azriel nodded, his expression filled with sorrow. "Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, waiting for you."
With that, Y/N turned and left the room, her emotions in turmoil. The bond had snapped into place, but the road ahead was uncertain and filled with pain. As she walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if they would ever truly find their way back to each other.
And Azriel, standing in the silent hall, felt the weight of his choices and the fragile hope that one day, they might heal the rift that had formed between them.
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luv-sims · 13 hours
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back to me.
⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆
two childhood best friends, separated by a painful argument and years apart, reunite at university and navigate their past wounds to rekindle their friendship and bond and explore newfound feelings developed.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ jake sim x fem reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖
warnings | argument, angst (not rlly im so bad☹️) second chance friendship (romance) kissing<3
4.1k
(a/n) guys I genuinely worked so hard on this!! I hope u guys like it or else I’ll acc cry <3 also credits to @anitalenia for the separater things, they’re so cute!!!!! anyways enjoy🫶
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The golden sun dipped low over Bondi Beach, casting long shadows on the sand and tinting the waves with a fiery aqua glow. The air was warm, the kind of warmth that enveloped you like a comforting embrace.
But the atmosphere between you and Jake Sim was anything but comforting.
You and Jake had been inseparable since you were basically in diapers. Growing up in Sydney, the two of you had shared everything—from ice cream cones on intense hot summer days to whispered secrets under the stars.
You were best friends, confidants, each other's anchors. But that evening, standing on the beach where you'd shared so many memories through out your whole life, everything changed.
"I can't believe you did this, Jake!" you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. The argument had been building for days, fueled by misunderstandings and unspoken feelings.
Jake's eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were clouded with hurt, anger, and frustration. "And I can't believe you won't even try to see my side of things!"
The cause of the argument was trivial in hindsight, a misunderstanding about your future plans after high school. Jake had been accepted into a prestigious university in Seoul, South Korea, and he'd decided to go without discussing it with you. It felt like a betrayal, like he was abandoning everything you had built together.
"I thought we were in this together," you said, your voice trembling. "You didn't even tell me you were applying Jake, I could’ve-“
Jake ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of exasperation you'd seen countless times. "I didn't think it mattered. I didn't want to hold you back, and I thought you'd be happy for me, and I know for a fact you don’t wanna go to Seoul.”
"Happy?" you echoed, the word tasting bitter in your mouth. "How can I be happy when you're leaving me behind?"
“And how do you know I wouldn’t go for you?” you say to yourself in the back of your mind.
The argument ended with harsh words and tears. Jake walked away, leaving you standing on the beach, your heart shattered. The next day, he was gone. Without a proper goodbye, Jake had moved to Korea, and you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.
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The years that followed were a blur of university life, part-time jobs, and attempts to move on. You threw yourself into your studies at the University of Sydney, trying to forget the boy who had once meant everything to you, and than had thrown you away like trash. You didn't follow Jake's life in Korea, it was too painful to see his success and wonder if he ever thought about you, while you thought about him endlessly. It was quite embarrassing, really.
Occasionally, you heard whispers of his achievements from other classmates who kept in touch with him. “Jake Sim had become a top student!” “Jake Sim is the heart throb of Seoul university!” He was living a life that seemed worlds away from yours.
But no amount of distance could erase the memories of your friendship. Late at night, when the world was quiet, and you left alone with your thoughts, you found yourself thinking about him—his laugh, his smile, the way he used to look at you like you were everything to him, The pain was a dull ache that never fully went away.
It was your third year at university, and life had settled into a comfortable routine. You had a close group of great friends, a part-time job at a local café, and a busy-busy course load that kept you busy. You had learned to live with the void Jake had left behind, even if it still hurt tremendously sometimes.
One crisp Summer morning, you walked into your first lecture of the semester, juggling a coffee cup and a stack of textbooks. The lecture hall was buzzing with chatter, but one voice stood out among the rest— your face falling at a voice you hadn't heard in years.
You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you turned to see him. Jake Sim. He was standing at the front of the lecture hall, talking to the professor. He looked older, more mature, but there was no mistaking those familiar features you had adored so much.
Jake's eyes met yours across the room, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You could see the shock and recognition in his eyes, mirroring your own. The memories came flooding back, overwhelming you with a rush of emotions.
Before you could process what was happening, the professor began the lecture, and you had no choice but to settle down and find a seat. Your mind was racing with thoughts, unable to focus on the words being spoken. Jake was back. After all these years, he was here, back in the blazing Sydney sun at your university.
After the lecture, you hurried out of the hall, your thoughts in turmoil. You needed to clear your head, to understand what this meant, why he was back. But as you stepped outside, you felt a familiar warm touch on your arm.
"Wait," Jake's voice was soft, hesitant.
You turned to face him, your heart in your throat. Struggling to find words. "Jake..."
"I didn't know you'd be here," he said, his eyes searching yours. "I transferred here for a semester abroad. I didn't know you were still in Sydney."
There were so many things you wanted to say, so many questions you had. “You hadn’t asked”But the words caught in your throat, and all you could manage was a nod.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."
You felt a pang in your heart, he had broken you completely, and left the next day. What were you supposed to say? He was all you had known your entire life, and suddenly you had to learn how to breathe without him.
"I was so hurt, Jake," you finally said, your voice shaking. "You left without even saying goodbye, without even asking me what I wanted.”
He looked down, guilt, shame, and regret written all over his face. "I know. I was scared, stupid and young. I didn't know how to face you after what happened."
There was a long silence as you both stood there, the weight of the past pressing down on you. Finally, you took a deep breath. "Maybe we can talk? Later? There's a lot we need to say, and I’m kinda busy right now…”
Jake nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "I'd like that so much. Can we meet at the café you used to work at? Tomorrow afternoon? If your free of course-“
You quickly cut Jake’s rambling off, knowing it was a habit of his when he was extremely anxious and nervous, and anxiety clouding over him.”
"Okay," you agreed, your heart pounding with an unfamiliar feeling, the feeling you felt all too many years ago when you were with Jake.
"Tomorrow."
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The next day, you arrived at the café early, your nerves getting the best of you. You found a quiet corner and sat down, your thoughts a mix of anticipation and anxiety. When Jake walked in, your heart skipped a beat.
He spotted you and made his way over, a gentle smile on his lips. "Hey."
"Hi,” you replied, trying to steady your breathing.
Jake sat down across from you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.
"I'm sorry," he said again, breaking the silence. "I know I hurt you, and I regret how I handled everything."
You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you were applying to universities in Korea?"
Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair and biting his lip, you found yourself with a soft smile seeing he still had his familiar habits.
“I didn't want to put any pressure on you. I thought it would be easier if I just made the decision on my own. But I was wrong. I should have talked to you about it."
The anger and hurt that had been simmering inside you for years bubbled to the surface. "You were my best friend, Jake. I thought we shared everything. But you just left without a word, and it felt like I didn't matter to you."
"You did matter," he said urgently. "You still do. I was scared, and I made a mistake. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I hurt you more than I ever imagined, and I never wanted that, I never ever wanted to cause you pain.”
The raw honesty in his voice cut through your anger, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. "I missed you," you admitted, your voice barely above a soft whisper.
Jake reached across the table, taking your hand in his. The touch was gentle, familiar, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "I missed you too. Every day."
And you found yourselves smiling at each other, with that familiar look you had all those years in your eyes.
The conversation that followed was filled with tears and laughter, apologies and forgiveness. You talked about the past you had shared, about the dreams and the paths your lives had taken. The pain of the separation was still there, but so was the bond and understanding that had once made you inseparable.
Over the next few weeks, you and Jake spent more time together, slowly rebuilding the friendship you had lost. There were awkward moments and difficult moments and conversations, but there were also moments of genuine connection and understanding.
One evening, as you walked along the beach, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, Jake stopped and turned to you. "Can we start over? As friends, and maybe... something more?"
You looked into his eyes, seeing the hope and vulnerability there. The years of hurt and distance had left their mark, but you knew that you still cared for him deeply. "I'd like that," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But we need to take it slow. There's still a lot to work through."
Jake nodded, a look of determination in his eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes. I just want to be in your life again."
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The months that followed were a journey of healing and rediscovery. You and Jake spent countless hours talking, laughing, and reminiscing about the past. The more time you spent together, the more you realized how much you had missed having him in your life.
Your friends noticed the change in you, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Jake, the way you smiled more often. They were happy to see you reconnecting with someone who had once been such an important part of your life.
One evening, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against each other, Jake turned to you with a serious expression. "There's something I need to tell you."
Your heart skipped a beat, worried about what he might say. "What is it?"
"I've been offered a permanent position in Sydney," he said, his voice steady. "It means I can stay here, with you."
The relief that washed over you was overwhelming. You threw your arms around Jake, laughing with tears brimming in your eyes, burying your face in his shoulder. The tears came unbidden, a mixture of happiness and the release of long-held fears. Jake's arms tightened around you, holding you close.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice soothing you as he mumbled onto your bare skin. "I'm not going anywhere this time, not without you."
You pulled back slightly, looking up into his eyes. "I was so scared you'd leave me again."
Jake brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. "I promise, I'm here to stay. Not leaving you ever again love."
As you gazed into his eyes, you felt a sense of peace that had been missing for so long. The beach, the stars, the gentle sound of the waves—it all felt like the perfect backdrop for this new chapter in your lives, together.
Over the next few months, you and Jake focused on rebuilding your relationship, strengthening it and laying the foundation for something stronger and more resilient than before. You spent time together, sharing stories of the years you had spent apart, learning about each other's lives all over again.
There were still moments of pain and doubt, shadows of the past that occasionally surfaced. But each time, you faced them together, talking through your fears and doubts. It was a process of healing, of learning to trust each other fully once more.
Jake's presence in your life brought a renewed sense of joy and purpose. You found yourself looking forward to the future with him by your side. You found yourself happier, youthful again.
It was a warm summer evening when you and Jake decided to have a picnic on the beach. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the sand and sea. You spread out a blanket, laughing as you struggled to keep it from blowing away in the gentle flowing breeze.
As you sat down, Jake handed you a sandwich he'd made. "I hope you like it," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
You took a bite, savoring the familiar taste. "It's perfect," you said, smiling at him. "Just like old times."
Jake smiled back, a look of relief and admiration on his face. "I'm glad."
After you finished eating, you lay back on the blanket, gazing up at the twinkling stars. Jake lay beside you, his hand brushing against yours. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you, the feelings all those years ago resurfacing.
"Do you remember when we used to stargaze here?" Jake mumbled softly.
"Of course," you replied, turning to look at him. "We'd make up stories about the constellations and dream about the future."
Jake's eyes were filled with a mix of nostalgia and longing. "I missed those moments, more than you could ever imagine.”
You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Me too, Jakey.”
For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves and the distant hum of the city. Then, Jake leaned in, his gaze locked on yours. Your heart raced as he drew closer, his breath warm against your skin.
When his lips finally met yours, it felt so right, like all those years apart were worth it as it bought you to this very moment.
The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration of emotions long held back. But as you responded, the intensity grew, a shared hunger for the connection you'd both been craving.
The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms. When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling at eachother, with love in both your eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning.
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With your relationship now onto the next step, and official, you and Jake faced new challenges. Balancing your studies, part-time jobs, and spending time together required constant planning and communication. There were moments of frustration and exhaustion, from being overworked and extreme tired, but you both pulled through together, because at the end of the day being in each other’s warm embrace was all worth it.
One evening, as you sat in your apartment studying for exams, Jake surprised you with a visit. He brought takeout from your favorite restaurant, knowing you'd been too busy to cook.
"Thought you could use a break," he said, setting the bags on the table.
You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. "You're a lifesaver."
As you ate together, you talked about your hopes and dreams, about the future you wanted to build together. The conversations were filled with laughter and occasional serious words, but through it all, there was a sense of partnership and mutual support.
Life was not without its storms, and one particularly dark evening, an old wound reopened. You had been out with friends, and when you returned to your apartment, you found Jake waiting for you, a troubled look on his face.
"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.
Jake hesitated, then handed you his phone. "I got a message from someone in Korea. They want me to come back for a research project. It’s a great opportunity, but..."
Your heart sank. The fear of losing him again resurfaced, the old scars aching. "But you'd have to leave Sydney," you finished for him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake nodded, looking torn. "I don't want to go if it means losing you again. But it's a chance to work on something I'm passionate about."
You felt a mix of emotions—pride for his achievements, fear of being abandoned again, and a deep love that made you want the best for him. "Jake, I can't ask you to give up your dreams. But I also can't go through losing you again." You said the last part as you felt your heart breaking.
Jake took your hands, his eyes pleading. "We'll find a way, We can make it work long distance. I won't make the same mistakes. I promise, please baby.” He says with eyes brimming with shiny tears.
Tears filled your eyes as you considered his words. "I just don't want to be hurt again, I can’t be hurt again Jake..”
Jake pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. "Neither can I, We'll figure it out together, mm?”
The weeks that followed were a test of your determination to each other. You discussed every detail of how to maintain your relationship while he was in Korea. The planning was meticulous—scheduling video calls, visits, and ways to stay connected despite the distance.
The night before Jake was set to leave, you both stood on the beach, the moon casting a silvery glow on the waves. The familiar setting brought back memories of your first kiss, and the promises you had made to each other.
"Are you sure about this?" Jake asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.
You nodded, taking his hand. "Yes. We'll make it work. I believe in us, believe in you.” You say caressing the back of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you.
Jake's eyes were filled with emotion as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was filled with both longing and desperation, a promise to hold on to each other no matter what.
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The months apart were challenging, but you and Jake found ways to keep the spark alive. Daily messages, video calls, and surprise care packages became your lifelines. You shared your successes and struggles, celebrated milestones, and comforted each other through the hard times.
There were moments of doubt, nights when the distance felt unbearable. But each time, you reminded yourselves of the love you shared and the future you were building together, the future that was so close in reach.
One evening, as you sat on your balcony, Jake called you with exciting news. "I got a grant for my research! It's going to make a big difference."
You smiled, proud of him. "That's amazing, Jake. I'm so happy for you, so proud baby.”
Jake's voice was filled with hope. "It also means I can come back to Sydney sooner than planned. Just a few more months, and I'll be home."
The news filled you with a renewed sense of determination, and happiness. "I can't wait."
The day Jake returned to Sydney was one of the happiest of your life. You stood at the airport, your heart racing as you scanned the crowd for his familiar face. When you finally saw him, it felt like the world had shifted back into place.
You ran to him, tears of joy streaming down your face. Jake dropped his bags and caught you in his arms, lifting you off the ground as he kissed you deeply.
"I'm home!” he shouted against your lips, as people gave him looks as if he was a crazy man- and in this situation.. he kinda was.
"Welcome home, Jakey.” you replied, your heart overflowing with love and happiness.
With Jake back in Sydney, you both focused on building your future together. You found a small apartment, filled it with memories and dreams, signs of your love and started planning the next steps of your lives.
Your relationship was stronger than ever, forged through the trials and triumphs you had faced. You supported each other's ambitions, celebrated each other's successes, and provided comfort during the tough times.
One evening, as you sat on the beach watching the sunset, Jake turned to you with a serious expression. "There's something I want to ask you."
You looked at him, curious. "What is it?"
Jake took a deep breath, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
Shock flooding through your body as tears filled your eyes as you realized what he was asking. "Yes," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, I'll marry you."
Jake slipped the ring onto your finger, and you kissed jake gently with love and softness, the sunset casting a golden glow on your new beginning.
The years that followed were filled with love and adventure. You and Jake faced life's challenges together, always supporting each other and never forgetting the journey that had brought you to this point.
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“Daddy, please tell me another bedtime story!” Your six year-old daughter pleaded as Jake looked at you with permission.
You giggled at his desperate gaze, “go ahead, honey.” You say kissing his forehead, sitting on the other side of your daughter’s bed as Jake cradled you both into his arms.
“Once upon a time…”
As Jake had told the same story he tells your daughter every single night, your story, you know there is nowhere else you’d rather be right now, but here with Jake.
@luv-sims
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inkmonster21 · 2 days
Text
Sing for Me
4. This is Hollywood
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader
She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.
Previous Chapter
Series Masterlist
Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch
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It was the last day on set, and they were filming all the last-minute scenes, and touching up some stunts. That’s all that was on the schedule today. Which means I had nothing to do but sit and watch Cooper Howard be sexy.
The set bell rings and the buzz of people moving around begins again. I stand from my chair and slide next to Cooper as he reads over the very last rewrite. “Hi.” I smile at him.
Cooper nods and turns away, ignoring me completely. I felt a pain in my heart, “Cooper.” I move in front of him again, and he steps away. “What are you doing?” I ask in concern.
He lowers the script from his face, a glare in his eyes. “Trying to work, if you don’t mind.” I blink at him, he’s never once been so rude towards me. “I’m sorry?” “Go on. Be useful somewhere else.” I back away slowly from him, going back to my chair and sitting down. Embarrassment eating away at my core. Did I do something wrong?
Cooper continued to ignore me the rest of the day. He ditched lunch on set, wouldn’t speak to me at the crew meeting, and practically ran away when I tried to catch him when everyone was dismissed.
I catch him right when he is exiting his trailer. “Cooper. Hey, I’m sorry if I did anything to make you upset. I wish you would talk to me.” Cooper stares at me with dead eyes. “You want to talk?” I nod, “I would love to.” “Alright, let’s talk. This thing we have is over. We wrapped filming and I’m not too interested in keeping you leashed up anymore. So you’re free to do whatever the fuck it is you do.” He pushes past me.
I scoff, shock consumes me. “What? What the fuck?” “Wasn’t that hard to comprehend, honey.” His nicknames now have been laced with venom. “You said-“ “I said a lot of shit to get into your pants. Grow up, dollface. This is Hollywood. How else did you think you’d get to the top? Did you think I’d put my neck out for you for free? Get you cast in every film just out of the kindness of my heart? All you were was a good time.”
I stride up to him, slapping him across the face, “Fuck you, you mother fucker.” I spit in his face, tears flowing, a mixture of rage and despair seeping through. The crew now standing still as well watching the outburst. I back away from him quickly, running to my trailer and locking myself inside.
I knew it. I knew this was just a game. A time waster for him. How could I let myself fall so easily? I fall to the floor balling. I cradle myself as I choke on my sobs.
~
How long has it been since that happened? Weeks? Months? Who fucking knows at this point. It’s been long enough that the press tour is getting ready to begin and they’re requesting for my appearance.
“You have to go, you’re one of the leads,” Louis argues from the foot of my bed as I eat another scoop of ice cream. “No, I don’t.” I lick the spoon clean before grabbing the bottle of wine from my bedside table. Louis watches in disbelief as I turn the bottle up and down half. “Oh my god. You need some serious help.” I glare at him, my hair falling out of his bun as I shake my head at him. “You know what? If you’re going to be rude you can leave.”
“Oh, I’m going to be rude.” Louis flips the blanket off of me, revealing my two-day-old pajamas. He shakes his head, “this is a crime.”
He rips me from the bed and ushers me into the bathroom. “We’re going out tonight. I’m sick of seeing you cry over a 50-year-old man. You’re in your fucking prime and you’re in here drowning yourself in wine like a depressed benzo wife. Scrub your ass, brush your teeth, and put some makeup up because tonight we are getting you out of this mess. I’m calling Heather and her boyfriend.”
I groan as he pushes me into the large bathroom. “I don’t want to!” “Well, you’re going to. You can still get drunk but you’re doing it in style and with some friends.”
I cry once more in the shower, holding my cheeks in sorrow. He really has done a number on me. I lived for him every day for months, and now without him, I feel no real reason to try the basic social appearances. Louis has been doing my shopping, no doubt the store clerk thinks he's an alcoholic.
I stare at myself in the mirror and sigh. The dark circles around my eyes, my chapped lips that I would bite as I paced around thinking about him, my cheeks pale and dry; I was truly a mess.
With the makeup, the dark circles were covered, and a tight dress hugged me nicely. The ice cream and wine diet was effective. Louis shoves a handbag in my arms and pulls me out the door.
"There she is!" Heather cheers as she pulls me into her arms. "I haven't seen you in FOREVER! Big movie star now, too good to hang out with us?" I smile at her words. It was nice to be around my old friends for a change. "No, I'm ready to throw it all away. I am so tired, and the press tour hasn't even started yet."
Her boyfriend reaches out, "Well, it surely is a pleasure to meet you. I was beginning to doubt Heather, but here you are." "Nice to meet you." Louis returns from the bar with a tray of drinks. "Where is Johnny?"
I furrow my brow, "Johnny who?" Just that moment, a body takes the seat next to me. "Nice to see you again, (Y/n)." I laugh loudly as I tackle him in a hug. "Oh my god! How long has it been?" He smiles, "A long time. So long I heard you don't partake in the devil's lettuce anymore, or the snow, or the magic mushrooms. What happened to my party girl?" I shrug, "I got famous." He tilts his head, "And you have it backward. You're supposed to be getting us the good shit with all your high connections." I laugh falling into him, downing a shot as I do. It was true that I was quite some trouble in school. I just knew how to have a great time. It wasn’t my fault that I was the life of the party. Johnny was the plug who was able to get anything we desired. The two of us were close for the longest time. Never made it official though. I guess I have a pattern of relationships under wraps.
Shot after shot, my vision struggled to stay focused. Johnny dances with me in the middle of the room. His hands pressed into my waist as we swayed. "I remember when we were in high school, I thought you were full of it." He spins me around, at arm's distance with a charming smile. He spins me in, dipping down to whisper in my ear, "Now look at you, the biggest fucking star in America." I turn to look at him, the alcohol fooling my thoughts. "And look at you, still as handsome as a movie star." False, but what else could I say? It was easy with Johnny. We had the history to back up the emotions. Something stable, someone who wouldn’t memorize all my inner thoughts and feelings. Someone who wouldn’t then use said feeling to their benefit.
He runs a finger down my cheek, just like he would. I close my eyes, the simple touch reminding me of his skin. "Want to come out and smoke with me?"
It started with a joint, then Heather and her boyfriend came outside with the small baggie filled with powder, and with the entire mixture inhabiting my body, I felt warm. I felt strangely happy. I laugh as we leave the club, all five of us loudly making our way across the street. Camera flashes catch my attention. "Ah, fuck. Here they come." Louis huffs. "Just keep moving. Let’s get (y/n) in the car.”
The paparazzi race across the street, blocking traffic as they call for me, snapping pictures left and right. "Smile for us!" "Are you celebrating?" "Who are your friends?" "Is that your man, (Y/n)?" Johnny cups my lower back and takes my arm assisting me into the car. He leans in the cab with a smile. "Take care, (Y/n)." He leans in kissing my cheek and backing away, the cameras capturing it all. The door closes and Louis is sat next to me with a smirk. "What?" He shakes his head, "He's hot as fuck." I feel the warmth spread to my face, my lips curling in a smile. "Yeah, he is."
~
The tabloids ran a story on her outing with some friends. "America's Sweetheart Has a Night on the Town." I felt my knee shake as I began the read the article. She was seen at some middle class bar with some friends. None I had ever heard of or seen. Especially the one with his hand around her. Seen drinking, and dancing the night away, a dazzling smile on her face. I look at one of the photos in more detail. Her smile is wide and her eyes are blown to the size of saucers. I shake my head, "Come on now, you're better than that, honey." I run my thumb over the curve of her cheek. She looked good, just as beautiful as the last time I saw her. When I broke her heart. When I shattered everything I desired. Our souls that once fed each other were now starving in separate rooms, locked away from each other.
"She's so pretty," Janey says as she peeks over his shoulder. I couldn't hide my smile. "You think so?" Janey nods with a large grin. "Can we play her record, Daddy? Please? I want to dance." I smile wasting no time placing the record in the player. Her sweet voice ripples through the house. Janey holds my hands as we sway to the angelic sound. If I close my eyes I can see her on stage performing for the world, but more importantly for herself. She was a true artist. She bled music. Singing every chance she got no matter where it was. That notepad went everywhere with her and whenever the muse hit the pages would rapidly flip and she would jot down whatever was leading her to compose.
That notebook…
The one I keep tucked neatly between two geographic books in my study. I would pull it out and read her thoughts whenever an ache pierced through my body. The burning want of her presence. I missed her.
The love song was one of the last she attempted to construct within the pages. A song about me.
~
It was a hot day, and I couldn't think of a better way to spend it than sitting next to the pool. "This is the nicest house I've ever been to." Heather squeals as she throws her bag down by the row of chairs. Louis wipes sunscreen on his face. He turns to me with a smile, "So, is the Hottie coming?" I smirk at him. I sip my drink as I lay in the sun. "The Hottie is already here, and is walking down the steps right now." Johnny comes down the stairs clad in swim trunks, and tanned abs lining his stomach. Louis grabs my arm for support, "He stayed here?" I tip my sunglasses looking at my friend. "A girl can have fun. It’s not like we’re strangers." Heather winks at me from the float in the water, "She sure can! I swear you haven't been this fun since senior year!"
The phone in the pool house rings and I groan, "No, no work calls today." Louis stands refusing my request and picking up the phone. "Hello?" Louis quickly begins to scribble things on the pad of paper. I toss my head back knowing it's going to take up my time. "Never a peaceful moment, huh?" Johnny takes a seat next to me in the chair a beer in one hand, and a lit joint in the other. I quickly snatch the rolled devil's cigarette and inhale. "You don't even know the half of it."
"Oh, yes she can make it." I look at Johnny with a flat expression, "See what I mean?" Louis sits back down in his chair, reading the notepad. "So, Thursday, you're filming an ad for Vault Tech, and then we're all going to be attending the wrap party!" The lot of them cheer. "A real wrap party?" Heather gasps.
Johnny smiles, running his finger over my shoulder. "I get to see you in action. I sure am a lucky, man." I smile but internally shutter at the words remembering Cooper's same words. I inhale again, waving him from my mind. "You sure are a lucky man," I smirk at him as I pass the joint over.
~
The screen lights up revealing our host. "Oh. Hello there. Yep, it’s me, Cooper Howard, star of stage and screen. But I’m not here today to talk to you about my latest picture. No, today I’m here to show you a vast and wonderful place, not made by God Almighty but by the working man. A veritable Camelot of the nuclear age. Now, how ’bout we turn on some lights." The large lights hum as they illuminate the vault. "There, that’s better. Now, I’m speaking to you from deep inside the fully livable Model 96JQ1164." Cooper travels down the vault's path. "And what a beaut she is." He knocks against the metal wall. "And what a song she sings. Now, that right there is Vault 4’s three-foot-thick lead casing. Strong enough to keep out the Rads and the Reds." He sends a wink and a smile.
“Now would you look at that?” Cooper walks over to a lineup of robots resembling America’s favorite little songbird. Her eyes open and she smiles gently at Cooper. “Good afternoon, Mr. Howard. How can I be of assistance?” Cooper turns back to the camera with a smile on his face. “These bots will be a helping hand in your very own vault. Each community will have access to 6 individual bots that can move throughout the vault at your request.”
The real-life (Y/n) steps into the frame with her award-winning smile. “That’s right! These bots are equipped with knowledge spreading from a culinary chef to a registered nurse. She’ll be a helping hand to any resident. Helpful, smart, and beautiful. Wouldn’t you say, Cooper?” He smiles at (Y/n). “Stunning.” He breathes out.
(Y/n) walks ahead of Cooper. "Follow me." They both enter the elevator. The scene changes to view the so-called neighborhood. "Now, this corridor here is Sycamore Street, where you’ll wave howdy to any one of your 200 neighbors on your way home for an enchanted evening with your loved ones." Cooper stops beside (y/n). He places a hand on her shoulder. "Look, there's the Hawthornes." Both Cooper and (Y/n) wave before entering the family’s living space. "Now, this isn’t just your average all-American family. No, Lloyd and Cassandra here are both scientists, specializing in the effects of radiation on human DNA." Cassandra nods, "That’s right. And we’ll be living and working right here in Vault 4, leading a community governed entirely by scientists." (Y/n) smiles at the woman, "Wait a second, did you say “living down here”?" She leans into Cooper's side, a worried look on her face, "There hasn’t been a nuclear incident, has there?" Cooper rests an arm around her in comfort.
Lloyd shakes his head, "Uh, no, not yet. But, our family and a group of 80 volunteers will be conducting a five-year trial of Vault 4. To demonstrate to the world that, no matter what comes our way, America will be ready." Cooper shakes his head, a proud smile on his face. "Five years. Well, I may play a hero in the movies, but… you all are heroes in real life." (Y/n) smiles brightly from his side. "And now you can be a hero, too. By purchasing a residence in a Vault-Tec vault today." Cooper nods, "Because if the worst should happen tomorrow, the world is gonna need Americans just like you to build a better day after."
"And cut." The bell rings and I peel myself away from Cooper in disgust. I can feel my anger bubbling. Even working together he refused to look my way, always looking directly behind me. I need a fucking bump.
I scoff as I exit the vault room and into the hall where Barb stands with her colleagues, wearing a shit-eating grin. "Hi, (Y/n)." She waves her fingers delicately at me. I push forward a smile as I pass her, "Hi, Barb, so nice to see you." I walk across the hall into the separate vault where Johnny stands taking a tour. "Impressed?" He looks at me with a grin. "This is so cool. Tell me I get a family and friends discount?" I poke his chest lightly, "You give me that little tube you got in your shirt pocket, and you can get whatever you want." He smirks, quickly passing the small glass tube. I use the small spoon to place it at my nose before sharply inhaling. I pucker my lips, "Ohh." I shake my head lightly, the waves crashing. The numb wash of confidence and carelessness overtakes me. I giggle as I look at Johnny. He laughs with me, taking the tube from my hands. His gaze drills into my eyes, "You're so fucking high." I cover my mouth, unable to stop my giggles. "You think the camera could tell?" "I don't think so. You just seemed, extra happy." I wrap my arms around his neck, "How could I not be? I feel like a high schooler again.” He spins me, only for me to catch the tall figure in the door.
"Everything okay in here?" Cooper asks, an unreadable expression on his face. Johnny's hand remains on my waist; he nods, "All good, buddy." Cooper looks over Johnny, examining his every inch. With a grin on his face, Cooper extends a hand, “Cooper Howard.” Johnny shakes his hand, the two men bulking up towards each other, the beginnings of a dominance challenge. “Right, the cowboy. Johnny Bud.” Cooper raised a brow and hummed. “Can’t say I’m familiar. All the same, nice to meet you.” Cooper turns to bare onto my orbs, finally looking at me, into me. I don’t think he was fond of what he found. He nods his head. Not even a word was spoken to me. He exits the room with one final glance, a chuckle leaving his lips.
Fucking asshole.
~
That’s what she chooses to associate herself with. Some small town drug dealer from her hometown? I could see it in her eyes. She’s flying as high as a kite in the clouds. I can smell her on my suit. I bring the sleeve to my nose, taking a short inhale. It’s intoxicating. My restraints barely held together at the sight of her. I was begging god for just a second of time alone with her. Then I saw him trailing behind her, hand on her back as he looked at everything in amazement. Amateur. Why was he even here? Wasn’t this a closed set? Shows how professional Vault Tech really is. They’d let just anyone walk in here. I bet they don’t even have someone on her security. She could get hurt. I wouldn’t let that happen. Damned all I’d jump off a bridge for her and die happy with the memory of her kiss.
Barb looks in my direction, her eyes digging for some type of evidence of betrayal. She straightens my tie, “having a good time?” I shrug, “Nothing against these colleagues of yours, but what do you say we go home?” I need to get away from her as soon as possible. I can feel the desire building, and I as a man can only withstand so much.
“There is a wrap party.” I furrow my brows, “What, a… a wrap party? For this?” Unimpressed I roll my eyes. I didn’t want to spend another minute with these assholes. I sigh, “We go for a couple of hours, we shake a few hands-,” “It’s at our house.” I stare at her, behind her (y/n) walks across the hall, arm in arm with drug dealer John. Fury ignited, but I pushed it down. Surly she wasn’t going to come to the house. Barb would be livid. I would be rid of my temptation soon. I press a fake smile, “The things I’m willing to do for you.”
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A Fleeting Moment
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Note: This is an AU of the AU. This is using Sixteen Candles characters but it’s does not have any affiliation or connection to the storylines and drabbles. It’s completely au. 
FOR MY ANON BESTIE
Read sixteen candles here on a03
Warning: breastfeeding and a bit of age regression from Bunny. Spanking (not done by Nat/Wanda) and child abuse in general. Also mentions of SA by a minor. 
Bunny can pinpoint the moment like a location on a map. She can remember the first time she hid within herself, protecting what was left of her sanity, for the sake of staying alive. When she was nine years old her father died. She got the news on a Wednesday afternoon. She slid into the backseat of her mother’s car, wondering why her older sister was driving when she noticed the tense mood. She sat back in her seat, watching the trees go by, as they drove. She was silent the entire way home. The somber feeling of the car unsettled her. She walked into her home with excitement. Her teacher stuffed her very first report card of the year into her backpack and she wanted to show them. She struggled with math and her dad stayed up with her some nights to help her. He never got angry with her or yelled at her. He simply found the tools to help her thrive. She was more than ready to show him the fruits of their labor. She raced into the kitchen first, her backpack slapping against her back, as she searched for her parents. She skidded to a comical stop as she saw her mother bent over the counter, her older sister, Brie, holding her mother in her arms as she cried. 
“Mommy,” Bunny asked. She stepped around her sister to tug at her mother’s shirt. “Mommy, are you okay?” Sherry looked down at her with tears in her eyes. She was distraught and hurt. Bunny, having never seen her mother so upset, wanted nothing more than to make it better. 
“No, baby, I’m not okay.” Sherry sniffled. She wiped at her eyes before grabbing onto Bunny's arms. She looks into her eyes. His eyes. “Your daddy. He was sick.” 
“Sick how?” Bunny tilts her head. 
“Your daddy had cancer, baby,” Sherry continues. She swallows thickly. 
“Like the bald kids in the commercial?” She questions and Sherry nods. “So he’s getting medicine from the doctor, right? They can make it better.” 
For a moment Sherry wants to smile at her daughter’s innocence. She wants to cry at having this conversation with her daughter. 
“No, y/n, they can’t make it better.” Sherry doesn’t know the right thing to say. She doesn’t know how to tell her daughter that her father, her husband, stopped his treatments because he was in too much pain. He hid it from her to allow her to enjoy as much of her childhood as she could. “They can’t make it better this time. Daddy passed away. He’s not coming back.” Bunny’s lips curled, her chin quivered, and her tears fell as she cried silently. She leaned into her mother, reveling in the feel of Sherry’s arms, as the words sunk in. 
“He promised,” Bunny whispered into her mother’s shoulder. “He promised he would take me to the game. I don’t even like it but I can like it for him.” Bunny pulled back. “Tell him. I’ll sit and I won’t ask to leave and I won’t go to the bathroom too many times. Please, tell him.”
Sherry’s shoulder shook as she tried to keep in her sobs. “I can’t tell him, baby. I can’t. He’s gone.” Faster than she can react, Bunny pulls away from her mother. She runs up the stairs and into her parent’s bedroom. She searches far and low for the man in question only to come up empty. His side of the bed is perfectly made. His shoes still standing next to his dresser. His wallet is on the nightstand. Bunny comes over to the nightstand. His wedding ring sits on the dresser right next to the rest of his belongings. She only wants to touch it. To feel him with her. She takes a hold of the rings to turn over in her hands. 
He promised. 
A week later, the funeral has come and gone. Bunny has said goodbye to her father. She sits patiently in the living room of her home as people enter and exit. No one pays too much attention to her as they mingle and talk amongst themselves. Most of them glance at her and whisper. She knows what they’re saying. 
He dind’t tell her. No one told her. 
She was clueless as can be up until a week ago. She never knew her father was sick. She resents all of them for not telling her. She misses him. His smile. The way his eyes would crinkle whenever he was amused by something. She misses the way he smelled. The way he always brought joy into their lives. Bunny picks at her simple black dress. Her hair is pinned into a tight ponytail at the base of her head. Her shoes, black Mary Jane shoes, top off the outfit. She’s dressed so perfectly wehn everything inside of her feels like a mess. She stands from the couch to find her mother. Sherry is in her bedroom, surrounded by her older sisters, when Bunny enters. She’s crying to herself, as the other girls try and comfort her. 
“Hey, go downstairs and play with the other kids,” Brie instructs. 
“I want to be with Mommy,” Bunny ignores her to come and stand next to her mother. “Mommy, can I stay here?” Sherry simply looks at her and crumples. She turns away from the little girl to cry into her hands. 
“Go, Bunny, she’s not in the mood.” Brie tries again. 
“She hasn’t talked to me all week,” Bunny says defiantly. “I just want to sit with her. She’s my Mama too.” She stands with her arms folded. What used to be a way to annoy her siblings seems to do even worse. Brie doesn’t react. She simply stands there. 
“Go,” Sherry says in a hushed tone. “Go to your room, go outside, go sit down. I don’t care just please go.” She says. Bunny’s heart drops. She only wants to be with her family. She wants them to hold her. To be with her. She doesn’t want to be alone. She certainly doesn’t want to play with the other kids. “Go!’ Sherry shouts, pointing to the door. Bunny jumps into action, leaving the room with tears in her eyes. She doesn’t go to her room this time. At least, not to stay. She grabs her favorite stuffed animal, Bunny II. It’s the one her dad gave her. It still smells like him. If they wanted to be left alone she could do that. She steps into the hallway with measured steps. She counts to herself how many. Finally, she reaches the bathroom. She closes and locks the door. She climbs into the bathtub, pulling the curtain close, not caring if she messes up her dress, her hair, or her stockings. She squeezes Bunny II to her as she cries. 
She may be nine years old but she’s not stupid. Mama doesn’t want her. She never has. She has been able to tell since she was little. She treats her differently than all of the sisters. She yells at her more. Acts as if she is a burden. Maybe Daddy noticed too. Maybe that’s why he made the extra effort to be with her. Bunny lets her tears slip out onto the cold flooring of the bathtub. She brings her knees to her chest to lie in the fetal position. She stuffs her thumb into her mouth, sucking stronger, as she pulls at her ear. It doesn’t make her feel better. At least not all the way. It would work for now. Her body begins to feel weaker. She can’t stay awake for too long as her eyes flutter closed. 
Hours later, Bunny wakes up by banging at the door. 
“y/n, are you in there?” It’s Danielle. She knocks again, and again, and again. Bunny lifts to look at the door, not wanting to answer, as the knocking gets harder. If she doesn’t answer they’ll worry. 
A part of her says let them. They didn’t care if she was alive anyway. They never care. When the knocking becomes excessive, she climbs from the tub with Bunny II dangling from her left hand. She turns the lock and twists the knob open to find her family looking back at her. She’s met by her mother’s enraged hands shaking her. 
“Have you been in here this whole time?” Sherry shook her. “Answer me?” She didn’t care that Bunny seemed afraid of her anger. “Hello! Answer me. Why didn't you say anything? We’ve been looking for you for hours.”
Bunny simply whimpers. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Sherry asks incredulously. “What are you sorry for? You know better. Don't just disappear.”
Bunny’s lip trembles but she doesn’t cry. She stands, with Sherry’s tight grip on her arms, and a blank expression on her face. 
“Take these wet clothes off and go to bed,” Sherry releases her.
Bunny nods to herself. This was going to be her new normal. 
The next time Bunny regresses is when she’s eleven years old. She’s sitting at the dinner table, refusing to eat, and getting lectured about it. Her mother has been giving her disapproving looks all night while everyone else around her does what they're told. She pushes her plate away with a pout sitting against the back of the chair. 
“Y/n, you’re not getting anything else,” Sherry warns her. “So you eat that or you go to bed hungry.”
“Hungry,” Bunny supplies and Mike smacks his lips. “I can go to bed hungry.” 
“No, you’re going to sit and eat the food, even if you have to be here all night,” Mike steps in. He’s been dating her mother for a year. Long enough for him to think his opinion matters in htis household. Apparently, it does. 
“I don’t want it,” Bunny looks ot her mother pleadingly. She slams her fork against the table. 
“See that’s the problem,” Mike says. He looks to Sherry to back him up. “She does what she wants. No one else here acts like this but her. You need to whoop her ass and then make her eat it. Don’t give her a choice. Eat the food. I’ve said it not her. I’d like to see you give me attitude like you do her.” His tone of voice isn’t welcoming or loving at all. His words push Bunny into action. She mashes her fork into the mashed potatoes, forcing herself to swallow them down between her tears. She doesn’t like peas. Her mom knows that. “When I was growing up I wasn’t allowed to tell my parents what I would or wouldn't eat.” Mike goes on and on. 
Bunny shovels more and more food into her mouth, finally pushing the plate away before she can finish. 
“I don’t want to,” She whispers. 
“Come over here a second,” Mike beckons her over. Bunny looks over to her mother for help but Sherry clearly agrees with him. Bunny reluctantly stands from her seat to come to Mike. “I can tell you have an attitude with what I told you right now.”
“I don’t,” Bunny shakes her head. “I just don’t like it.”
“Every time I come here you don’t like it and she lets you get away with it,” Mike frowns. “She worked hard to make you food and you sit and act very ungrateful. She already gave me permission to whoop you. I just haven’t yet. I think tonight I might have to.”
“No,” Bunny shakes her head. 
“No, what?” Mike asks. “Everyone else at this table is sitting here. You’re the only one that has a problem. You always have a problem.” 
“I don’t have a problem,” Bunny balls her fist unconsciously as her feelings get the best of her. Why was it such a big deal for her to eat? She doesn’t want it. She’s not hungry. She can just go to her room like always. 
“And you’re balling your fist up at me,” Mike is angry. “What are you going to hit me or something?” He stands, towering over Bunny, as he gets a bit closer to her face. “Don’t you ever ball your fists up at me or I’ll show you what it really means to be grown since you want to act like it.” Bunny’s tears come faster now as she tries to calm her breathing. “Now, I gave you a chance to sit there and eat, and you didn’t.” Bunny can see her siblings sitting, avoiding her gaze, as she receives her punishment. “Go, and sit down. You’re going to sit here until everyone is done.” He instructs with a poke to her chest. Under normal circumstances, Bunny would have rubbed the aching spot. Instead, she rushes to her chair, with her head down. She rubs her arms, hoping to keep quiet, as she cries. 
She can tell it’s making everyone else at the table uncomfortable but she doesn’t care. 
It’s another half hour when Mike lets her go to her room. She felt all cried out as she tucks herself into the wall against her bed. She pushes her thumb into her mouth, eyes squeezed shut, as she hopes to shut out the rest of the world. Somewhere far away she can hear Faith enter their shared bedroom. She’s too far gone to respond to her. 
She doesn’t feel like herself. Her headaches. Like a constant pressure that can’t be relieved. Bunny cries herself to sleep for what feels like the millionth time in her life. 
*******
Over the years, as the pain never leaves her, Bunny finds those fleeting moments to bring her comfort. When she can calm down and not think about anything else but what makes her feel good. She does it more often as she becomes older. Her brain feels younger with the same constant ache. 
When she’s adopted by Natasha and Wanda she tries to hide it. She really did. She would hide in her bedroom whenever she felt like she needed a moment to herself. She would suck her thumb, and count the tiles on the wall, or sing a song to herself in her head. Everything she wishes she had someone else do for her. Bunny is a few months shy of her sixteenth birthday when she finds a viral video of breastfeeding on her Facebook page. She passes over it once before scrolling back up. She’s entranced, intrigued, and startled by the feelings inside of her. She listens to the narrator talk about the bond, the nutrients, and the emotions it brings forth for both mother and child. She finds herself for the first time in her life upset by something so innocent. She slams her laptop closed, leaving it to rest on her desk, as she returns to her homework. 
Days past and her interest only grows
Why did it make her feel this way? 
Some nights, Natasha or Wanda would tuck her into bed. She’d find comfort in the form of cuddling with her mothers. Her nightmares seemed to be getting worse. Other nights, Bunny would allow herself to regress. She learned that word a while ago. She doesn’t know how old she is when it happens. She only knows that being in this space made her feel better. It felt safe. No one could hurt her when she felt like this. 
Bunny’s cravings for comfort only grew. She would research and watch videos and research more. Whenever she had a long day, she would find a blanket, and cover herself, pushing her thumb into her mouth and imagining it was her Mama. Her eyes popped open at the new revelation. Her interest was something entirely different. She wants it. She needs it. She’s too old to want something like that though. If someone found out they’d make fun. Another thing on the list of things wrong with her. So Bunny’s desire goes untouched. She’s content with her thumb-sucking and her imagination for now. 
Until one night, she’d had a particularly bad nightmare. She’s been crying out in her sleep, sweating dripping from her forehead, as she thrashes around. She’s ripped from her dreams by a cool compress against her forehead and another hand caressing her cheek. She opens her eyes to find Wanda’s understanding ones looking back at her. Her eyes flash over to the lamp on her nightstand that’s been turned on. 
She whimpers. 
“Shh, sweet girl,” Wanda gives her a soft smile. “Mama’s here. You had a nightmare.” Her voice is sweet honey to Bunny’s ears. Bunny doesn’t move, she simply watches Wanda work around her before the other woman crawls into bed with her. Bunny doesn’t hesitate to tuck herself into Wanda’s arms. She lays her head directly onto Wanda’s breast, using it as a soft pillow, as she cries to herself. “Hey, it’s okay.” Wanda traces patterns into her forearm. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me and Mommy.”
“Mommy?” It’s the only word Bunny can mutter. 
“She’s out on a mission, a last-minute thing,” Wanda explains. “She had to but she misses you a lot. Don’t you miss her?”
Bunny nods. She’s too afraid to speak. She doesn’t know if speaking will help her right now. 
“You’re not very talkative tonight, huh?” Wanda doesn’t find a problem with that. “That’s okay. We can just lie here.” At Bunny’s shift, she knows there is a problem. She can feel the way Bunny’s fingers trace along the hem of her shirt. She raises it up enough for the young girl to touch the entire expanse of her belly. “It’s called skin-to-skin. A lot of babies do it to bond with their mothers.”
“Me?” Bunny says. Her limited vocabulary is a bit concerning to Wanda but she chalks it up to her being sleep deprived. 
“If it helps you,” Wanda encourages. “I think of you as my baby already.” She shrugs. “We all need something to ground us sometimes.” Wanda’s words soothe her. She talks about any and everything as Bunny’s movements stop. Her hand now lies flat on Wanda’s belly, just inches away from her breast, as the girl falls asleep again. 
Wanda doesn’t think of the moment again. In the morning, Bunny is back to her talkative and loving self. She eats with Wanda, watches a movie with her, and even takes a dog on the walk. There’s no indication of her nightmare last night. There usually isn’t. When Natasha returns home, Bunny is in her arms before she can drop her bags. 
“I missed you that’s all,” The teen says when Natasha gives her a surprised look. 
It’s a week later when Natasha discovers what’s on her laptop. She’s come into the girl’s room to put her laundry away. She places folded clothes in their appropriate drawers before she goes to leave. Bunny left it open to go and shower before they left for the Avenger’s Compound. Tony was having a family picnic of sorts. Natasha isn’t intentionally snooping. She simply wants to close the laptop when the headline of the article catches her eye. 
Breastfeeding Mothers and inducing breastfeeding. 
Natasha reads over the line a few times. Was Bunny pregnant? No way. They would have noticed. So why was she looking at this? Natasha doesn’t find it weird. No. Not at all. She just doesn’t understand. She decides to leave the laptop alone and maybe mention it later. 
At the picnic, Bunny sits with Lila and Cooper as they catch up with each other. From time to time, she glances over to Thor and Jane’s newborn baby. He’s a couple months old now. Jane is none the wiser to Bunny’s longing looks as she feeds baby Elias with a blanket for privacy. Natasha on the other hand does notice it. 
What was going on with her?
Natasha mentions it to Wanda later on in the night. 
“I’m telling you, she was staring quite hard,” Natasha pushes the covers back on the bed so she can climb in. She’s talking to Wanda who is standing in the bathroom brushing her teeth. Her only responses thus far have been “yep” and “oh wow” as she listens to her wife’s theory. 
“I don’t think she’s pregnant but I’m concerned,” Natasha finishes. Wanda peeks her head from the bathroom to look at her. 
“If you’re really that concerned we can talk with her,” Wanda shrugs. She doesn't see the big deal. A teenager being curious about such a natural part of life didn't concern her. 
“No, I don’t know,” Natasha tries to figure out what is going on with you. “It’s not like anything bad can come from it? I guess. I’m just curious about the reasons behind her being so curious, you know? Nothing serious.” 
“Well, we can keep an eye on her and if it becomes a thing then we can say something.” Wanda flicks the switch in the bathroom. She climbs into bed with Natasha. She cuddles into her and Natasha automatically wraps her arms around her. 
It’s totally become a thing. Bunny’s behavior, in general, has become a thing. No, there’s nothing she’s done wrong, but Wanda’s began to notice things. Like how she leaves her blanket and Bunny II lying around the house, or how her taste buds have certainly regressed to that of a three-year-old, and sometimes at night, she wants to cuddle with her more. She doesn’t hesitate to press herself into Wanda’s side and rests her hands against Wanda’s bare belly. Wanda notices the increasing glances to her chest. 
It’s kind of hard to miss when anyone does it but when a sixteen-year-old girl does she’s concerned. So she brings it up to Natasha. 
“Could she be wanting to breastfeed?” Wanda asks one day while they’re in the kitchen. At Natasha’s look, she throws the idea out of the window. “I know it sounds crazy but that may explain it.”
Natasha thinks for herself. All of Bunny’s behavior would explain it. 
“You might be right Wanda but what do we do with that?” She’s just as lost as her wife. “I don’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad about it.” 
“We do so gently,” Wanda sighs. “With care and with compassion.”
“You always know what to say,” Natasha murmurs into Wanda’s neck as she sits on her lap. “I love you. I love the way you love her.” 
“I love you too,” Wanda replies. 
How could they help? By doing research. 
Natasha and Wanda both did research. Together and separate. They came up with no links at first until Natasha stumbled upon something called age recession. Most research was geared towards children of younger ages. Bunny’s situation is different. Entirely different. With all of the tools they needed, they decided to let things happen naturally. If outside help was needed they would seek it but for now, they wanted Bunny to come to them. 
The moment arises when Bunny has another nightmare. This time she’s reserved and more into herself than before. They can’t get her to calm down no matter what methods they try. Until Wanda remembers how much skin-to-skin contact has helped before. She rips her shirt over her head and tosses it somewhere across the room. She’s now in her bra and sleep shorts. 
“Bunny, I’m going to help you take off your shirt now,” Wanda says hoping to get through to the young girl. “Can you nod your head if you hear me?”
Bunny gives a slight nod but doesn’t offer anything more. She allows Natasha and Wanda to take off her shirt before she rushes into Wanda’s waiting arms. She lies her head directly on Wanda’s chest as she struggles to breathe. Feeling Wanda’s warm skin against her arms and chest, calms Bunny considerably. The ache in her head is at the forefront of her mind but she tries to push it down. 
“Mama,” Bunny hwimpers and Natasha shushes her from behind. “Mommy.”
“We’re both here this time,” Ntasha assures her. Bunny continues to cry in theri arsm. When her breathing is back to normal, Natash ais the one to bring it up. “Bunny, how old are you right now?” She wonders if this is the right question as bunny stiffens.
“Sixteen,” Bunny answers. 
“Do you feel sixteen?” Wanda tries again. There’s a silence as they wait for Bunny’s answer. 
“I don’t know,” She’s panicking again. “I don’t know. I do but sometimes i feel younger. Like I need more.”
“More than what we’ve been giving you?” Natasha guesses and Bunny nods. “I’m not mad. Mama isn't mad either. I found your breastfeeding articles.” Bunny begins to remove herself from Wanda’s arms but she’s stopped by Wanda’s tighter hold. “We’re not mad baby. We just want to understand you.”
“I’m sorry,” Bunny whimpers. “I made it weird. I’m weird.”
“You’re not weird,” Wanda frowns. “You’re not weird for wanting it either. Do you age regress?”
Bunny shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She answers in a small voice. “It’s not like how I’ve seen. I don’t know. I don't want to dress up like I’m younger or do all of those things I don’t know.” She can feel herself becoming worked up again. “I don’t need to. I just sometimes it makes me feel better.”
“What makes you feel better?” They’re allowing her to lead the conversation in whatever direction she needs to. 
“Sucking my thumb,” Bunny confesses. “And my blanket, and Bunny II. I still feel like myself but younger. If that makes sense. I still am fifteen but I just need more.”
That makes perfect sense to them. She wanted to be nurtured and cared for. She needs that extra comfort sometimes. For some people, it was voluntary and involuntary for others. It seems that Bunny was more than aware of her feelings and what age regression looked like for her. 
“By more, do you mean breastfeeding?” Wanda questions. She can see the look of embarrassment on Bunny’s face. “It’s okay if you do.”
“You won’t think I’m weird?” Bunny looks up at her with wide eyes. “You won’t send me away? I can stop. Being that way I mean.”
“If you stop will that help?” Natasha figures this coping mechanism has helped Bunny through a lot. 
“No,” Bunny bites the inside of her cheek nervously. “I just… since I was younger I would feel different. Especially when I’m afraid. Like I needed someone to hold me and make me feel better. Like I need to be cared for. I do it on my own.” She wants to assure them that she isn’t asking for something they aren’t willing to give. She doesn’t need them to do anything. 
“But what if you don’t have to,” Wanda prods. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Mommy and I were talking,” Wanda takes a breath. “And we would be willing if it's something you want. It could be our thing.”
“A secret?” Bunny questions. 
“A good secret, Malyshka.” Natasha rubs her back.
Bunny goes over the pros and cons in her head. She’s been with Natasha and Wanda long enough to know they’re not joking. They’re being sincere. Someone finally knows how she’s feeling and she’s thinking about giving up the chance. She glances at Wanda’s chest before looking back into her eyes. She doesn’t want to make things awkward for her mothers.  
“Can I think about it?” She asks. 
“Of course.” Wanda kisses her forehead. She settles further into Wanda’s arms as she drifts off to sleep. She’s too afraid to think about it any longer. 
Bunny’s home alone with Wanda when she feels it. A sudden wave of anxiety and depression hit her full force. She doesn’t feel good enough, or competent, or anything really. She finds herself thinking bad things. Deciding that she needs a distraction, she takes Bunny II along with her to find Wanda. She finds the redhead in her usual spot on the couch with her knees up as she reads a book. 
“Mama,” Bunny stands against the back of the couch. Wanda closes her book to look at her. “Can we?” She asks. Another wave of anxiety hit her. She’s afraid of Wanda’s answer. Wanda doesn’t need to ask what she’s talking about as she places her book on the coffee table. With a wave of her hand, she gestures for Bunny to come around the couch and lie with her. The positioning is awkward until finally, Wanda decides to lie on her back, with Bunny in her arms. She starts by pushing up her t-shirt. As if Bunny can feel the nerves from her, the girl moves to get up. 
“No, stay, baby,” Wanda encourages. She lifts her t-shirt further up to expose her breasts. Bunny’s eyes immediately drop to look. “You want this?” Wanda asks one last time and Wanda nods. She could do this. With her left hand, she guides Bunny’s head to her chest. She uses her other hand to guide her dusky nipple to closed lips. Bunny’s nervous. She can tell. “It’s okay, baby.” 
Bunny’s lips part, giving an experimental lick before she gently takes the entire bud into her mouth. She suckles weakly, at first, trying to get a feel of it for herself. When she finds she’s more sated than she’s ever been, her suckling becomes stronger.
 Wanda gasps at the sensations and emotions running through her. She’s never felt so close to or loved by her child before. Bunny, a bit startled by the noise, raises her hand to cover her face in embarrassment. Wanda doesn’t like this. She removes Bunny’s hand placing it in the valley between her breasts. She runs her fingers over Bunny’s cheeks and hair. 
“Open your eyes, b.” Wanda waits patiently for thick lashes to flutter and for furrowed brows to straighten as Bunny looks at her. She only feels love as her baby girl looks at her completely satisfied and safe. “Good?” Wanda asks and Bunny nods. She never stops her suckling as she closes her eyes to fall asleep again. 
Her feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and everything else were washed away by the comfort of her mother’s loving arms. 
35 notes · View notes
sharpbutsoft · 2 days
Text
You Should Fear What You Already Know
7.10 Spec / T+ / 1k / Author Chose Not To Use Warnings
Buck’s always hated hospitals. The sickly smell of bleach and illness, the squeaky floors and buzzing fluorescent lights, the fact that he could never tell which was worse; being the victim or the victim’s family. He thinks he’s made up his mind about that last one today.
Sitting by Bobby’s hospital bed, Buck’s mind keeps getting stuck on how small he looks, how young. Objectively he knows Bobby’s not old, per se, but he’s always seemed so solid, so sure of himself and his place in this world. Like steel, or concrete.
Unyielding.
But Buck knows what repeated application of stress can do to steel, to concrete, to strong men. He’s seen it first hand; never needed to see it again.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says, taking Bobby’s pale, fragile hand in his own. It’s warm to the touch, calloused like Buck’s own, but smaller, and that feels wrong. Nothing about Bobby should be smaller than Buck. “Every coma is different, you know? But I’m gonna believe you can until proven otherwise.”
Chim hadn’t heard anything. Buck had heard some things; not everything. But Bobby’s heart stopped, and Buck’s heart stopped, and maybe that’s the common denominator, the link between them. It’s a little hope, but it’s the only one he’s got.
“You- you said the other day, after I made lunch, that your work here is done. And at the time I- I was excited ‘cause I really tried, you know?
“I put everything into that meal, just like you do, and it must have worked. You looked so happy, after just one bite. And I was so proud of myself-“ Buck sniffs, wipes at his face with the back of his hand. “I was proud, ‘cause I’d impressed you.
“But I’ve changed my mind. You’re not, okay? Your work can’t be done, Bobby, ‘cause I made your lasagne for Tommy today and I don’t know what happened but the sauce, it was too thin, you know? I need you to show me again.” 
Buck squeezes his hand again, then relaxes it. The last thing Bobby needs is a bruised hand if… when he wakes up.
“I know you can hear me, okay? Because I heard you. After the lightning, in my coma dream. I heard you praying for me and- and I came back to you. So now it’s your turn, Bobby. I’ve seen what a world without you looks like and I can’t go back there. I won’t.”
Bobby’s heart monitor continues to beep, steady as a funeral march, not a stutter in its pace to indicate he’s heard anything Buck’s said. The low wheeze of the vent accompanies it, a nightmarish harmony. Buck wants to wake up.
He wants to wake up and see Bobby, whole and well and smiling and alive. But Buck is awake and Bobby might never be again and it’s the most unimaginable pain he’s ever felt.
Worse than the radiation scare in the tunnel - at least then Buck could talk to Bobby. Could wave off his concerns with gentle - and not so gentle - words. Could walk and talk and make them breakfast and smile. 
Could call Buck overprotective with an eye roll, and a warm hand on his shoulder.
“I lied to you, then,” Buck admits between clenched teeth. “You weren’t the same, in my coma dream. You- you were dead.” He whispers the word, like speaking it aloud could invite the possibility of it into the room. “You were dead, because you relapsed.
And the team never noticed how bad it was getting, because I wasn’t there to provoke you, I guess. After the plane went down.”
Buck laughs humorlessly as he remembers how even in his own head, the thought of Bobby not being there nearly killed him too. 
“I think my brain might have over-inflated my importance in your life, honestly, but it- it devastated me. And I still- I can’t-“ The tears come rushing back from somewhere so deep, so dark that Buck’s not sure they’ll ever stop once they spill. “I won’t live without you, okay? You know better than anyone how stubborn I am, Bobby. So you better come back to us.
“Your work here’s not done, and it’s never going to be done. Athena needs her husband. The 118 needs their captain. May and Harry need their dad, and I-“ 
That’s the thing, isn’t it? That precious, unspoken line they’ve never crossed. 
Because no one’s ever cared for him like Bobby has. No one’s worried about him, and protected him, and loved him with exasperation and anger and fear and joy so big and bold that Buck’s always been scared to look at it too close, let alone reach out and claim it. 
Now he might be too late.
But if there’s any part of Bobby that can hear him through the haze, then Buck’s going to be brave, gonna take the chance. He’d give all his blood, his plasma, his marrow. Any organ they could wrench from him he’d give to Bobby in a heartbeat, in the space between them.
Seems only fair to give him the title that goes with it.
“I need my dad, too. So, wherever you are, come back?” Please?”
-
Title is from Plastic Flowers by The Front Bottoms, don’t listen to it unless you wanna cry
I’ll post it to Ao3 later once I have it edited ✌️
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Accidentally In Enemies : Epilogue (S.CB)
Word Count : 1.4k
Warnings : swearing probably, accidental bullying, minor argument, obsession kinda, honestly pretty fluffy with minor angst
A/N : It's finally out! Now that I have completed this story, keep your eyes peeled for Minho's! I hope you enjoy the last installment of Changbin's love story!
          Watching her angrily get out of the car and walk towards the house brought back memories of their school days. He couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face as he thought of how they ended up here like this. “Oh now you’re smiling? You’re insufferable, Seo Changbin.”
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            “You’re insufferable, Seo Changbin.” She spat at him, holding back her tears. There were so many things he wanted to say, but his mouth couldn’t form any words. They died at the tip of his tongue. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, only silence followed. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
            “I don’t want to.” He spat out, earning another glare from her. To her it seemed like he enjoyed making her life miserable. As if he was only alive to torment her, tease her. Like he enjoyed seeing her barely holding on, barely blinking her tears back.
            But that’s not what he meant. He never meant to make her life a living hell. He never meant to be a pain to her. She intrigues him, draws him in unlike anyone else he’s ever met before. Some would say it was just that: intrigue, interest, curiosity even. Just wanting to know her, learn about her.
            Changbin knew it was more than that though. From the second their eyes met while he was practically dancing on her diorama, he knew. Love at first sight seemed so childish, so surface level, so elementary. Calling it that didn’t seem to capture exactly what he felt for her. He’s still unsure how exactly to put into words what he feels for her, what he feels when he looks at her.
            He didn’t want to leave her alone because he couldn’t. It was as if she was a siren, beckoning him out to sea with her song. And even if at the end was death, he would follow the sound. He would allow her to drown him at sea if it meant hers would be the last face he’d see.
            It had to be more than love. He felt it in his heart. Looking at her brought him calm. She felt like home in a person. He would fight a thousand wars and more for her. Just for a moment of her time. It had to be more than love.
            He’s read about love in books. Watched movies about love. Seen love with his own eyes between his parents. This wasn’t fireworks and butterflies. It wasn’t once upon a time and happily ever after. This was something better. Bigger. Stronger.
            Yet he couldn’t put it into words. His mind goes blank around her and he says the wrong thing. Even now, he couldn’t even muster up an apology after ruining her laptop. Spilling a drink on it while trying to give it to her after seeing her study for hours without a break. “You’re my bad luck charm.” She mumbled to herself, trying to clean up his mess. And still he couldn’t even mutter the word sorry.
            She takes a couple steps closer to him. He can smell her perfume; it’s the one her bought for her birthday only a few months ago. The one she said was going to be her special occasion perfume, so she’ll have a scent to remind her of all the special memories they’d make together.
            Today is their first anniversary as a couple. He told her he had a special date planned for her. She got all dressed up, wearing a dress he bought her as a surprise gift, just because. It fit her like a glove, as if it was made with her in mind. Like the designer saw her and made the dress just for her to wear.
            In her mind, Changbin forgot, lied even. He’s just the same Changbin he’s always been. Living to torment her, watch her fall apart. “Does my pain bring you joy?”
            “Does my pain bring you joy?” She looked up at him, surrounded by her belongings, scattered on the floor. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, seemingly confirming her thoughts. He moved to help gather her things, accidentally kicking something further away. “I don’t know what I did to you, but please stop. I’m begging you.”
            He turned to look at her, seeing that she was still looking at him, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks. His eyes widened in realization, thinking back on all the times he’s accidentally hurt her. She’s never cried so openly like this. Not in front of him, not like this.
            He wanted to wipe her tears away. Explain everything to her. He wanted to bare his entire heart to her. Let her know that his entire existence is made for loving her. That the only thing he really knows how to do is love her.
            But he could see in the lifeless stare she gave him that she didn’t want to see him. So without a word, he walked away. No explanations, no heartfelt confession. He walked away with his hands in his pockets and his heart on his sleeve.
            He would look back for only a second, seeing a man taking his place, helping her gather her things together, and help her to her feet. A man he’s seen her with many times, a friend of hers. A friend that looks at her the same way he does, but he seems to get his words right. “Treat her well, Choi San.”
            She doesn’t know that this was all part of his plan. “No.” He answers simply. “Never has.” He reached out to wipe away her tears, the way he should have the day he accidentally tripped her. “Tomorrow, I promise I will make everything up to you.”
            She’s putty in his hands. Melting at the same touch that she used to flinch away from. Her anger melted away too as Changbin press a short kiss to her lips, asking her to give him a small smile. “I hate you.” She smiles.
            “I love you too.” He leads her inside the house they moved into recently. The first thing she sees is a trail of rose petals, and she glances over at Changbin, who was trying his best to hide what he was feeling. But his excitement was written all over his face with a wide smile and a starry look in his eyes. He told her to follow it, lightly pushing her forwards, while he walked behind her.
            The walls were adorned with lights and pictures of the two of them throughout the year they’ve been together. From their first date to the day he officially asked her to be his girlfriend to the day they moved into the house. She was quite literally walking down memory lane, taking in every small detail.
            Memory lane lead her into their backyard where there, in the middle, sat a floral arrangement that said turn around.
            Changbin was kneeling on one knee with an open box, her dream ring inside. “I’ve known since the moment I met you that this was more than love. And it’s taken me years to find the right words to describe exactly what I feel for you. I adore you. I cherish you. You complete me. You’re my soulmate and I want to spend the rest of my life adoring you and cherishing you if you’d let me. So Y/n, my greatest love, will you marry me?”
            She, in all her years, had never felt so much love. All her years loving San felt like nothing compared to this. To love San she made an effort. She held on as tight as she could, even when it hurt her, because she thought that’s what love was. Even when she knew San was slipping away, she held on tighter. She forced herself to love San.            
But loving Changbin, being with him, it was effortless. She didn’t have to hold on tightly because she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. It was as if she was born to love Changbin. Like she didn’t know anything else except how to love him. For her, there really was only one answer to this question. It wasn’t yes or no. For her there was only, “Yes.”
back to masterlist
@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @turtledove824 @moon0fthenight @dinossaurz
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bi-bi-buckleys · 22 hours
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So I’m thinking about Eddie asking Buck to talk to Chris (ie please help my son NOT be upset with me) and Bucks going to talk to Chris, obviously, but he can’t fix this. He can listen to Chris and be there for him but I just don’t see that necessarily helping Eddie because Buck knows Eddie messed up. Like he didn’t intentionally set out to hurt Chris and he didn’t plan for Chris to see Kim, but it still happened. And Buck loves both of them but at this moment he’s going to be objective and if Chris says he wants to spend the summer with his grandparents, Buck might gently suggest to Eddie that that might not be such a horrible thing for both of them. They can spend some time apart to heal from this and then find their way back to each other. But see Eddie’s hurt and upset and Buck’s the guy who fixes things, and Buck can’t fix this, and so I’m not saying Eddie’s gonna rage and scream at Buck, but he’ll just kinda be silently hurt and resigned (hence the isolation Ryan talked about) and think “wow you’re agreeing with the one thing I never wanted” because to Eddie, it’s just Chris leaving because he doesn’t want to be with Eddie. I’m saying all this from personal experience, of being the child who had to spend some time away from a parent, and that parent was hurt by it and they couldn’t see how it was better that way and only temporary. And I’m older now so I can see both sides, how that’s terrifying to think you’re going to lose your child. I can’t be mad at Eddie for how he’s going to feel in that situation. I feel so so strongly for him, but I also feel very strongly for Chris needing some space and being hurt because I get it. I also feel for Buck because he’s being put in a hard position and will want to help both of them. It’s a rough situation for all of them.
This is also why I don’t think it’ll lead to Buck choosing Eddie over Tommy because 1) you can care about and be there for more than one person shocking I know 2) again, the isolated thing 3) Buck’s gonna need his own support system, because Buck will do his damndest to be there for Eddie and care for him, but he’s gonna need someone outside of all of that to be there for him. He’s gonna hurt for Eddie and Chris, and Tommy has already proven he wants to be there for Buck. Plus you can’t live inside of someone else’s pain, you can’t always take all of that on. I can see it as “I’m here for my friend as much as I can be, as much as he’ll let me, but I’m also going to make time for this new relationship that makes me happy.” There’s been talk about how Tommy’s good for Buck and I think there’s a reason that that’s been a topic, he’s going to need something good.
Unpopular/unhinged theory time: I can ALMOST see Eddie reaching out to Kim. I know. That’s not great. But he’s probably lost Marisol, he’s “losing” Chris (temporarily), so it’s almost like fuck it, may as well. He’ll call her or visit her to thank her for trying to help, she’ll apologize, he’ll say it’s not your fault, they’ll get to talking, it’s a bad idea they both know it buuuuut… I’m just saying. That would be so insane. I’m kinda here for it.
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numptypylon · 2 days
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hi numpty i re-read your cottage cuddles au and it’s really faster and cheaper than therapy, in general, I wanted ask if you are continuing to write a sequel? no rush or complaints, it's just one of my favorite stories and I'm curious. thank you!
It’s ongoing, yeah. It’s been half-written for YEARS, and it’s not even supposed to be very long, I just accidentally wrote a prequel instead and then a bunch of other stuff 😅 I wrote words on the sequel within the last week though, it’s not abandoned, just these days are ridiculously busy, ALL my fandom endeavors are on pause right now. It means a lot to hear you return to the fics, I wrote them to be comforting (pain can be comforting, leave me alone XD)
All the sequel teaser are in the [where the heart is] tag and I’ll post more soon 😊
I also have a few other cottage cuddles fics in the works, at least 2 far-future ones, one wedding based and one first day of school for cottage kiddo and Callum both (he'll return to uni in his 30s). I'll probably post a teaser of the wedding fic next wip wednesday, it's too late for today.
Have a teaser of the sequel though! You thought the sequel would be sexy? Nah, it be dumb. Very very dumb XD under the cut bc mildly nsfw but mostly very dumb
“Um. It’s… just… been a while. For me.”
“Callum. Dummy.” She cupped his cheeks. “We live together. I know it’s been a while. I know I joked about… how good I am at sex but… I’ve never had sex with you. I don’t expect to know everything or for you to. I like you a whole lot, and we’ll make it work if you have the two-penis phenotype, you know I’m flexible in the penis-count department-”
He sputtered, choking on a bit of toothpaste, and the nervousness lifted like magic, because laughter was like that and… Rayla was like that.
“I love you,” he said, relishing in saying it, in letting it spill over as it came to him instead of getting bottled up inside him like a heartfelt-speech-timebomb. “And my junk is… very average. Average size and amount of everything. My hands are big, and I know there’s a stereotype, but it doesn’t hold up, in my case.”
“So you have 1.928 balls? Plenty of men have less than two, and more than two is a lot rarer-“
“Median!” he laughed. “I have a median amount of everything!” Rayla had so resented her obligatory statistics class she had resolved to use it in her daily life because it was so irrelevant to her work life. “Now, who’s a dork?”
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fortheloveofexy · 9 hours
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Hey can you recommend any fan fics where The Foxes interact with their new freshmen after Aftg ends? Or other fics of Neil being a savage ?
Thank you 🙏🏼 ❤️
hello!! sorry it took me so long to reply to this, I haven't had much time to pull any recs together until now.
Also, just an FYI - I'm not the best at making rec lists as I often forget to bookmark the fics I like and I'm terrible at remembering fic titles too. That said, if anyone else has some suggestions for fics like this, please drop them in the replies!
never quite silenced - Stickballl (Rated G, 3.2k)
When asked for a reason why it was happening, Neil shrugged and muttered a simple I don’t know. It had to be the stress of championships. But Neil knew and each glance at the calendar made the anxiety worse. He’d ignored the anniversary for as long as he could. He thought he’d be fine with it. The past two years hadn’t bothered him, but it was like his body was finely attuned to it and made it a mission to make sure Neil remembered.
Stay With Me - Lostintheuniverseslies (Rated E, 97k)
Neil had let Andrew say goodbye to every important person left in Palmetto while he stood on the sidelines and cheered Andrew on. There was only one goodbye left and it would be the most painful one. It seemed as though it was finally hitting Neil too. They only had twenty-seven days together and then Neil would return to Palmetto alone for the first time since Millport. They spent the first year after everything healing. Now they have to learn how to navigate being away from each other while Andrew is off playing in the pros and Neil is still at Palmetto finishing his fifth year. Things aren't easy. They never seem to be for them but they're fighters. And they always come out on top.
this red is for you - Ominous (Rated T, 10k)
Katelyn never considered herself capable of doling out violence. It has always been a far away thought, dampened by college courses and late night dates with her boyfriend. She lives a stereotypical life, despite everything she's been through with Aaron. Aside from her growing connection with the notoriously troublesome Foxes, nothing much about her life has changed. Even then, she's learning she's still able to surprise herself. When Katelyn witnesses Neil defending Andrew, her own protective rage rears its head, ready to be explored. And maybe that's a good thing.
Deadly Affections - NikNak22 (Rated T, 12.2k)
Neil Josten is not soft- has never been in fact. But when an unintended comment from one of the Foxes throws Neil for a loop, he finds himself reminding them why no one should think of him in that way. But why is Andrew suddenly so distant? And what happens when all of these reminders of his past start to catch up with him? Aka: all the times Neil proved he was a badass, and Andrew reminds him he's an idiot.
take a long look, this is my good side - seasy33 (Rated T, 3.9k)
After an incident the night before has Neil showing up to practice with a bruised face, some of the newer Foxes get curious. When Nicky lets it slip that it was Andrew who blackened his eye, they decide to get involved. Neil handles it.
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quietwingsinthesky · 4 months
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the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head
#i still find myself not caring if the metacrisis doctor couldnt use one. he can because i said so and because donna shouldn’t get amnesiaed#alone.#but anyway. even. its just something about like.#here is your best friend. the man who showed you how big the universe could be. its still him human or not. its still the doctor.#can’t call him that. have to watch your tongue always because no matter how familiar their faces are. these two people do not remember#everything you did together and never can. at least they still love each other. nothing could change that. that’s what matters. you steer#them into each other’s lives so carefully and watch to see if they’re going to get hurt. but they don’t. it’s okay.#and still. and still. you carry your best friend’s life. everything that he is. you can hold it in the palm of your hand. he gave it to you.#he entrusted it to you. well. that’s not entirely true. technically you volunteered. but how else could you say thank you.#you made your world so so small again. for him. larger than you would’ve been used to once but you know what galaxies feel like to fly#across. and now you’re stuck in time and space. this is for love too. this is for the life you hold in your hands.#or wear around your neck on a chain. and because you chose this. you can never see him again. or you see him every day and he doesn’t#recognize all of you.#that would make anyone desperate wouldn’t it? make you do something stupid. make you turn to someone you shouldn’t.#even makes bad choices when they are cornered. i think.#dw oc#the important bit is of course that the only way they can ever get rid of it is by their own choice. which they never would choose to do.#(because tentoo won’t take it back. he’s his own person. impressions of the doctor influencing him. but the part of him that is donna doing#so as well. a whole new person. who does not want her memories back and to be unmade.)#but the point is that the moment even takes it. they will never let it go. they will lose it. on painful occasion. but it always finds its#way back. depending on the context this presence and responsibility is either comforting in its constancy.#or. in a less kind world. a horrifying reminder of how far they have fallen from who they tried to be for him.
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skinnypaleangryperson · 6 months
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How cocky and playful and boyish Rick is is always such an instant swoon ❤️❤️ the eyebrow raise and that smirk. I hoard them like a goblin
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cynopoe · 9 months
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cuteniaarts · 2 months
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Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl
17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019
#my art#artists on tumblr#I cannot accept that it has been 5 years already#I know covid messed with everyone’s sense of time but it simultaneously feels so much longer and so much shorter than that#exactly five years ago I was holding onto my mom for dear life and sobbing as we watched lilo and stitch together#not the best movie to watch when you’ve just lost your first ever pet you know#and then I cried myself to sleep at the next morning we never mentioned her again#I know it’s because it was way too painful for everyone involved. but I do wish I was allowed to process that grief properly#instead of bottling it up and pretending everything was okay until I was reminded of her#feeling like my heart was being shattered over and over again every single time#well anyway. enough of that. I’ve allowed myself a nice long cry today and got most of it out of my system#and once I was feeling okay I decided to draw her#and I can count the number of times I’ve drawn animals on one hand so.. I’m not too sure about the result#but it felt like to commemorate her in some way.#so yeah. here she is. my dear girl. the best dog in existence. she was always so affectionate and kind#which I didn’t always appreciate bc of how young I was. when you’re a kid it feels like pets will live forever#never barked. never bit anyone. her only crime was chewing on my mlp and lps toys that I left out on the floor#but I’m grateful she did that. it taught me not to leave my toys lying around and to clean up after myself#she really was taken from me way too soon. ideally she could still be alive right now. but I’ve been down the road of guilt and regret#there was nothing I could do. I was a child. I can only hope that she knew she was loved right until the very end#even if I didn’t know how to show it properly. and great. now I’m tearing up again#I suppose it’s unavoidable. April 12th will always be a melancholy day. and maybe that’s not such a bad thing#it’s good to have a day when I can freely remember her and cry if I need to. it’s healthy. it’s better than crying every day#she never liked it much when I cried. always tried to comfort me. that’s the kind of dog she was. I miss her so much#when I move apartments and get a dog of my own I’m getting a spaniel. just like she was#well. maybe a different colour so I don’t end up sobbing every time I look at it. but spaniels really are the perfect breed#I mean. cavaliers especially were bred for love and warmth. that’s just what I need. it will be nice to have someone waiting for me at home#and while I don’t necessarily believe in the afterlife… I do hope that Fanny’s watching over me#spiritually comforting me when I feel all alone in the world. it’s a nice thought for sure#and hopefully she won’t mind me getting another spaniel too much. it will be done in her honour after all. to make up for my past mistakes
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