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#i could go on with this list like. it is not exhaustive
katebishopsbaefy · 3 days
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Shoot Me
billie eilish x reader
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𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚
summary: you and billie both get your periods at the same time and are the definition of miserable
word count: 1219
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You roll over with a groan, pressing your face back into your girlfriend’s side, clutching your stomach. You feel her arms wrap around you. She obviously wanted to feel you as much as you wanted to feel her.
You and Billie had been unfortunate enough to get your periods at the same time, so now here you lay, sprawled on your bed, clutching your stomachs, groaning occasionally. Somehow you’d managed to not only lose track of your heating pads, but you’d also completely run out of pain relief medication, and neither of you felt well enough to drive to the store to get some.
Billie gently kisses your forehead when you press into her. She grunts as she reaches one arm over to the nightstand to check her phone, muttering out a low “shit” upon seeing the many texts and missed calls from her brother, who she was supposed to meet up with today.
You rub your eye and look up at her. “What’s wrong?” you mumble.
She swings her arm back over to hug you tighter, deciding to deal with Finneas later. “Nothing,” she whispers, starting to rub your back. You hum at the touch. “How’re you feeling?”
You grumble out something about feeling like shit, but it comes out muffled due to your face pressing further into her. Your hand finds its way underneath her loose t-shirt in search of more comfort.
This time, she hums at your touch. The weight of you laying on top of her serves as a weighted blanket, and although it’s comfortable, it doesn’t do much for her cramps. “This sucks,” she states. You hum in agreement.
Your short conversation is interrupted by multiple aggressive dings from her phone. She groans again and reaches back over, checking the new texts from her brother.
“Who’s that?” you ask.
She lets out a huff. “Finneas,” she mumbles, “I forgot I was s’pposed to meet up with him today.”
You whine and grip her tighter in response. “Mmm, don’t leave me.”
“I don’t think I could go anywhere even if I wanted to,” she says, giggling quietly at you.
She hadn’t realized that she forgot to respond to him yet again, getting distracted by you, until the sudden alarm of her ringtone and buzzing of her phone forces her to finally respond. You both jump at the sound before she answers. You can hear a faint “hello???” from the other end.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you,” Billie says, exhaustion lacing her voice. “I’ve been asleep all day, me and y/n have the worst cramps ever.” She shifts a little and waits for Finneas to respond. “Actually yeah, that would be super helpful if you have time.” Another pause. “Can I send you a list?” Short pause. “Okay, great, see you later.”
The loss of her warmth makes you groan as she flips you off of her to sit up. “What’d he say?” you ask.
“He said he has some time, so he’s gonna pick some stuff up for us,” she responds. Taking your shared blanket with her, she gets out of bed. You groan for probably the 500th time, but she ignores you and grabs your arm, effectively dragging you out of bed too. “Come on, we’re gonna go sit on the couch.”
“Just shoot me instead,” you mumble. You clutch your pillow to your stomach and trudge your way down the hall with her to the living room. 
She laughs at your remark. “At least we get more time to hang out,” she says, gently bumping her hip with yours. You smile at her and bump her back.
It feels like an hour has passed by the time you make it to the couch. You flop down, immediately leaning into Billie’s side, and you feel her do the same. She sits up for a moment to wrap you in the blanket again before snuggling back into you. “Wanna watch something?” she asks, to which you shrug, and she flicks on a random channel.
You completely lose track of time sitting with her. You have no idea what show’s playing, being too distracted by her hands, which you had taken into your lap. Fingers laced together, palms pressed, her warm hands warming up your cold ones. You’re so spaced out playing with her fingers that you don’t realize you’re starting to fall asleep until she giggles at you.
“Sleepy?” she asks. You look up at her, noticing her eyes starting to droop as well.
“No,” you whisper, reaching a hand up point at her jokingly, “are you?” She shakes her head.
At some point, you had both begun to shift around, so uncomfortable from your cramps. When Finneas arrives at your place, he finds you passed out, sprawled on one side of the couch, gripping your pillow. Billie hogs the blanket on the other side, and your heads meet in the corner. He smiles and snaps a quick picture to send to you later. 
He quietly makes his way over to your kitchen, careful not to make too much noise with his bags. Ice cream, chocolate, and other comfort foods are unloaded into the fridge. Despite how quiet he tries to be, the soft rustling is enough to wake Billie, who quickly sits up and pads over to him, dragging her blanket behind her. “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” she says quietly.
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Go sit back down.”
“But I feel bad,” she mutters. She plops down onto a seat at the kitchen island, resting her head on her arms.
Finneas slides her a container of pain medication over the table, which she gratefully accepts, downing a couple of pills. “If you wanna do something…” he says, rifling through the bags, “go pop these in the microwave for a minute.” He pulls out two stuffed animals, unzipping them from the back to take out the pad to be heated up. Billie audibly sighs at the sight.
“Oh my God, you’re literally a life saver,” she breathes. After heating them up, she makes her way back over to the couch, where you’re still sound asleep.
“Y/n,” she whispers, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes flutter open and you smile at her. “Hi, my love. I’ll trade you,” she says, referring to the pillow you’re still clutching. You gratefully switch with her, pulling the stuffed toy to your stomach and letting out a breath at the relief it provided. “Better?” she asks, kissing your forehead softly as your eyes close again.
You hum. “Thank you,” you say to her, and, louder this time, “thanks, Finneas.”
He and Billie talk for a little longer, deciding to make up the work they were supposed to do another day, and she thanks him excessively, to which he shrugs every time. Then he leaves, leaving the two of you alone again.
As she sits back down, she pulls your head into her lap. Her hand in your hair, yours on her back underneath her shirt. A few short minutes later, your fingers stop tracing patterns into her skin, and she knows you’d fallen back to sleep. She scoots around, getting more comfortable before falling asleep too.
No matter how shitty you felt, she always made you feel better.
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Bad Guy 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can’t seem to unhook himself from your life.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Note: don't act like you don't want a meanie
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The stump of the cone drips down your fingertips as the car jolts to a stop. You lurch against your seatbelt and hold up your hand and cup the other beneath, trying to keep the melting mess concentrated. Chris cranks the shifter as he idles in front of your mother’s house. 
“Hey, told ya not to get that all over,” he sneers. 
“Sorry, I...” you utter. “I’ll get out.” 
You balance the cone with one hand you do your best not to smear the mess as you unbuckle the seat belt. He huffs as he turns off the engine and his own belt recoils sharply. You glance over as he gets out and slams the door. He stomps around the car and wrenches open your side. 
“Out, now,” he barks. 
You obey and climb out, stepping up on the curb to examine the front of your shirt. He snaps the door shut and snarls again. 
“Keep pushing your chest out like that, someone might just take it as an invitation,” he grits. 
You wince and look up at him, hunching your shoulders. He makes everything you do a crime. As if you’re intentionally trying to offend him. 
“Well, thanks for the ride,” you mutter. “I’ll just go--” 
“I’m comin’ with ya. Mom’s waitin’,” he insists. “Sure, she’s real worried about you. Girl your age can get up to all sortsa trouble, can’t she?” 
He points you up the slanted walk and you glare ahead. Your eyes hurt as they long to roll. He walks beside you, crowding you on the thin blocks of pavement. As you get to the steps, he reaches over and taps your ass. 
“Go on, get up,” he orders you. 
You squeak and hurry up the steps. You just want to get away from him. He probably wants the same thing with the way he speaks to you. 
You wrench the door back with your free hand and angle inside. He catches the door behind you, brushing close as he follows you inside. You feel a tickle on your lower back and hurry up. 
“Gail,” Chris calls past you. 
There’s no answer. You don’t worry about it. Most of the time, your mom isn’t home when you get in. It never bothers you as you like having the house to yourself. 
You go into the kitchen and toss what’s left of your cone. You rinse your hands and ignore the man as he trudges around your house. Your mother’s squeaky hinge whines and he comes back out with a harrumph. 
You dry off and go back into the front room. He’s not far behind as he flops onto the couch with a growl. You peek over as he pulls out his phone and taps on it with his thumb. He jams the screen so hard you expect it to crack. 
“See where you get it from, huh,” he scoffs. “Damn woman.” 
You quickly flit away before you can hear any more of his gripes. He just seems the type to look for anything to be mad about. You might be a cynic, but you’re not an asshole about it. 
You change out of your uniform and toss it into the basket by the door. You’re annoyed. If he had driven a bit slower, you could have worn it at least one more time. 
You shimmy out of your pants and pull on some linen shorts and find a loose tee patterned with sunflowers. You stretch out on your bed and put on the next episode of your serial addiction. As you settle in, you hear him moving around in the kitchen. 
From what you can guess, your mom isn’t even there. She tends to do that. Just wander in and out whenever it suits you. If you were less of an introvert, you might have actually gotten in trouble as a teen with so little parental supervision. Come to think of it, she seems to have lived your teenage rebellion for you. 
A pounding on the door shakes you from your Netflix-induced trance. You sit up and sigh as you go to the door. It’s bad enough he’s getting in the way of your late night snacking but not he’s interrupting your binge. 
You crack the door open an inch and look out, “she’s probably down at Jim’s,” you say. 
“I didn’t ask that,” he brings his hand up to grim the door frame. “Did I?” 
“No,” you frown. 
“'No, sir,'” he wags his index at you. “You should try a smile. Be a lot prettier if ya did.” 
You blink. The only response you have will only piss him off. You clamp your lips tight and shrug instead. 
“There’s shit all in the cupboards.” 
You squint and shake your head, “okay?” 
“I mean, you can figure it out, can’t you? Man’s gotta eat.” 
You tilt your head in confusion, “what?” 
“Don’t tell me ya can’t cook neither. What kinda man’s gonna want a woman can’t do nothing?” He snorts. 
“I-- I don’t want to,” you blurt out. “Cook for yourself.” 
You push the door but he slaps his hand against it and forces it inward, “what did you just say, girl?” 
“I... you’re here for my mom. Go down to Jim’s and tell her to cook--” 
“You’re right. I’m here ‘cause your mommy’s a slut. Any other man stick around, huh? Pay for her bills? Her food? Don’t sound like men to me, and you,” he grabs your chin and you whimper, “don’t speak like much of a lady.” 
“Let go of me,” you smack his wrist, “ow.” 
“See, I knew your mama isn’t shit. The way she acts, shoulda figured you’d be the same.” He yanks you into the hall, “don’t worry, I’ll teach ya manners, girl.” 
“Ah, you’re hurting me--” 
“What do you think your husband’s gonna do when you get mouthy, huh? I’m saving you a lot of hard lessons,” he shoves you past him and you hit the wall with your shoulder. He snaps his knuckles against your ass. “I saw a box of macaroni, think you can boil some water or is that too much for that empty head of yours?” 
“What is your problem?” You turn and lean against the door. “I didn’t do anything and... and...” your words fizzle out as you see the way his icy eyes sear. You gulp. “Why are you so mean?” 
“Mean?” He laughs, “keep talking and I’ll put you over my knee. Now take your ass to the kitchen and make some dinner. I know you ain’t some child eating ice cream for supper, hm? Can’t be walking around like that.” 
He reaches for you and tugs the hem of your tee, letting it go so the fabric springs back up and you feel air flow along the underside of your tits. You quickly cross your arms and try to dissolve into the wall. You stare at him, annoyed but frightened. It occurs to you that he’s a lot stronger than you. 
“Well, you gonna walk around dressed like a woman, may as well be one,” he points down the hall. “You won’t like me when I’m real hungry.” 
You peel yourself off the wall and cower as you pass him. You feel his gaze on you, as oppressive as his presence. You bite down on your lip, as much to keep your thoughts inside as to keep from screaming. You should’ve known that one day your mother would bring home the wrong sort. Well, she always does but they can’t be bothered to stick around. 
You enter the kitchen and go to the cupboard. You search around for the sole box of mac and cheese. That’s your insurance policy. Your mother rarely grocery shops. She only ever goes to the bar or the liquor store. She drinks, she doesn’t eat. 
You grab a pot and fill it with water. As you light the burner, you glance over your shoulder. Chris stands in the doorway, watching, like a warden in a jail. You add salt to the water. You step back and wait for it to boil. The silence scrapes your ears. 
You sway listlessly and another growl rolls up his throat. He clicks his tongue. “Must get good tips down at the ice cream joint, huh? Wearing your cutoffs like you're at the beach.” 
You turn and frown, “...what?” 
“Nah, nah,” he shifts to stand inside the door, leaning his back on the wall, “not ‘what’. You say, ‘sorry, sir, my sweet little head’s empty and I don’t understand. Please explain to me what you mean.’ 
Your lips part and you stare at him. He snickers. 
“The way you look at me, I know you don’t got much going on in there, do ya, girl? So let’s think. You go down to the parlour in those jean shirts, wagging your ass as the boys, and they toss you a couple dollars extra. Hell, I bet those pudgy-bellied dads with all their regret and whiny brats like ya too.” He sniffs and his eyes pinpoint, “keep that up, you’ll find out how much you could make on a pole, flirting with all those greasy dicks down at Bunnies.” 
You recoil at the mention of the strip club. The very thought makes your skin crawl. And your shorts aren’t that short. Your boss said they’re just fine and it’s so hot out in the summer. 
“Shouldn’t flaunt it if you’re not selling it,” he says. 
You stare at the floor and drop your arms, tugging the hem of your shorts to make sure they aren’t bunched. “Sir, I’m not... flaunting it.” 
“Coulda fooled me.” He exhales loudly. “You wanna end up like your ma?” 
No, you don’t want to end up with a man like him. You keep that thought to yourself. You shake your head and take the box of the macaroni. You tear off the top as the water starts to boil. 
“So maybe you should take some advice from someone older and wiser. Do you know what your mama’s problem is?” He asks. 
You shake your head again. You dump the noodles into the water. You go to the drawer and open it to grab a wooden spatula. As you do, he shuts it on your fingers. You yelp as he keeps your hand trapped. You look up at him as he stands close. 
“She can’t hang onto a man. She’s too easy. No guy’s gonna take care of a fucking mess like her. And what good is she without a man lookin’ after her? Living in this hellhole with some deadbeat daughter--” 
“That’s...” you whimper and squirm as you try to free your fingers. “Ow, please--” 
“It is true,” he insists against your unspoken protest. “Whatcha think you’ll be doin’ in another few years? You’re gonna age out and those tips are gonna dry up like sand.” He taunts as he leans in, “and you’re only happiness will be at the bottom of a glass--” 
“Stop. Please,” you beg as the drawer crushes your knuckles. You can’t bear it anymore. You put your hand on his hard stomach and push. “Ow! It hurts--” 
He lets up on the drawer but only to grab your arm. He twists your wrist around and you bend with the angle of your arm. He has you facing the tile as he hyperextends your elbow. You whimper and wiggle your throbbing fingers. 
“See, a woman don’t just need a man to take care of her,” he puts his hand on your ass and brushes up your shorts. “He needs to discipline her.” He pulls his hand away and the drawer rolls open. “And I know your mama didn't do none of that.” 
He rests the spatula against your ass and you twitch, “sir, please, I wasn’t--” 
“Either you shut up and take it like a good girl or each noise means the next one’s harder,” he swings his arm back then forward. The wood strikes your ass in a radiating crack. Your legs tremble and you yowl. “Now what did I say?" 
He spanks you again with the spatula, this time on the other cheek. You grunt behind your teeth and reach back with your other arm. He raps your knuckles with the wood and you recoil. You bend your arm to your chest and he swats you again. Your ass burns from his cruel force. 
He does it again, and again, and again. You try not to make a sound but the whimpers fall out of you. Your arm strains from the angle and his unyielding grip, your ass pulsing in agony. The spatula thwaps down over and over until your eyes are streaming and all you can muster are hollow gasps. 
He lets you go and you crumple to the floor, holding yourself on your hands and knees. He whips the spatula down to it hits the tile and bounces. You wipe your face and look up at him. The air smells like fire. He sighs as his eyes drift to the stove, the water boiling over. 
“Fuck damnit, girl,” he tuts, “figure it the fuck out.” 
He shakes his head and marches out of the kitchen. You stare after him, breathless and battered. You can’t believe he just did that.  
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rootedinrevisions · 2 days
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Unplanned Journeys: Part 2
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SUMMARY: The journey through pregnancy unfolds as you and Jake navigate each milestone together. From the nerves at your first doctor’s appointment to the tender moment when Jake notices your baby bump for the first time, everything feels more real with each step. At the anatomy scan, you find out the gender, sparking sweet discussions about names and the future. As you work together to set up the nursery, Jake’s suggestion to move in makes your growing family feel even more complete. Finally, the big day arrives, and after an exhausting labor, you hold your baby in your arms—marking the beginning of the next chapter of your life.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST one more part to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.
WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.
WORD COUNT: 4.2K
TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 
If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!
The sterile scent of the clinic filled the air as you sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping your foot against the tiled floor. The crinkle of a magazine in your lap was the only thing distracting you from the tight knot in your stomach.
It was a familiar setting—nothing new about doctor's offices, after all. I mean you'd been to the doctor's before. But today felt different. Monumental.
Jake sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles. Every so often, his gaze would flicker over to you, checking in silently. His calm presence should have grounded you, but the nerves were relentless, pulsing under your skin. This wasn’t just any appointment. This was the first time you’d be seeing your baby.
“Breathe,” Jake murmured softly, his voice low so only you could hear. “You’re squeezing the life out of that magazine.”
You glanced down, realizing your knuckles were white as you gripped the edges of the glossy pages.
You let out a shaky breath and loosened your hold, giving him a small smile. “I didn’t even notice.”
“I did,” he said with a teasing grin, but his eyes were soft. “It’s gonna be okay.”
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to feel that same confidence radiating from him, but the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. What if something was wrong? What if—
The sound of your name being called jolted you out of your thoughts. You stood up, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, and Jake rose with you, his hand slipping into yours. His grip was firm, reassuring, as you followed the nurse down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.
The exam room was small but cozy, with pale blue walls and an exam bed in the center. The ultrasound machine sat next to it, and just seeing the equipment sent another wave of nerves washing over you. This was really happening.
The nurse smiled kindly, gesturing for you to take a seat on the exam table. “We'll have you go ahead and undress from the waist down. You can lie back and make yourself comfortable. The doctor will be in shortly.”
As you lay back, the flimsy paper sheet thing they had given you covered your midsection down to your thighs. Your stomach twisted with anticipation. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but Jake was there. He took your hand, his thumb tracing small patterns on the back of your hand.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, his voice steady and calm. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”
You nodded, swallowing hard. You wanted to believe him—to trust that everything would be fine—but the uncertainty still clung to you.
Moments later, the doctor entered, a friendly smile on her face as she introduced herself. She explained what would happen at this appointment in a calm, soothing tone, but you barely registered the words. Your mind was too busy spinning with possibilities. Would there be a heartbeat? Would everything look normal?
The doctor dimmed the lights and began preparing the ultrasound machine. Your breath hitched as she spread the cool gel across your abdomen, and you instinctively squeezed Jake’s hand a little tighter. His other hand moved to brush a stray hair from your forehead, his eyes never leaving yours.
“You ready?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out. You’re not in this alone.”
His words gave you just the slightest bit of comfort, enough to make you nod as Dr. Bennett pressed the probe gently against your belly. The room went silent for a moment, the sound of the machine whirring softly in the background as the image on the screen flickered to life.
And then you heard it.
A soft, rhythmic thump. Steady and strong.
You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. There it was. The heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat.
“There we go,” the doctor said with a smile, her eyes focused on the screen. “Everything looks good so far. Strong heartbeat.”
You stared at the monitor, unable to tear your eyes away from the little flicker of life that appeared on the screen. Your baby. It was so small, just a tiny blip, but it was there. Real. Alive.
Jake’s hand tightened around yours, and when you looked over at him, you saw the same awe mirrored in his expression. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his usual confident, laid-back demeanor replaced by something softer—something you had never seen before.
His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. He was just as overwhelmed as you were.
Tears pricked at your eyes, the emotion of it all finally hitting you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding in until this moment—until you saw the heartbeat, heard that steady rhythm, and knew that everything was okay.
Jake finally spoke, his voice quiet but filled with awe. “That’s… that’s our baby.”
You nodded, too choked up to speak, the tears spilling over. Jake’s hand moved from yours to gently brush them away, his touch tender and reassuring.
“Hey,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
You nodded again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear or doubt. It was because you finally believed it. Everything was going to be okay.
The doctor smiled warmly, snapping a few images for you to take home before wiping the gel off your stomach. “You’re measuring right on track. I’ll see you again in four weeks, but everything looks great.”
As she left the room, Jake turned to you, his eyes still wide with disbelief but now filled with a quiet kind of joy. “That was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”
“I know,” you whispered, your heart still racing from the rush of emotions. “I can’t believe it either.”
He reached out, gently placing a hand on your stomach, where the gel had just been wiped away. His touch was soft, reverent, as if he was afraid to press too hard. “We’re really doing this, huh?”
You covered his hand with yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Yeah,” you said, your voice full of wonder. “We really are.”
Jake smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache with affection. And for the first time since finding out, you felt the panic slip away. You were scared, yes—but with Jake by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came next.
Together.
* * * * *
You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped loosely around your body as you brushed your hair, your reflection catching your eye more than usual. Something had changed. It was subtle—barely noticeable unless you really looked—but it was there. The soft curve of your belly, just below the towel line, had begun to take shape.
You placed your hand on it, fingers tracing the gentle swell. It felt strange, unfamiliar, and yet… there was something deeply comforting about it. A quiet reminder of the life growing inside you, inching its way into the world.
Jake was in the other room, probably scrolling through his phone or flipping channels, oblivious to the tiny moment of realization you were having. The baby bump hadn’t fully registered with you yet either, but standing here, in the soft morning light filtering through the bathroom window of his place, you couldn’t deny it. Your body was changing. The bump was there.
Part of you wanted to hide it for a little longer, to savor this secret for yourself. But a bigger part—one that was filled with excitement and curiosity—wanted to share it with Jake. To see the look on his face when he realized just how real this was becoming.
After drying off and slipping into one of Jake’s old t-shirts, you wandered into his bedroom where he was sprawled on the bed, head propped on one hand as he absentmindedly flicked through a football game.
You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched him. He didn’t even notice you at first, too engrossed in the game. But eventually, he must have sensed your gaze, because he turned his head, his eyes finding yours instantly.
“Hey,” he said, grinning lazily. “What’s up?”
You hesitated for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before you took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed. “I… I want to show you something.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
Your heart fluttered with nerves, but you moved to stand in front of him, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your frame. You took another breath, then lifted the hem of the shirt just enough to reveal the small, gentle swell of your belly.
Jake’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, his breath catching as he stared at the bump, the soft curve that hadn’t been there before. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—he just looked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. Not just any smile—one of those rare, breathtaking smiles that lit up his whole face, eyes crinkling at the corners, as if he’d just discovered something truly magical.
“Is that…?” he started, his voice soft with awe, before trailing off. He reached out, his hand hovering near your belly like he was asking permission.
You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.
His hand made contact, fingers splayed gently over the bump, as if he was afraid to press too hard. He rubbed his thumb lightly against your skin, tracing the small curve with a mixture of wonder and joy. It was like he couldn’t get enough of the moment—couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was real.
“That’s… that’s our baby.”
You smiled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked down at him, his expression so full of love it made your heart ache. “Yeah,” you whispered back. “I'm starting to show.”
Jake shook his head slightly, still in awe, his hand moving slowly over the bump like he was trying to memorize the feel of it. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your stomach. “I mean… I know we’ve been talking about it, but seeing this—it’s real, isn’t it?”
You nodded, feeling the same mix of disbelief and excitement swirling inside you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It’s real.”
He looked up at you then, his eyes shining with emotion. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Even more beautiful than before.”
A warm flush spread across your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, Jake stood up, pulling you gently into his arms. His hands settled on your waist, his thumbs brushing the bump as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I can’t believe I missed this,” he said with a small laugh, his lips still close to your skin. “How long have you noticed?”
You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest as you let out a quiet laugh. “Not long,” you admitted. “I only really noticed today.”
Jake pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. “Well, I’m glad you showed me,” he said, his smile still lighting up his face. “I don’t want to miss any of this. Not a single second.”
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. “You won’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re in this together, remember?”
He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips—soft and sweet, filled with all the emotions neither of you could quite put into words.
As the kiss ended, Jake’s hands found their way back to your belly, his fingers brushing over the bump again. He looked down, his face full of wonder as if he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“This is crazy,” he murmured with a small chuckle, shaking his head. “But it’s also… amazing.”
You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It really is.”
Jake wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you close, and for the first time, the two of you just stood there, holding each other, feeling the tiny life growing between you. It was a quiet, beautiful moment—a shared realization that everything was changing, but in the best way possible.
* * * * *
The soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small exam room as you lay back on the table, Jake seated beside you, his hand tightly holding yours. The lights were dim, and the air was thick with a mix of nerves and anticipation. You weren’t sure if it was the faint chill of the gel the technician had spread across your belly or the fact that in just a few minutes, everything would feel a little more real.
Jake squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing small circles into your palm, silently telling you that he was right there with you, just as anxious and excited as you were. You turned your head to look at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile on his face, though his eyes were glued to the monitor in front of you.
“Alright, let’s take a look,” the technician said, her voice calm and friendly as she moved the ultrasound wand over your belly. The screen flickered with shapes and shadows, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filling the room, a rhythmic thud that made your own heart skip a beat.
Jake’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as both of you stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the images. The technician moved the wand slowly, explaining the different parts—the baby’s head, arms, legs. But the moment you’d both been waiting for was still ahead.
“Are you ready to find out?” the technician asked, her eyes flicking between the two of you.
You nodded, biting your lip, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside you. Jake leaned closer, his eyes wide with anticipation.
The technician smiled, and with a small movement of the wand, she pointed at the screen. “Congratulations,” she said softly. “You’re having a baby boy.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, sinking in. A boy. You felt Jake’s hand tense, then relax as a slow grin spread across his face. He glanced at you, his eyes shining with pure, unfiltered joy.
“A boy,” he murmured, the words barely audible, as if he was saying them more to himself than to you.
You smiled back at him, your heart full. “Yeah,” you whispered. “A boy.”
Jake let out a small laugh, his free hand moving to rest on your belly, his thumb brushing over the slight bump. “A little man,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I can’t believe it.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the relief and excitement finally washing over you. Everything felt a little more real now, a little more tangible. You had a son—a baby boy who was going to turn your entire world upside down in the best possible way.
After a few more minutes of watching the baby wiggle on the screen, the technician handed you some printed images from the scan, and soon you and Jake were heading out of the clinic, stepping into the cool air of the parking lot.
The ride home was quiet at first, the two of you still processing the news. Jake’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, the soft buzz of the radio playing in the background. You glanced over at him, noticing how he was still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You’re really excited, huh?” you teased, though the warmth in your voice gave away just how much you loved seeing him this happy.
Jake glanced at you, his smile widening. “Hell yeah, I’m excited. We’re having a boy. That’s… that’s huge.”
You nodded, feeling the same excitement bubbling up again. “I know. It’s crazy.”
A comfortable silence settled between you, but you could feel Jake thinking, his mind already racing ahead. And then, almost predictably, he asked the question you’d been waiting for.
“So,” he started, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity, “have you thought about any names?”
You let out a small laugh, turning to look at him. “Of course I’ve thought about names,” you said. “I’ve been scrolling through Pinterest boards for weeks now. I’ve got a whole list.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear ‘em.”
You pulled your phone out, scrolling through your saved baby names. “Okay, well… I’ve always liked the name ‘Caleb.’ It’s kind of classic but not too common, you know?”
Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Caleb’s nice. What else you got?”
“Uh, let’s see… there’s ‘Wyatt,’ ‘Eli,’ and ‘Noah,’” you said, rattling off a few more names you’d saved.
Jake seemed to consider them for a moment, but then he let out a soft chuckle. “Those are good,” he said, his tone warm. “But, uh, I was kind of thinking about something more… I don’t know, meaningful? Maybe a family name.”
You raised an eyebrow, curious now. “A family name?”
Jake nodded, glancing at you again. “Yeah, like… well, my granddad’s name was ‘Jameson.’ I always thought that was a strong name. And my dad’s middle name was ‘Robert.’”
“Jameson Robert,” you repeated, testing it out. “That’s pretty solid.”
Jake smiled, clearly pleased. “Right? It sounds like a name you could grow into. A name with some weight behind it.”
You couldn’t help but grin at how serious he sounded. It was clear Jake had already been thinking about this—probably long before today. “I like it,” you said. “But we don’t have to decide right now. We’ve still got time to figure it out.”
Jake nodded, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of carrying on some of the family names. But I’m open to anything.”
You smiled, leaning back in your seat as you watched the landscape pass by outside the window. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said softly. “Besides, we’ve still got a few months to pick the perfect name.”
Jake chuckled, glancing at you with that easy, warm smile of his. “Yeah,” he said. “But I’m calling it now—he’s gonna be a little Jameson.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that.”
The rest of the drive home was filled with easy conversation, tossing baby names back and forth and laughing about which ones definitely didn’t make the cut. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, the excitement of the day settling into something quieter, something deeper.
By the time you pulled into the driveway, the two of you hadn’t landed on a final name, but it didn’t matter. You still had time. What mattered was that you were in this together—building a family, one moment at a time.
* * * * *
You stood in the small bedroom of your apartment, surveying the space that had felt cozy just a few months ago but now seemed increasingly cramped with the realization that a baby was on the way. Jake was pacing the floor, tossing around ideas for rearranging the furniture, while you tried to mentally picture how everything could fit.
“What if we move the dresser to the other side?” Jake suggested, pointing toward the corner where a floor lamp barely fit. “Then we could push the bed over, and maybe…” He paused, considering the layout again. “I don’t know, it just feels tight in here.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, it’s going to be a challenge. I wasn’t exactly planning on having a baby when I moved in here.”
Jake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and looked at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said slowly, “I was thinking… maybe you could just move into my place.”
You blinked, surprised by the suggestion. “Your place? But we’ve only been together a few months, and now with everything that’s happened…” Your voice trailed off as you considered the implications.
He straightened up, stepping closer. “I mean it. My place has two bedrooms. We can easily turn one into a nursery, and I want you and the baby close to me. We could be a family.”
The warmth in his voice sent a flutter through your chest. You searched his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. “Are you sure? This is a big step. We haven’t even been together a year yet.”
Jake nodded firmly, the look in his eyes unwavering. “I know it’s fast, but I want to do this together. I want you both with me. I don’t want to miss a moment once he gets here.”
Your heart swelled at his words, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooding you. “It’s just… a lot to think about.”
He reached out, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I get it, but we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this. We can make it work.”
As you melted into his arms, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The idea of moving in with Jake was both daunting and exhilarating, but deep down, you knew he was right. It would be good for all of you.
Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes, your smile growing. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Jake’s face broke into a wide grin, and he lifted you off the ground in excitement. “Really? You mean it?”
You nodded, laughing as he set you back down. “Yeah, I mean it. I’m just as scared as I am excited, but I want this. I want us to be a family, and I want us to be together.”
Jake’s smile softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Then it’s settled. Let’s make it happen.”
You felt a rush of happiness as you both embraced again, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, you had each other. You could build a home together, and soon enough, you’d be welcoming your little one into the world.
* * * * *
The day had stretched into what felt like an eternity, filled with anticipation, exhaustion, and a whirlwind of emotions. You lay in the hospital bed, beads of sweat on your forehead, clutching Jake’s hand tightly. He was your anchor, whispering words of encouragement and squeezing your fingers every time a contraction rolled through you.
“You’re doing amazing, babe,” he said softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. His voice was a calming presence amid the chaos, and every time you met his gaze, you felt a surge of strength.
Hours passed, and the pain became almost unbearable, but you pressed on, motivated by the thought of finally holding your baby in your arms. You could feel the excitement in the room as the medical staff prepared for the final moments. Jake stayed right by your side, never leaving you, his eyes filled with concern and love.
Finally, with one last push, the cries of your baby filled the room, piercing through the haze of pain and exhaustion. Your heart raced as you heard that precious sound, a mixture of relief and joy flooding through you. The nurses gently placed the tiny bundle on your chest, and you looked down, tears brimming in your eyes.
There he was—your son. His little face, scrunched up and wailing, filled you with a warmth you had never known. You glanced up at Jake, who was beaming, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight of his son for the first time.
Jake leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s perfect.”
You smiled through your tears, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and pride. “Look at him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s ours.”
Jake nodded, his eyes glistening as he gazed at the two of you. “We’re a family now.”
In that moment, nothing else mattered. The pain of labor faded into the background, replaced by an all-consuming love for this tiny human that you had created together. You felt Jake’s hand wrap around yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leaned in to share the joy of this incredible moment.
As you cradled your son against your chest, the world around you fell silent. It was just you, Jake, and your beautiful baby boy, the three of you beginning this new chapter together.
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jesswritesthat · 2 days
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Bakugou Katsuki: Model Student
Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]
Summary: 2k+, fluff
• When you’re sent to assist designer Bakugou Mitsuki, you get more than you bargain with both food and explosives.
Warnings: Mature language, slight spoilers, Class 3A
>>>>——————————>
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When Bakugou Mitsuki 'politely demanded' that you accept a long term job on behalf of her fashion company you couldn't exactly refuse -not that she'd let you- but like your other modelling contracts, it wouldn't disrupt your hero studies aside from spending your free time at her home. The only unexpected factor, was her infamous son.
"WHO THE HELL IS THIS?"
You practically jumped out of your skin, the measure wrapped around your waist was left unattended as Mitsuki slapped the demanding newcomer upside the head.
"Manners Katsuki! This is (L/n) (Y/n), they're the model for my latest assignment."
"Nice to meet you." You gave an awkward wave, attempting to keep the tape in place as you did so but he did not seem impressed, only scoffing and walking away (regardless of the infuriated scowl his mother painfully engraved into his retreating figure).
"I apologise on his behalf, being apart of U.A's latest Big Three went to his head a bit but he's grown a lot since his first year with everything that happened. Still a moody 18 year old though." The woman forcibly laughed whilst resuming her work. Presumably he was home for the break like you, but worked at an agency to fill the time. If nothing else, this job assignment would be flammable.
Despite seeing him on a few visits, tonight’s encounter was the second time you’d actually spoken. Finally you got to rest, you'd tried to help as much as you could once Mitsuki got what she needed from you and she'd urged you to take a break in the lounge to prevent you from helpfully intervening and exhausting yourself.
Luckily, Bakugou was unintentionally keeping you company with reluctant conversation whilst he was cooking his dinner, you meanwhile took residence at the table scrolling through your phone.
"Have you eaten?" His lack of curses made you look up with a skeptical expression but you answered with a shrug, planning to eat once you got home.
"Not yet."
"Just because you're a shitty model, you gotta fucking eat as you don't need to—" Bakugou bit back with the stereotype, similar to that of either scolding or concern - you were uncertain.
"I do eat, I promise."
"Prove it then dumbass."
"Wha-how?" He smirked as he handed you a bowl of curry mid question, the one he'd been carefully concocting as you made idle chatter with him for the past 30 minutes. Almost like he'd planned it. Surely not.
"You didn't have to give me any, but thank you Bakugou. I’ll help clean up.”
"Tch, I made too much and I'm not wasting good food." Katsuki's tone held somewhat defensive aggression but he joined you at the table regardless, listing off ingredients and exchanging food preferences with you.
———
Over the various visits to the lovely Bakugou household, especially if your work with Mitsuki was scheduled when Katsuki was home, you’d usually have a meal prepared for you.
Admittedly you’d grown accustomed to the environment and to him, discussing hero work and exams with Katsuki over food and then helping wash up afterwards.
You’d grown more confident around him having had time to understand his personality, although the second you’d blew soapy bubbles at him you immediately regretted your decision.
You were met with a glowering crimson, floaty suds lingering on his nose, the scar on his cheek, and the front tips of his hair. Then there was the snarl and cocky smirk.
“You wanna go (L/n)? DIE!” It was accompanied by a spark of explosion angled toward the water - in such a trajectory that bubbles coated you like a snowball to the face causing you to huff in frustration to blow a couple off.
Bakugou howled manically at his retaliation, covering his mouth and pointing at you whilst you wiped the suds from your eyes.
“Ugh, take this murder god!” You flicked the remnants left on your hand at him which did nothing in all honesty. Instead a towel was thrown over your face courtesy of the blonde, which you irritably utilised. A string of curses was muttered beneath the material before you’d pulled it off, having believed you got rid of all the substance.
“Dumbass, can’t even beat bubbles.” Bakugou snorted, his gaze not having left you the entire time. “C’mere.”
You hadn’t the chance to refute, stunned by the fingers sliding across your jaw when he’d stepped forward and tilted your head with a hint of roughness that was inexplicably him. His other hand took the towel from your own and began carefully wiping your eyebrow and lower lip with a degree of scrutiny. Then he checked you for further discrepancies with more attention that you felt was required, and in order to hide your imminent flustering you delicately ran your finger across his scar to remove the last bubble there.
“You had something…”
An act that left him meeting your eyes with his own disarming ones, it felt intimate in a way like sparks were flickering alight despite no longer being connected by touch.
Just then Mitsuki burst into the main area, tape measure wrapped around her wrist and a determined gleam in her eye.
“Have you two finished dinner yet?” That’s when she took in the sight before her, you two in close proximity when directing your attention toward her but making no intention to distance yourselves. “…Because take your time, I don’t need (L/n) yet.”
Then she disappeared again, leaving you both alone in the disturbed silence. You took a step back from him wearing a polite smile and gestured toward his mother’s workspace.
“I should probably get back.”
“Hm, thanks for the help shitty model.”
Upon entering, you didn’t expect to be scolded for returning earlier than Mitsuki expected.
“What are you doing?! Get back out there, I didn’t mean to ruin— crap, I mean I’ve never seen Katsuki act— ugh it’s hopeless.”
“I’m here to work, and as amazing as your sons’ cooking is, I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.” You bowed as accompaniment, but the woman only sighed in defeat.
“Right, of course you’re only focused on the work. Just like Katsuki, how perfectly fitting…”
“Huh?”
“I said let’s finish this fitting!” She clapped her hands with a renewed determination, fabric at the ready.
———
A photoshoot showcasing the reinvented designs was your reason for a quick visit today, arriving at the Bakugou household to meet with the woman herself so you could travel there together.
Naturally, you weren’t expecting her analytic gaze to scan over your outfit with more criticality than usual, which is when you’d heard her contemplate aloud.
"I need to make some adjustments..."
"What?! The photoshoot is in 2 hours and this is all I have!" You gestured to the outfit she'd deemed perfect only yesterday, believing you'd only be heading straight to the shoot and home, you didn't see the need for a spare set of clothes.
Mitsuki shook her head, throwing a discarded hoodie in your direction before shooing you into the bathroom. Upon returning, tugging the hoodie down to cover as much as possible despite the size differences, you handed over your clothes and awaited her return at the kitchen counter with a tea warming your hands.
"Oi old hag, have you seen - what the fuck do you think you're doing in my hoodie (Y/n)?!" Immediately, the sheer ferocity in the familiar tone had you internally screaming and spinning 180 to face him.
"Katsuki! It's not - Mitsuki took my outfit for adjustments and gave me this, I didn't know it was yours!" You corrected yourself knowing he didn't tolerate excuses and skipped straight to the point, though it didn't nullify the death glare he sported.
"Whatever, you don't look like shit in it so just tell me how long she's gonna take because I need it." You missed the flush on his features after he properly looked at you, scanning over your legs which were overly exposed thanks to his item before turning away with a frustrated sigh.
"Yo Bakubro, what's taking so long - ohhh wow." Immediately the interruption had snapped Katsukis attention so fast you expected him to have whiplash.
The guy in question stood rather awestruck, hand running through his spiked crimson hair with an equally bright blush to match as his gaze landed on you.
"Not a fucking word shitty hair!" Bakugou practically threatened, skidding between the two of you with his hand moving to your side to keep you behind him.
"Dude, the others are waiting outside so we're good. I'm Kirishima Eijiro, a friend of Bakugou." Apparently a regular visitor to the house, he offered his hand whilst you sidestepped past Katsuki to meet him.
"Pleasure, I'm (L/n) (Y/n) and I'm here for an assignment with Mitsuki."
"Ah you're the not-so-annoying one he keeps talking about."
"You talk ab—" You never got to ask when Mitsuki hailed your attention.
"Done!"
The next moments happened in a blur, clothes were thrusted into your chest then an echo of voices called for 'Kacchan' who seemed panicked by their entry and shoved you into the bathroom telling you to 'hurry the fuck up'. Quickly you changed, tossing him the hoodie the second you'd cracked open the door, then came the slam from where he'd left with Kirishima after ushering the others out. All you could do was slump against the bathroom door with a sigh of exhausted relief.
———
The final session working with Bakugou Mitsuki, you’d expected it but that didn’t mean you were glad about it. You enjoyed the experience more than most jobs and you could probably chalk part of that down to Katsuki, not that you’d breathe a word of it.
Mitsuki seemed slightly despondent however, always flicking to the front door with a sense of hopefulness but soon morphing to disappointment when it didn’t open.
“What’s wrong Mitsuki-san?“
"Sorry (Y/n), Katsuki was pretty adamant about seeing you before you left so your last task wasn't really necessary but that brat must be too busy." She’d explained with a haphazard shrug, you weren’t even mad that she’d kept longer for no apparent reason due to your surprise that her son had personally wanted to what? Say goodbye? Or rather good riddance.
"Oh - no that's fine, thanks Mitsuki it was really great working with you the past month, and I hope we can do it again sometime. Please send my regards to him."
The sheer amount of wind caught you off guard as you walked through the near deserted neighbourhood toward the station after your final farewells, a faint sound of blasting echoing with a familiar figure abruptly skidding into your path. He still donned his hero gear so you assumed he shot over the moment he was released from his internship, the man now standing proud with his arms folded expectantly.
"What that's it? You're done?"
"Yeah, I have to get back to my internship too. Why?"
You couldn't fathom why Katsuki seemed so disturbed by this, his expression wasn't as aggressive and there was a distinct flash of disappointment in his eyes that he was quick to morph to ferocity.
"I don't have to cook extra anymore."
"I thought that was accidental?" You quipped back, knowing you were already on thin ice.
"Just didn't want you feeling guilty dumbass."
"My hero..."
"Shut up shitty model! You're your own hero, and I'll beat your ass in the ranking once we graduate." He’d growled, leaning closer to you and desperately trying to keep his voice down.
"Such a sweet talker Katsuki, too bad it'll never happen~"
"LIKE HELL YOU'LL—argh?!" The playful punch to his chest quietened him, your confidence and gratitude shining through as you held your fist in place whilst speaking.
"I'm glad I got to know you, I can't wait to work with you in the future."
"You're at the top of my list too - so long as you don't get in my fucking way." A gloved hand took your fist and intertwined his hand with yours like in an arm wrestle, giving it a challenging squeeze.
"Please, you'll be in my way."
The two of nodded in agreement, touch slipping from each other with the last brush of your fingertips feeling like a spark.
Then you were gone, and the fire burned brighter than ever.
———
This was the U.A. dormitories, the sign read 'Class 3A' so you knew you were in the right place but that didn't calm your jittering nerves at all. Yes you'd kept in contact and it was guaranteed that he was going to scold you for showing up unannounced but it remained unknown whether it'd be a serious one or a usual temper flare.
Amping up your false confidence, you walked in albeit hesitantly and your unfamiliar presence was immediately noticed.
"Good evening, oh and welcome - um can I help you find someone?"
"That'd be great, I—" The kindness radiating off of the green haired hero was relieving, but a sudden burst of sparks slid before you rather eagerly which stifled your reply.
"I can do it, anything you need I'm your guy! Kaminari Denki by the way beautiful."
"Kaminari! Don't leave me behind like that - ohmygod you were right, it's the hot model from the magazines. They're so attractive and a hero, what I wouldn't do—"
"Mineta! Stop being - AAHHHH it's (L/n) (Y/n)!" The pinkette squealed wholeheartedly once chastising her classmate.
A clutter originated from the kitchen the moment your name was mentioned, the others hardly concerned with the noise but rather far more interested in you.
"Sorry to show up uninvited like this, but thank you all for welcoming me." Gratefully you bowed to the group, many fussing prior to a harsh interruption causing them to part.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Heeyyy Katsuki..." Your tone seemed more awkward, he noticed the way you went to step toward him but second guessed your situation and took a step backwards instead.
“They know each other?”
“No way, they couldn’t be acquainted.”
Even with the muttering of his classmates, you gave a charming smirk and Bakugou heaved a defeated sigh but made an unexpected proposition anyway.
"I'm starting dinner for these shitty extras, so you should stay (Y/n)."
"Don't I need permission?"
"You think we're gonna argue with Bakugou? He never wants people over - let alone asks them to stay! None of us are missing this." An ecstatic blonde eagerly answered with thumbs up.
"Shut it Pikachu!" Katsuki stalked off in the direction of the kitchen gesturing for you to follow once Mina had taken your jacket. You thanked the pretty pinkette, following his lead when you heard the class collectively panic for you.
"This was the scent on Bakugous' hoodie remember? The one we couldn't pinpoint." Mina whispered to Kaminari, the two concocting rather scandalous explanations but ultimately decided their explosive friend wouldn't have the charm to date a model.
"Noooo, not in there whilst he's cooking. He'll kill you." Sero gingerly tapped your shoulder to halt your journey and you only smiled at him oh so innocently - clearly you did not know the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou.
"I'll be fine, I'll help prepare dinner as a thanks for having me here." The response only earned silent prayers, Mineta literally on his knees praying whilst Izuku released a barely audible squeak.
Inconspicuously, the class subtlety watched as you strolled in, purely intrigued by your unbreakable will to die - yet their discoveries were earth shattering.
"Hey, can I help?" A touch to his shoulder.
"Tch, my cooking not good enough for you anymore shitty model?" An elbow to your side.
"Your food is the best I've ever tasted which is why I want to learn from the best dumbass." The playful teasing which seemed commonplace for the two of you whilst you chopped vegetables.
"I missed you, fucking disaster."
"Well I am rather delightful, it's no wonder~"
"I take it back, you're still annoying as hell." This time his usual uncaring demeanour returned, cold words in tow and it only softened your resolve.
Leaving the vegetables on the chopping board, you carefully leaned into his side with a nudge as a form of embrace rather than hug him.
"I sort of missed you too Katsuki, but sorry for intruding." It was quiet, but genuine, and he couldn't help but reciprocate with his cocky attitude melting away replaced with a content smirk.
"S'fine, glad you did." Katsuki pulled away slightly to face you properly and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, finding himself looking at you like he’d done when covered in soap. Only this time, there were no imperfections to find.
Maybe this time…
At this point, the redhead returned from his evening jog to find the majority of his class crouched down and discreetly peering into the kitchen area with Jirou using her earphone jack to relay the conversation. Kirishima knew Bakugou had decided to make dinner tonight and no one would be brave enough to step foot in there, so the whole ordeal was honestly baffling - that is until he casually walked up to the counter without a care for his furiously protesting classmates attempting to drag him down to their level.
"No way, (L/n)-chan is here?! How've you been, long time no see!" He cheerily called, nodding to Katsuki and yourself who instantly parted from each other and received agonising cries from his peers who were hoping for a token of affection.
"Damn it shitty hair!" Katsuki cussed, sporting a glare appropriate for the self entitled ‘murder god’ whilst you hopped over to the shark-tooth hero equipped with an excited greeting.
"Hi Kirishima! Great to see you again."
“Huh? Was I interrupting something?”
Yourself and Bakugou exchanged a neutral glance, ready to answer ‘No’ but didn’t get the opportunity when a booming unanimous reply of irritation came from the entirety of 3A.
“YES!!”
<——————————<<<<
[ Masterlist ]
113 notes · View notes
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Forever
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@loose1cannon Thank you so much for your request! I was so hyped with the Ace one, but I need to apologise because my angsty wired brain might have made a poo-poo. I'm so sorry if it's too sad! 😫 I promise that the other part of your request will be happy, okay?? I hope you still enjoy it! ❤️
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Source for pic
Forever
Word Count: 1270
Tags: fem!reader; angst, so much angst; NSFW; feelings; hurt; sorrow; grief; spoilers for what happens at Marineford; slightly NSFW
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: It has been a year since Marineford and you still can't cope with the loss.
Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil (guys if you only want to be tagged for specific characters, please send me a message! I don't want to bother you with excessive tagging!!🙏)
|Masterlist|
Rain poured down from the skies mirroring your inner turmoil exactly. The steady downpour cast a sort of halo over your figure. It felt like a shroud. The site was eerily quiet aside from the sounds of the heavy drops crashing against the stone graves. 
And for the thrumming of your heart. 
An unsteady rhythm beating out of sync, skipping a beat now and then, as if it were missing something to make it whole. And it was.
Ace.
One year had passed since he left you, or since you lost him. Honestly, it felt like the world itself had lost him, since he belonged to everyone. He was life itself. And without him, there was only demise. 
“Did you miss me, baby?” His tongue swiped against yours in desperation while his scalding hands roamed your clothed body. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day.”
Ace was always so eager for you that his touch singed your clothes, leaving small burn marks on the hem of your shirts or on your jeans. It used to piss you off. You’d scold him saying you didn’t have berries lying around just to buy new clothes and that he should be more careful. He laughed it off, or kissed it off, murmuring that he could buy or steal all the clothes you wanted, or better yet, you could just walk naked.
A sob clawed its way up your throat and scratched it, yearning to get out, needing to be free, but you clamped it down and pushed it back into your insides to fester and rot like all the other feelings of grief, sorrow and despair. 
No more crying. No more sadness. Ace wouldn’t want that. Ace loved your laugh.
“Laugh for me, Sunbeam!” You were both lying on his bed, sheets tangled on naked limbs and sweaty bodies, heaving from exhaustion and pleasure. 
“No. I’m mad at you.” But you weren’t, you were just downcast.
“It’s just a month. I’ll be back before you know it.”
No, no. You can’t go there, this one is too painful. If only you insisted, if only you had pushed further. He wouldn’t have gone after Blackbeard and he would still be here with you. 
Your knees hit the muddied floor with a soft thud as your hands clutched your chest. Slim fingers crumpled the drenched fabric as your breath left your lips in shallow, ragged heaves. “You weren’t supposed to leave me, Ace! Not like this!”
Your arms circled your torso in the only hug you allowed yourself these days: your own. It was nowhere near enough, but then again, there would never be another hug like Ace’s. 
It was crushing, bone-breaking, suffocating. It was home. 
“Ace!”
“I’m back, baby. Missed me, Sunbeam?” With a little jump you were straddling his lap, legs wrapped securely around his waist as his hands rested on your ass. Your mouth devoured him while your fingers tangled in his unkempt greasy hair. “I guess that’s a yes.” 
That smirk. Those freckles. The mischievous glint in his eyes. 
Gone. All gone. Buried in front of you, six feet under and beneath layers of cold, unforgiving dirt. 
Alongside your heart.
You tried to stifle your moans against the pillow, but he would have none of that. Stopping that sinful lapping of his tongue and removing his fingers from inside you, he lifted himself onto his knees and threw the pillow to the other side of the cabin. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
“Ace!” You whisper with a groan of frustration. You were just about to unravel when he left you feeling empty.
“Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” He aligned his leaking tip with your wet entrance and teased, pulling a little mewl from your lips. “But way louder.”
And you did what he told you to.
Was that the last time?
There’s no stopping the tears. You tried, you really did. But they were relentless. You have a million memories from the past and a million and one memories of Ace. You can’t afford to lose any of them.
"God, Ace, why?” The clenching in your chest expands and swells, taking up all the space inside. Filling you like a balloon and you feel ready to pop. How are you supposed to survive without him? One year was already hell, how can you survive another one?
And another one…
And another one…
“Smile, Sunbeam!”
“You’re shining, love!”
“Ah, that laugh right there, I could die a happy man.”
“You make me feel worthy.”
“I can’t live without you, baby.”
“Don’t ever leave me. I wouldn’t make it.”
You didn’t leave him. You kept your promise. He was the one who left. And now how are you supposed to move on with your life as if what made you live wasn’t ripped apart from you? How is a sunbeam supposed to shine when there is no reflective surface?
How can you be light, when all you feel is darkness?
“Ace… This was never supposed to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to break me…"
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you.”
“You’re my life.”
“My happy, little Sunbeam.”
“My love.”
Getting up on wobbly legs you took another two steps forward. Your tears mixed with the rain, salt and water. Pain and grief. Hurt and sorrow. Reaching with trembling, frail fingers, you grabbed the remnants of Ace’s hat. It was torn and tattered, the beads were barely hanging on, but it was still there.
A desperate wail left your lips as you fell back down, your legs no longer supporting the weight of your misery. This time, you let the sobs climb all the way out. And you cried as you had never cried before. Sobs, hiccups and ragged breaths mingled with the sound of approaching thunder.
But none of that compared to the tempest inside. It roared, raged and crashed, drowning you in its violence, dragging you to the pits of sorrow and darkness and you had no idea how to climb out of there anymore. Not without him. 
But then there was a sudden calmness. A break amidst the most violent of storms and then the echo of a whisper, soft and unmistakable. 
“You’ll be okay, Sunbeam.”
Ace’s voice. A gentle murmur in your soul. Perhaps a conjured thought your troubled mind had made up, but you’d take it.
You clutched his worn-out hat against your chest, wishing there was still a lingering scent of him anywhere, but he had disappeared so long ago. The rain slowed down and was now just a gentle pitter-patter against the leaves and the graves. 
A sunbeam peeked from behind a dark cloud and landed on your lap, near Ace’s hat and for the first time in a year you felt a sliver of hope on the horizon. You didn’t have Ace anymore, but your love for him would never fade or wane.
Your memories together would still be a part of you.
You would carry him inside you and remember him in those missing, uneven beats of your heart. 
Maybe… just maybe, that would be enough to carry you through. 
“I’ll be okay, love.” You forced a laugh. A bright smile like the ones he used to love. “For you, Ace. I’ll fight for you.”
The sunbeam on your lap flickered, faded behind a cloud and reappeared on Ace’s grave. Hope filled you and took back some of the space that grief and sorrow had claimed as territory. You’d learn to shine again, someday…
For him. 
For Ace.
For your love.
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dystopicjumpsuit · 3 days
Text
Watch and Learn, City Boy, Part 2: Autumn
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A/N: This is a follow-up to Part 1, which I wrote last year. The muse struck on the autumnal equinox, and who am I to reject her overture? Yes, I switched tenses, and no, I’m not sorry. Enjoy! 
Pairing: Hound x Reader (Fem)
Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI) 
Wordcount: 2.8K
Warnings and tags: fluff; domesticity; language; little bit of SMUT; one (1) slap on the ass; tickling; pinning; allusions to bondage; Reader is a bit of a brat; Hound is a playful switch (I don’t make the rules); this isn't as kinky as it sounds; I made up pretty much everything about Alderaanian culture, holiday observances, and spirituality for this fic, so don’t take anything here as having a basis in canon.
Summary: Autumn has come to Alderaan, and you’re stuck on kriffin’ Coruscant. But Hound won’t let that stop you from celebrating.
Suggested Listening: 
This fic smells like: Hempz Apple Cinnamon Shortbread body lotion (autumn leaves; warm spices)
Part 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list
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Grizzer launched herself off of your mattress with a ferocious snarl before you even heard the door chime. Hound startled awake with a muffled grunt, and you sat up, rubbing your eyes groggily and fumbling for your datapad to check the security holo.
“‘S goin’ on?” he mumbled.
“Groceries,” you rasped as you crawled out of bed and slipped into a robe. “I’ll take care of it. Go back to sleep.”
Grizzer was prancing triumphantly at the front door, and she greeted you with a loud, delighted snort to let you know that she had successfully repelled the invading force and secured the perimeter.
“Good girl,” you yawned. “So brave. Gonna tell Fox to give you a medal and a promotion.”
She plopped down resolutely in front of the door and refused to budge until you had administered what she deemed to be an appropriate number of scritches between the spines on her back. At length, she shuffled out of the way so you could open the door and dart out into the hallway just long enough to retrieve your grocery delivery, silently beseeching the Force not to let your well-meaning but nosy neighbors catch you in your bathrobe. Gods knew you and Hound already gave them plenty of fodder for gossip.
Once the groceries were safely inside, Grizzer had to complete an exhaustive sniff-spection of every single bag before she would allow you to put the food away, and then she gave you a meaningful look and lumbered over to the back door. You tapped the panel and shivered at the blast of cold air that rushed in as the door hissed open. 
Grizzer sauntered out to do her business on the comically tiny patch of fake grass you’d installed on your balcony once you realized she and Hound would be staying over as many nights as they could possibly sneak away from the barracks. By the time you’d finished stashing the perishables in the conservator, she was back inside and waiting for her breakfast.
You activated the cleaning droid to deal with her mess, dumped a scoop of massiff chow in her bowl, and finally returned to the bedroom. Hound’s eyes remained stubbornly closed, but he wordlessly pulled the blankets back as you climbed into bed and snuggled your ass into the nook of his body, extending his other arm for you to use as a pillow.
Stars, he’s so warm. This is the best part of my day.
You barely had time to settle in before Grizzer hopped up onto the bed, circled a few times, then flopped against you hard enough to knock the wind out of you.
“Ugh, careful with the spikes, Grizz. Don’t you have breakfast to eat?” you muttered.
Despite your grumbles, you couldn’t resist the pleading look she shot you, and you reached down to pat her lazily as she settled her chin onto your leg with a happy sigh. Kriffin’ massiff always wants to be the littlest spoon.  
You shifted, looking for a comfortable position while being smooshed between your two favorite beings, then tucked your feet closer to Hound, trying to get warm. He flinched as he felt your icy feet against his shins, but instead of pulling away, he rested his hand on your hip and drew you more firmly against his body, then slid up your torso to cup your breast. He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your skin.
“Mornin’,” he rumbled. ”Happy equinox. I assume you've planned somethin’ festive for today?”
“Mm-hmm,” you mumbled, privately reflecting that he was using far too many words for this early on a Benduday morning. “‘S why I ordered groceries.”
He hummed his approval and began to kiss a path down your spine. “Does it involve tying me to a kitchen chair and licking a jar of honey off my skin?”
You laughed quietly and kissed the scar on his forearm that rested beneath your head. “Is that a specific fantasy you have, or are you just looking for an excuse to get me to tie you up and have my wicked way with you?”
“Two things can be true, angel.” He squeezed your breast gently, then trailed his fingertips down the centerline of your body, unerringly finding his way between your thighs. “Your feet are like kriffin’ icicles. You go on an expedition to Ilum for those groceries or somethin’?”
“Grizz was extra needy this morning,” you explained. “Mm, that feels nice. Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. His fingers slipped over your clit and into your pussy, and he shifted slightly to grind his cock against your ass. “Feel how hard you made me? Prancin’ around in that little thing you call a bathrobe. Probably gave the neighbors a coronary.”
“Nobody saw me,” you laughed, then gasped as he slid deeper. “At least I—fuck—I didn’t see anyone.”
“Grizz, off,” he ordered, to the massiff’s vocal disgust. Nevertheless, she complied, jumping off the bed with a huff of protest and wandering out of the bedroom in search of the breakfast she’d previously snubbed. “Guess we’ll find out if anyone saw you when they send a thank-you holocard. Damn, little one, you’re kriffin’ soaked. What were you dreamin’ about, dirty girl?”
It wasn’t a dream, it’s just you, you thought, but rather than inflate his already impressive ego, you wiggled your butt against his hips and replied in your most provocative tone. 
“Thorn.”
He laughed, then withdrew from between your thighs and gave you a firm little slap on the ass. You let out a shrill squeak and squirmed out of his arms just far enough to launch yourself off the mattress and tackle him, pinning him briefly and digging your fingers into his ribs to tickle him ruthlessly. 
Alas, your vengeance was short lived. After the briefest moment of being incapacitated by laughter, he managed to roll over on top of you, capturing your wrists and holding them against the pillow on either side of your head.
“Oh, you asked for it, darlin’,” he said with a wicked grin. 
The morning light caught in his eyes and illuminated them to honey gold. They danced with mischief, and you felt an odd flutter in your chest that you didn’t have enough time to examine before he pounced, and the only thing on your mind was holding on while your ARF trooper took you for the ride of your life.
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When the pair of you finally stumbled out of bed, you mentally scratched off a few of the activities you’d planned, since you were running two hours behind schedule—a sacrifice you were more than willing to make, all things considered. There was still plenty of time to visit the Alderaanian shrine of the ancestors in the Federal District and make it home in time to cook dinner—a meal that you’d been planning with meticulous care for weeks, going to great lengths to source Alderaanian ingredients that were often difficult to find in the Core Worlds.
“You sure they’ll let me in?” Hound asked as he surveyed the entrance to the temple with obvious doubt in his eyes.
“They will,” you replied firmly. “They don’t turn anyone away. If you ever find yourself in trouble and need a place to lie low, they’ll give you sanctuary.”
“Even though I did absolutely depraved things to you an hour ago?” he murmured in your ear, sending tingles of awareness down your neck.
“... Maybe don’t mention that part.”
“You know, this whole sanctuary thing sounds a little illegal,” he joked.
“Who are you, the police?”
He snorted, then allowed you to lead him inside. The temple was crowded, and not a single person recognized Hound as a clone trooper, or if they did, nobody mentioned it. Hound was fascinated by the vibrant—not to say chaotic—energy inside. 
“The only temple I’ve ever been inside is the Jedi temple,” he said. “This one is really different.”
“I imagine so,” you laughed. “I’ve never been inside the Jedi Temple, but I’ve heard it’s really tranquil. This is… not that.”
He grinned in acknowledgment. “Do you come here every equinox?”
You shook your head. “I’m not really that observant most of the time. When I’m at home, we just have a family celebration. But here on Coruscant, it’s kind of nice to come to a place where I can meet other Alderaanians. For me, it’s really more about staying in touch with my culture, but a lot of people are very devout.”
When the pair of you finally made your way through the temple and to the shrine, he followed you inside and observed respectfully but with keen interest as you lit a stick of incense and left a small offering for the shrine guardian spirit. You were in and out in under a minute, and as the pair of you rejoined the thronging crowd headed toward the exit, Hound leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“That was quick.”
“No point in monopolizing it,” you replied under your breath. “Bad form when the temple is this busy.”
The temple wasn’t the only thing that was busy. Traffic was fully gridlocked, and the trip home took ages. By the time you arrived, you were both ravenous, which was deeply unfortunate, given that you’d planned a fairly elaborate dinner. Still, you were determined to make it work and salvage what was left of the equinox. 
Grizzer was beside herself when you walked through the door. She barreled into Hound with a delighted squeal, and he knelt down for their ritual greeting. She sat patiently until he was within reach and then, with a gentleness that was wholly improbable for a creature of her size, she touched her snout against his nose.
“I’m here, too, Grizz,” you teased, and if a massiff were capable of rolling its eyes, she would have. Nevertheless, she eagerly snuggled up to you, demanding her tribute of affection.
“Do I have time to take her for a quick  run before dinner?” Hound asked.
“I think so. It’ll be a refreshing change to cook without my reptile sous chef.”
“Don’t listen to her, Grizz,” Hound said, covering the massiff’s ear holes. “She’d be lost in the kitchen without you.”
“Oh, definitely,” you agreed solemnly. “What ever shall I do without constant supervision and the in-house quality assurance expert?”
Hound gave you a quick kiss and headed out, and you set to work, swallowing down a faint feeling of disappointment that so many of your plans had fallen through. Dinner would make up for it, though. Dinner would be perfect.. Within minutes, the entire flat began to fill with delicious smells. Everything was proceeding swimmingly. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
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“Gods damn it!”
Your frustrated curse was the first thing Hound heard when he opened the door. Grizzer charged inside and skidded to a halt, prancing around the kitchen.
“Not now, sweetie,” you said, your tone softening a bit as you saw the massiff.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Hound asked.
“That karking shopper droid brought me decorative mini pumpkins instead of edible ones,” you groaned. “And to make matters worse, the pumpkin stems mutilated my Force-damned tomato.”
“Damn, looks like it got squashed,” he murmured.
“That is a terrible pun, and this is no laughing matter!”
“You’re right,” he said apologetically. “It’s an obvious case of assault with a deadly veggie.”
“Still not funny. Look at this carnage!”
You held up the mangled tomato, and he inspected it closely before gravely replying. “That’s a pretty gore-dy victim. Better shield Grizzer’s innocent eyes before she’s permanently scarred.”
You snorted, obstinately refusing to laugh. “I knew I should have just gone to the market myself.”
“Why don’t we go now?” he asked, giving up on his quest to distract you with the worst puns in the Core Worlds. “We can pick up some pumpkins that are actually edible, maybe have a little tour of the market district, get some fresh air?”
You glanced at the clock and sighed. “If we do that, we’ll be eating at midnight. I’ll figure something out.”
Grizzer whined at the sharpness in your tone, then curled up in the corner of your living room so she could keep an eye on you, sensing your frustration. You glared at the offending gourds for a moment, and would have bet every last credit of his nonexistent salary that you were contemplating hurling them into the abyss of the Coruscant underworld. Seeing how much the kriff-up had upset you, Hound ventured into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“What’s really bothering you, love?” he asked. “You’re always good at coming up with contingency plans. Is this really such a big problem that it’ll ruin your equinox?”
You sighed and leaned back against him, closing your eyes. “No. Not really. It’s just… My mom always makes this for the autumn equinox. I really wanted it to be perfect, you know?”
“You miss her.”
You nodded. “I do. I miss home, too. It’s weird to celebrate an Alderaanian equinox holiday on a planet that doesn’t even have seasons. And I really wanted this to be perfect so you could have the experience even though you weren’t able to get leave to travel back home with me, and we had to cancel almost all of our plans, and now dinner is ruined, too, and I’m just so fucking tired and hungry.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He kissed the side of your head, then turned you around slowly so he could look into your eyes. His chest squeezed when he saw the beginnings of tears in your eyes, and he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe them away. “It is perfect, because I’m spendin’ it with you. No place I’d rather be in the galaxy.”
“Not even a musty old tent surrounded by wolf-cats?” you muttered rebelliously.
“As tempting as that sounds—and if I recall correctly, you were extremely tempting—no. But I’d eat rations and sleep in a musty old tent every night for the rest of my life if it meant I got to wake up next to you.” He didn’t say the words he desperately wanted to. It was too soon, and he didn’t want to scare you off. Instead, he pressed his lips to your forehead and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Kriff the pumpkins. We’ll get takeout and go for a speeder bike ride in the entertainment district.”
You gasped. “Blasphemy! How dare you insinuate that I can’t salvage this disaster? Stand aside and watch the master at work.”
“That’s my girl,” he grinned. 
“Hmph,” you replied haughtily, unable to quite repress the smile at the corner of your lips.
You started toward the stove, but as you took your first step, Hound caught you by your apron ties and tugged you back into his arms for a devastating kiss. He was extremely thorough, and by the time he released you, you were dizzy and breathless, and he made damn sure you couldn’t remember that mini pumpkins even existed.
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“That. Was. Incredible,” Hound said as he cleaned the last few morsels from his plate. 
“Not quite as aesthetically pleasing as Mom’s,” you hedged. 
“It was rustic,” he insisted. “Homestyle. Deconstructed.”
“You really need to stop watching cooking shows on the holonet.”
“How else will I learn all the terms to describe your food to make my brothers insane with jealousy? You think clone troopers have a reason to say ‘craveable’ on a daily basis?”
“Oh, yeah? You tell Thorn all about me?” you teased.
“Easy now, darlin’,” he replied with a lazy grin. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”
“Don’t worry, I could never leave Grizzer.”
He laughed. “Lucky thing for me.”
He leaned back in his chair and stretched, then stood up and began to clear away the dishes. You groped his ass shamelessly from your seat, then wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face against his abdomen.
“Thanks for celebrating with me,” you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. “I know I kind of lost the plot there.”
He set down the plates and wrapped his arms around you. “Not the first time I’ve seen you hangry; won’t be the last.”
You laughed into his belly, then tugged his shirt up so you could kiss his warm, smooth skin. “You know, there’s one equinox tradition that we haven’t observed yet.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“It involves a kitchen chair, a pair of your binders, and a jar of honey.”
“Dank farrik, I’m in love with you.” The words slipped out, and by the time Hound realized what he’d said, it was too late to call them back.
You drew back and stared up at him with an expression of shock. “What?”
“Uh…”
Kriff.
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46 notes · View notes
lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 hours
Text
Musician Age Gap AU Pt 16
"AUNT KARA!"
Esme throws the front door open and sprints full tilt across the lawn to throw her arms around Kara.
"Hey there," Kara greets.
Pulling her face back to look at Kara with wide eyes, Esme gets straight down to business.
"Tell me *everything*."
----
Kara's exhausted on the couch by the time Esme runs out of questions. She softens the blow of having left Esme so long without updates by letting Esme watch her video recording of Lena's new song. Oh, Esme has already seen the bootlegs of the song spread online, but none of those were taken from backstage.
The hard conversation doesn't come until after dinner, when Esme goes upstairs to finish her homework and leaves Kara alone with Alex and Kelly. They both gaze at her with soft, but expectant eyes.
"I'm fine," Kara tells them.
"No one is saying you're not," Kelly assures her.
Alex is less gentle. "Doesn't mean we can't be worried."
Two days ago, Kara would have taken offense. Today, she recognizes the validity of Alex's concern.
She sighs. "I don't think it was the wrong decision."
"Neither do we," Kelly says. "I don't think choosing happiness ever could be."
"But going half the way across the world at the drop of a hat is bound to be jarring." Alex's voice isn't sharp at all. In fact, she's far more calm than Kara expected her to be.
Kara glances at her suspiciously. "You don't approve."
Alex shrugs. "It doesn't matter what I think. The fact you made the choice tells me it was the right decision in the moment." She lifts her glass of wine to her lips, eyeing Kara over the rim. "But is it sustainable?"
Biting her lip, Kara considers the question. She doesn't regret her choice, and the past few weeks have been a whirlwind of excitement and novelty on all fronts. But what happens when the shine wears off?
"I'm still happy," she says carefully. "And Lena has been amazing. I just... don't know what my role is."
Kelly offers a soft smile. "Growing pains is natural, especially in a situation like this where you've been thrust into an unfamiliar industry and an intense career like Lena's. And learning to navigate the personal stuff is requirement of any relationship. It's just going to be harder with Lena than with anyone else."
"Why?" Kara demands, defensive at the implication she would be daunted. "Because she's famous?"
"Yes, Kara!" Alex leans forward, features lined with concern. She sets her wine down, and scrubs her hands over her face. "I don't-- it's not that she's famous, it's the fact that she can't meet you halfway."
Kelly nods. "Successful partners find the common ground-- a spot where they can meet in the middle. What Alex is trying to say is that Lena can't do that."
"Look at what's happened so far," Alex elaborates, gesturing towards the door. "You uprooted everything and got dropped into her world. She hasn't-- she *can't* do the same for you."
Kara looks into her glass, pensive. Again, Alex isn't wrong. Lena's single foray into her life had been coffee in the park-- in disguise. Meanwhile Kara has been thrust into the deep end of Lena's own life. Her career, her family and friends...
Could Lena ever find the same kind of assimilation into Kara's life? Would she *want* to?
And does Kara care if she doesn't?
"I don't think it would be fair to either of us to end things before even trying."
Before anything else can be said, Esme's door slams open upstairs and teenaged feet pound down the stairs at a breakneck pace, only to screech to a halt at the threshold of the living room.
"Aunt Kara?"
Kara sits up from her slouch, concern leeching over her. "What's wrong?"
"Yeah, you okay sweetie?" Kelly asks.
Esme's features crease in apprehension, her anxious gaze flicking between Kara and her phone.
"Um... there's something you should see."
Kara reaches for Esme's phone when she offers it. She shoots her sister an uncertain glance, then turns her attention to the glowing screen.
She blinks at the list of breaking news results on the search screen, jaw tightening. She clicks on the first. A photo fills the screen-- and Kara's heart plummets.
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realityinsuspense · 19 hours
Text
one step closer | chapter 3: a broken bowl
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--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen." ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other’s lives. that was your plan. that’s how you’ve always done things, and you’ve gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.
--pairing: mingi x fem!reader
--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst, #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutual pining
--a/n: hey all!! sorry for the slowest update in the world ahfdkafkdj but here is chapter 3! enjoy, and if u would like to be part of the tag list pls let me know :) i just started one hehe
words: 5.2k
~
chapter 3: a broken bowl
Life at the apartment continued on as usual. With the now split chores and clear communication between one another, you and Mingi settled back into that routine. And it was great! Peaceful—just how you liked it. And you’re sure Mingi liked too.
It was Wednesday evening. You were back at the apartment after another busy day of work and you were absolutely exhausted. You were also starving as well, so you headed to the kitchen to prepare an easy meal for dinner: instant ramen—the spicy kind. The thought immediately made you salivate. As you gathered two packs of Indomie from the pantry, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket: an incoming call from Hongjoong.
It’s been a while since he’s last called you, and you missed him, mentally noting that you had to get lunch with him soon. It was an easy decision—you wanted to talk with your best friend. But before pressing the green answer button, you glanced at Mingi’s door from the kitchen. He’s home early today surprisingly. Knowing he’s behind that door and could possibly enter the kitchen at any moment, you quickly run to your room and grab your headphones; you wanted your conversation to only be heard by you of course.
You pressed the button, and you were greeted excitedly by your best friend.
“Did you get San’s invite to his birthday party?” Hongjoong asked immediately. You grabbed a big pot and filled it with water.
“Yes. Trust me, the amount of times I’ve heard about this party already,” You smile to yourself and adjusted your headphones.
“Ah, this guy…I am looking forward to his birthday nonetheless,” You could tell Hongjoong is also smiling on the other end. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him too.”
Funnily enough, Hongjoong was also friends with San and Yeosang. He happened to attend the same University as the best friend duo, where they were all classmates for four years. It was only a coincidence that you all so happened to become friends. What a small world, you remind yourself.
“Oh you know San, he’s doing great! Yeosang too…And what about you? How’s your friend?” You teased. The last time you spoke with your best friend, he admitted he was slowly developing a crush on his long time neighbor. It excited you—romance gossip was always the best. You couldn’t help it, as a hopeless romantic yourself.
“Oh stop! Nothing much has been happening,” He laughed . “But I would say, we’ve been talking more and more.”
“What if you invite him to San’s?” You suggested. “I would love to meet him.”
“Ahh, yeah, but I think it’s maybe too soon for that,” Hongjoong said. “But I do want you to meet him one day. He’s great…”
“I can’t wait!” You exclaim. The water on the stove is boiling now, so you dump your noodles in and start separating the packets of seasoning.
“Well, what about you? How’s your life these days?” Hongjoong’s voice rings through your headphones as you carefully stir in the noodles.
“It’s been going good,” You chirp. “Nothing much going on either.”
“Hmmm…how is your roommate by the way? You haven’t told me much, except that he’s a mess.” He chuckles.
“Well that situation has been fixed, but honestly…” You ponder this. How is Mingi?
Ever since the chores incident, life at the apartment has been sailing smoothly again. In fact, you might even think the conversation even improved the atmosphere of the apartment. It felt a little bit more comfortable living there. Moving pasts the silence and nods, you guys now greet each other with a “hello” or “good night” here and there. The air feels less awkward and less tense. Both your schedules still work out, except you notice that recently, he’s been coming and staying home earlier than his previous hours…But you don’t think about it too much. You guys still manage to work it out! Again, you guys still keep to yourselves. Everything is still separate and unknown. Strangers, but not really strangers. Unraveled mysteries. Roommates. That’s what it feels like.
“He’s okay. We really don’t talk much though. We kinda just focus on our own things, you know?”
“Mmm…” You hear Hongjoong’s tone shift slightly. You could tell that it’s his turn to do the teasing now. “That sounds so boring!”
“Hey!” You chuckle. You turn the stove off to the perfectly cooked noodles. “It’s fine by me. I’m just here to live okay.”
Now, where is that strainer?
“Interesting,” Hongjoong says. “So… is he cute?”
“What?!” You exclaim a little too loudly after opening up the cupboard above you. You spot the large silver straining bowl, all the way on the top shelf stacked on top of your other large bowls. Did I really put these here? “What’s up with that? San asked the same thing.”
Hongjoong laughs in response. “Well, you are a single woman living alone with a man. That’s like a couple living together, no? And God knows how long you’ve been single for. I mean-wait, is he single too?”
“I don’t know about all that!” You quietly “yell” into your phone, your voice a low murmur. This is the last type of conversation to have especially since Mingi is just a room away. You glance at his bedroom door again, happily still shut.
For some reason, you feel your face flush. You felt a little embarrassed at the mention of your almost nonexistent love life once again, this time a bit more direct. And to have this thought about Mingi? Of all people! It was absurd. While you loved romance gossip, it wasn’t an exception when it came to you. Now you were finding yourself giving this little speech of justification once more. “Co-ed roommates exist you know? Besides, maybe he does have a girlfriend. But anyway, me and him? Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. And even if there was ‘something’—which there won’t—that would compromise our contract. I’m just here as his roommate to live in.”
You gently push yourself up onto the kitchen counter, your eyes locked on the stack of bowls.
“Relax, I’m just joking,” Hongjoong defends, but you could hear him grinning like crazy. “But, I don’t know…shouldn’t roommates at least bond?”
“Bond over what?” You were leaning over the cupboard, with your arm almost reaching the bowl. If you knew any better, you probably would’ve gotten a chair to help you instead. But you were too distracted, and for some reason, willingly determined, as if you knew that it was entirely possible for you to reach such height. Your fingers just barely brushed over the cool bowl holding the strainer. What you should know, was that willingness did not always equal logic.
And your desperation for reaching for the bowl at the top shelf backfired. Your fingers tried to grab hold of the bowls, but the weight made you feel unsteady, slipping out of your grasp.
CRASH
“Fuck!” You ducked just in time. But the stack of bowls toppled over and shattered on the floor, a big pile of broken ceramic pieces scattered everywhere. And of course, the strainer lying on the floor as well, perfectly unharmed.
“What happened?!” Hongjoong’s voice rang through your headphones. You carefully landed both your feet on the floor, worried of stepping on any broken glass despite the house slippers.
“Oh shit,” Your eyes went wide after scanning the broken pieces—intricate designs of blue were shown throughout. “Ugh…this isn’t good. Hongjoong, I’ll call you later, okay?” He obliged, and you promised to update him. You stood in shock at the mess in front of you.
These bowls weren’t yours.
They were Mingi’s.
And you broke them.
A million thoughts were bursting and running through your mind. Why did I think these were mine*? Why was I so distracted? I should’ve known better. Maybe I’m just really exhausted? Ugh. No excuses. Oh he’s gonna kill me. These looked really expensive. What do I say to him?*
Hurriedly, you begin to sweep the damage that had been done. But barely just starting to clean up, you hear the sound of his bedroom door opening. Fuck. At that moment, you so badly wished his life schedule didn’t change all of a sudden and that he wasn’t home. But there’s no point in hiding. He was going to find out eventually; it’s time to face it.
Your heart rate picks up as you hear the shuffle of footsteps get closer to the kitchen; you painfully continue sweeping the broken mess.
“What was-” Mingi begins as he enters the kitchen. His relaxed face turns tense at the sight of the scene before him, looking down at the broken bowls. “What the hell happened?”
You jolt up and duck your head down in apology. You suddenly feel his eyes glaring into you.
“I’m so sorry, it was an accident! I-I thought that the bowls were mine and I stupidly tried reaching for them and then I..dropped them.” Your words felt pathetic, your body feeling hot with embarrassment. You gingerly lifted your head to make eye contact with him.
You were scared out of your mind for some reason, that same intimidating feeling returning.
Silence. You scan his face for something. But his expression remains tense and indifferent, his dark hair falling just above his dark eyes. It’s hard to know what he’s thinking. But there’s no doubt in your mind—he has to be pissed.
“I can buy you a new set, I-” You blurt out at an attempt to break the painful silence.
“Don’t bother,” He says coldly, his tone full of anger and disappointment. “This further proves my point. I know we live together, but we really can’t bother with each other. Otherwise shit like this happens. The chores was already enough, and now you’re breaking my stuff.”
The words slap you in the face, and you can’t help but feel silenced. It was an accident! You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t find the courage to. You would never break those things on purpose. He must be upset; they must’ve been important to him. But even so…
Even if he was speaking the truth, it still felt mean.
It still hurt.
Mingi picks up some remaining scattered pieces where he stands and throws them in the trash bin. You continue to clean up as well; it feels like you’re holding your breath the entire time until both of you finish cleaning the mess. You were ashamed.
After you hear his bedroom door shut, you let out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of disappointment and anxiety. Your noodles have gone cold.
That entire night, you were fueled with guilt. It makes sense to be upset about broken dishware, but it’s not like you were completely ignoring the problem. Nor were you were trying to break them on purpose. You took responsibility, apologized, and offered to purchase a replacement. Yet, Mingi refused. You began to feel worse after realizing how well you two were finally cooperating, and that living together became easier and more comfortable. He even made stronger efforts in keeping the apartment clean.
The next morning before you left for work, because you couldn’t go on without action, you slipped a small envelope of money underneath his door. It was for the bowls.
Mingi’s being upset with you bothered you to the core.
Well rightfully so, you did just destroy a very nice ceramic set of dish ware. And it didn’t look cheap, so it must’ve costed a fortune. Maybe that’s why he seemed to mad.
It only makes sense to replace it then. Besides, it would be rude of you not to. It was a gesture in your nature and out of courtesy. It was something you could do to fix the problem. But you were unclear of what Mingi wanted. What could he possibly want? What could I possibly do to fix this?
And as you were on your way to work, you felt your phone vibrate. While you were expecting a text from Hongjoong (who you updated on the situation afterwards by the way), you were surprised to find a new message from your roommate. What great timing, you thought to yourself.
song mingi (roommate): don’t need the money.
Well that was fast. But the text made your stomach churn. Seriously, this guy is so blunt. You chose to ignore the message, guilt creeping into you once again. Your thoughts followed you to work, clouding your upcoming busy day.
“That’s weird,” Yeosang scrunches his eyebrows together. “Who gets that upset over a set of bowls?”
Once again, you confided in your work friends. It was lunch time at your guys’ usual table, and you were stirring the spoon in your bowl of soup mindlessly. You were relieved it was finally lunch time, because the whole incident and text message was bothering you all morning.
“Agreed, that was totally unnecessary,” San says, eyes glued to his phone.
“Just forget about it y/n. It was clearly an accident! You’re too nice for your own good.” Yeosang presses.
“Yeah y/n, don’t stress about it too much.” San added.
“But I can’t!” You groan and throw your head into your hands. Yeosang sighs seemingly in defeat and takes a bite of his burger. “I feel guilty out of my mind.”
Just when things were starting to feel okay. Just when Mingi showed some kind decency towards you, it had to go south immediately. Things were just starting to feel comfortable and at ease. You two were finally cooperating as roommates, greeting one another, and being accommodating to one another. It was a peaceful coexistence that has once again been jeopardized—this time by you. Who would’ve thought living would become even more difficult.
“Well, if you feel that bad. I think you should just get him the new set.” San says, finally looking up from his phone, his expression bright and gentle as always.
“Should I really?” You ask weakly. It was just the push you needed.
“You really don’t have to y/n…” Yeosang smiles his comforting little smile. “But we know you, and you probably will anyway.”
My friends know me well.
You head back home after stopping by the market after work. Luckily, it was still open, and you picked out a similar looking set—a porcelain white set, except with tiny green floral detailing this time. It was cute, but not as beautiful as the original. The reminder made your stomach sink.
You’re sure this wasn’t as expensive as the original either, despite the sales lady claiming its value. But, you hope that it’s the thought that counts—this was your apology gift. Whether he’ll accept it or not. You only feel right doing this. And it was your fault, so you wanted to take responsibility.
Despite your fears to face Mingi once again, you knew you had to muster up the courage to properly apologize to him. Otherwise, you both couldn’t go on living this way—all tense all over again. Disrupted peace. Awkwardness, discomfort. A step backwards.
You wanted to resolve this as smoothly and quickly as possible. And enough with the overthinking!
We’re roommates for crying out loud, you thought, trying to hype yourself up as you head up your apartment building. Again, you feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. Be more confident, y/n. You’re gonna apologize properly, and then he’s going to take this damn set of bowls whether he likes it or not! You’ve been agonizing in guilt for the past few days, so he better accept this apology!
We WILL be peaceful roommates again!
After opening the apartment door, you hear sounds in the kitchen and make your way there immediately. He’s home.
“Mingi!” You bravely announce, entering the kitchen. You felt a little stupid, but you couldn’t stand the tension. “I-”
But before you could even continue, your eyes land on your roommate leaning against the kitchen counter, and you suddenly feel your face grow hot.
Shirtless?!
Mingi looks up at you with a questioning look, his pink lips pouted. “Hm?”
Standing before you, was an even more revealing Mingi. Only wearing his signature pair of sweatpants, his lean and toned physique stood out—defined abs and muscles, and.. you tried not to stare for too long, but it’s so hard not to take in. The sight was…something else.
You feel embarrassed seeing him like this, but he clearly didn’t. You could barely make out your words, the courage and hype you built up all of sudden gone.
“I- uh,” You awkwardly say. “I bought you this for you.” You place the shopping bag on the dining table. Mingi approaches slowly, and you feel your heart beating faster as he walks closer to you. He peers into the bag and sighs.
“I told you, I don’t need-” He starts. ”I’m sorry!” You interject abruptly, finally making eye contact with him. “I’m sorry! I messed up. I broke the dishes. I broke our deal. As your roommate, it only makes sense for me to do this. I’ve been feeling horribly guilty, and I am really truly sorry.”
Mingi remains silent as he glares at you, his eyes unreadable. His dark eyes scan your face, and you hope to god your face doesn’t look as red as it feels. It would be even more embarrassing.
“I-I know it won’t replace the old one, and I know ceramics can be kind of expensive,” You continue on after he says nothing, spilling your jumbled words incessantly. “Especially the ones you had, which I’m sure were so beautiful by the way. So it must’ve been frustrating. I know it’s a hassle to get new pieces like those. And…and this new set isn’t the same, but it still has some little details on it! They’re green though—but still, very pretty! The lady at the market agreed with me. So maybe it can-”
“y/n,” He says sighing, stopping you. “It’s fine.”
“No! It’s not fine,” You grab the shopping bag from the table and try to shove it into his hands, taking a step closer to him. You look up at him now, his eyes wide—probably shocked by your sudden actions. Gosh, you think, unbelievably close to a shirtless man like this. “From now on, this won’t happen again. It was just a stupid mistake, I swear. So please, just take this as my apology.” You bow your head in shame and at an attempt to stop looking at him.
After a beat of silence, you feel him gently take the bag from your hands.
“My mom made them for me,” Mingi says quietly. “Those bowls.”
You slowly look up at him once more, suddenly taken aback by the comment. And most importantly his tone—a tinge of sentiment.
“You’re right. These won’t replace the old ones,” He says before you could even respond. “But they’ll do for now. I accept your apology, thanks..”
Mingi places the bag on the dining table once again, and returns to the kitchen counter to continue preparing whatever he was making.
“O-okay, yes,” You manage to say finally. “Thank you, good night.” ”Night.” He says without looking up.
A wave of relief washes over you, and you silently head to your bedroom. You were glad that he’s forgiven you, but also feel bad to know that you destroyed his mother’s gift to him. Now that you know that fact, it felt strange. Isn’t that even worse? At the same time though, Mingi didn’t seem too angry or upset like he was previously. And talking to him this time felt a little different.
Maybe your apology was so great, he felt compelled to do so. Anyhow, you were sure that things would get back to normal again. But your mind lingered about what he said. His mom?
We don’t usually bring up things like that, yet tonight…
You shook your head, deciding not to read too much into it. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.
In your room, you glance at yourself in the mirror.
Your cheeks were bright red.
Great.
~
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tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie
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polkadotpenguin16 · 2 days
Text
The Five Stages of Grief: Acceptance
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A/N: That’s it! We’ve done it!! If you had told me a year ago that I was going to write a whole-ass story, I wouldn’t have believed you. But here we are – life’s funny, isn’t it? Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who’s been following along with my story. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was capable of writing something anyone would enjoy reading. All the likes, reblogs, and comments have really added a sparkle to my life I didn’t know I needed. Also, extra huge thank you to the lovelies who reviewed, edited, and let me ramble on about my idea. This could not have been done without you and I am forever grateful <3
Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader
Word count: 2,985
Previous parts: Prologue | Denial | Anger | Bargaining | Depression
Also posted on AO3.
You didn’t need to tell Sonny where to meet you in Prospect Park. He knew the exact spot. On your fourth date, you took a walk through the park. Out of nowhere, it started pouring down rain, so you took cover under a gazebo. That was where you shared your first kiss, and that memory would forever be engrained in his head.
Even though you were fifteen minutes early, Sonny was already waiting for you in that gazebo. You shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. He sat hunched over on the bench with his arms on his knees. He looked up when he heard you but didn’t say anything. He didn’t look like your Sonny. The sparkle was drained from his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. You knew the feeling. You sat beside him on the bench, leaving an uncomfortable amount of distance between you. The tension from when you last met still lingered in the air, but the mood felt less defensive and more cautious.
“Thank you for meeting me,” you said to break the ice. Your heart was in your throat. Your anxiety wasn’t as high as last time, but you were nonetheless still nervous. Your hands were clammy, and your leg was restlessly bouncing, making the bench squeak beneath you. But you needed to be here, to make things right.
Sonny nodded in response. He was no longer despondent or resentful but still felt very guarded. He was prepared to accept the outcome of your conversation, whether that meant moving forward or moving on.
“Well, I have a lot of apologizing to do.” You rummaged through your bag to find your phone. “So I made a list to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”
Sonny didn’t come here today expecting an apology. He was the one who messed up, in his mind. But writing an apology as an itemized list was such a “you” thing to do. He was always fond of how meticulous you were.
You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you began. “Let’s start with number one: I’m sorry for leaving that night. Packing up without a word was wrong, and I should’ve stayed and talked with you. Number two: I’m sorry for avoiding you. You reached out to apologize and reconcile, and I was unwilling to communicate. It was childish and unproductive of me to ignore you.”
You paused briefly to glance up at Sonny’s face. His expression was neutral, but you could tell by how his eyes were fixed onto you that he was listening intently. Sonny was so surprised by your words that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. He’d spent more time worrying about your feelings than examining his own. This apology was like a salve to a deep cut he hadn’t noticed. Closure he didn’t know he needed.
You looked back at your phone and continued down your list. “Um, number three: I’m sorry for the unforgivable things I said to you when we fought. I didn’t mean them, but I know that’s no excuse, nor does it take anything back. Number four: I’m sorry for being jealous of your relationship with Amanda. You assured me she was just your friend, and I should’ve never doubted you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for, and I should not have made you feel bad for being just that.”
Sonny broke his gaze away from you. He felt ashamed that he’d missed what others had seen. And that you felt the need to apologize for his actions. That guilt-fueled churning in his stomach he’d become so familiar with made a return.
Still concentrating on your list, you resumed. “And number five: I’m sorry for not being honest about how I was feeling. I pretended I was okay with how things were and that was unfair to you. I should’ve been upfront when I started feeling neglected so that you could’ve had the chance to respond. I’m not apologizing here today with the expectation that I’ll be forgiven.” You wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes. “I know I’ve caused damage that I may not be able to repair. I want to be with you Sonny, if you’ll have me. I promise to be more open, understanding, and to communicate better. I love you, and I’m willing to put in the work to fix us.”
You put your phone away and gave him a look that you hoped conveyed all the remorse you felt. “If there’s anything else I’ve missed that I still need to apologize for, feel free to tell me. I’m ready to take responsibility for my mistakes.”
Sonny sat in silence for a beat, a solemn, unreadable expression on his face. You’d said your piece, and now you’ll have to live with the consequences. You held your breath and braced yourself for whatever he had to say next.
“…My hairbrush,” he said flatly. Unsure if you’d heard him correctly, you couldn’t help but give a confused look. “You took my hairbrush with you that night. My hair’s looked like crap ever since.”
You immediately burst out laughing, folding in half in your seat. He just wanted to hear you laugh again. It’d been so long since he’d heard your laugh. It was the most magical sound he’d ever heard.
“Well, I’m sorry for that, too,” you wheezed out as you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t take it on purpose. That was cruel and unusual punishment.”
Now it was Sonny’s turn to laugh. He chuckled so hard his sides began to hurt. Any tension between you had disappeared. For the past week, you felt like strangers. After all the heartbreak and turmoil, you could finally recognize each other again.
“Thank you, doll, for that very thoughtful apology,” he said once he composed himself. “I forgive you, and I wanna work on fixing us together. But first, it’s my turn to apologize.”
“No, you don’t, Sonny. You’ve already—”
“Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “I don’t have a fancy list like you did, but I’ll try my best.”
You smirked and shook your head. He aways poked fun at your lists, and your lists for your lists. You sat back and gave him the floor.
“I’m so sorry I forgot our date. But more than that, I’m sorry for all the canceled dates before that. I know my job’s insane and keeps me away a lot, and you’ve been a saint to put up with me as long as you have. You’re my priority, and from now on, I’m gonna treat you as such.”
You felt a warm glow in your heart. Just a few words, and all the sadness from so many lonely nights seemed to fade away. You could’ve stopped him there, completely content with his apology. But you let him continue letting his feelings out.
“Also, I haven’t been the best at communicating either. I should not have lost my temper the way I did, or confronted you at work. I was angry and afraid, but I should’ve found a better way to express that. I’m gonna work on that.”
With each word he spoke, he could feel his soul getting lighter. Freeing himself of the guilt that had dominated him. And the gentle smile on your face told him that he was saying the right things.
“And with Rollins…you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You opened your mouth to interject, but he held his hand up to stop you. “I understand where the jealousy came from. I just wish you’d told me sooner. But you were right. There’s only so much I can do, and I’m gonna take a step back. I know we can’t just go back to how things were, but I’d like to start fresh and take things slow. I thought I’d lost you—” his voice cracked as he held back his tears.
You reached out your hand from across the bench. What was only a foot or two felt like miles. Like a bridge across stormy waters, bringing you back together. Deeply touched, he took your hand, comforted by the familiar fit in his. “You’re the best part of my life and I’ve been taking you for granted. Can you forgive me?”
You looked at him with adoration beaming from your eyes. “I already have.”
He squeezed your hand and gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “Y’know, if you still wanna walk away, now’s your last chance.” He wiped the last remaining tears from your face. “’Cause if you stay, I’m not letting you get away again. Ever.”
You turned your head to kiss his palm that was still lingering on your cheek. “No, Sonny, I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled and shook your head, sure in your decision. “There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.”
Sonny’s smile was so bright, it could’ve lit up Time Square itself. He pulled you close and wrapped you in an impossibly tight hug. You’d almost forgotten how it felt to be held by him. How warm and safe his arms felt.
“I love you, sunshine,” you murmured against his chest.
“Love you more, doll.” He took your face into his hands and gave you a gentle kiss. You threaded your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Everything and everyone else at the park that day completely faded away – there was just you and him. Goosebumps shot across your body as you got lost in the taste of each other. A kiss that felt as if it were months in the making.
The tender moment was rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, causing you both to giggle. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for the past week, and it seemed like your anxious tummy ache had abruptly disappeared. Sonny sat back so he could see you better. “How’s about we get something to eat? I believe I owe you dinner at a fancy restaurant.”
“Maybe another day,” you replied. “I’d rather go home together and have you cook us something. Is that okay?” Hearing you say that made Sonny teary. You said home. With him.
Together.
He grabbed your hand and kissed it with an enormous grin growing across his face. “That’s more than okay, doll.” With that, you got up and began your stroll through the park back to your apartment.
Back home.
When you arrived, you decided to jump in the shower while Sonny started dinner. He hadn’t been to the store for a couple of days, so it was slim pickings. He found half a carton of eggs and a small cut of pancetta in the back of the fridge. Carbonara it is, then.
He just finished frying the pancetta when you returned to the kitchen. When he turned around at the sound of your footsteps, he was stunned by what he saw. It was you wearing his ratty, gray Fordham hoodie. It was such a normal, everyday thing for you to be wearing. But in that moment, after all you’ve been through, the gesture meant the world to Sonny. He started to feel the cracks of his heart begin to heal.
“Everything okay?” You asked, a bit concerned by his dazed look.
“Yeah, everything’s perfect.”
Sonny plated the pasta, and you sat down for dinner at your tiny table. It felt like ages since you’d gotten to talk to each other. You explained how you wanted to start therapy to work on your self-esteem and conflict avoidance. You wanted to be the best version of yourself for both you and Sonny. He was very encouraging and proud of you for being willing to take that step.
Sonny talked about how he was seriously considering changing his career. “It just feels like the right time, y’know? I’m just worried I’d be letting everyone down. I mean, what if I suck as a lawyer?”
“Listen to me,” you sat your fork down and grabbed his hand. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re following your dream. Anyone who loves you knows that and will support you. Whether you’re a cop, a lawyer, or whatever, I’m gonna be here for you. And I’ll love you through it all. Even if you are a sucky lawyer.”
Sonny’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, and he tried to turn his head to disguise the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. You reached for his chin and gently turned his face back to give him a sweet kiss. “Through it all,” you reiterated. Your gaze briefly shifted from his face to the living room behind him, something seeming awry. “Did you move the bookcase?”
Sonny wasn’t sure what you were talking about until he remembered the hole in the wall the bookcase was now hiding. “Um…how ‘bout we talk about that tomorrow? I think we’ve had enough excitement for today.”
Well, now your interest was definitely piqued. But he was right. There was no need to solve everything in one day.
Once dishes were put away, you decided to turn in early. To say you were both exhausted was an understatement. Sonny crawled into bed behind you and curled his whole body around you. Arms, legs, and all completely cocooning you.
“Sunshine, I can’t breathe,” you eked out from between his arms.
“Well, I told you I wasn’t letting you get away again,” he nonchalantly replied, tightening his grasp around you. “This is your life, doll. Just accept it.”
You belly laughed so hard you would’ve fallen out of bed if Sonny hadn’t been holding you so tightly. “Oh, I have!” You get out in between your giggles. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”
And he believed you.
“I love you, doll,” he whispered as he kissed your cheek. “More than anything.”
“I love you more,” you quietly answered back.
“Not possible.”
Sonny nuzzled his head into the back of your neck, completely enveloped in the familiar, comforting scent of your hair. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest. The sound of your breathing lulled him to sleep—the best sleep he’d had in months.
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You woke up to the sun creeping in through the curtains. You glanced over at your alarm clock to check the time. 9:45. You’d gotten a much-needed good night’s rest. Sonny, too. He was still knocked out beside you, lying on his stomach with his arms sprawled out in every which way. You couldn’t help but stare. His face was so serene. You could almost make out the faintest hint of a smile. It was such a rare sight to see him so peaceful.
Beginning to stir, Sonny rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “Enjoying the view, doll?” He called you out for staring. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
Your cheeks turned bright red, and you scooched closer to bury your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.
“I think it’s Sunday.” Sonny’s voice was still gravely from sleep. “We’ve got the whole day to ourselves. Whatcha wanna do, sweetheart?”
“Hmmm…” you briefly considered your options. “Well, staying in bed is tempting.”
“I could be convinced of that. That couch sure made me miss this old bed.”
You looked up at him confused. “The couch?”
“Yeah…” He gave you an embarrassed smile. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch the past couple nights.”
“Why would you do that? That couch is at least a foot too short you.”
“Wasn’t the same in here without you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re my home, doll.”
You’d never felt so in love with him as you did in that moment. “And you’re mine.” You brushed back the hair stuck to his forehead and leaned up to kiss him. He tangled one of his hands in your hair as he caressed your back with the other. Home was the best way to describe how you felt.
You were both startled by Sonny’s work phone ringing. Groaning, you rolled away from him. So much for a Sunday in bed. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, getting up to make some coffee for him to take. But he grabbed your arm to stop you. He quickly checked his phone, then dismissed the call and turned it off.
“Don’t you need to answer that?” Sonny always answered his work phone. Night or day, whether he was on the clock or not.
He shrugged and shook his head. “Not my weekend on call. They can figure it out.”
“Sonny, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Pfft, they’re already short-staffed. What’re they gonna do? Fire me?” He poked your side, making you giggle. “Besides, I’ve got much more important things to worry about.”
“Such as?”
“Making sure my girlfriend is suitably cuddled.” He pulled you back onto his chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt so comfortable. You were fighting to stay awake, but the rhythm of his heartbeat was so calming, it was lulling you back to sleep.
“Just close your eyes, doll,” he said as he ran his hand up and down your spine.
“But I haven’t seen you in forever.” You let out a huge yawn. “I feel like if I close my eyes, you’ll disappear.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
After a few more beats, you did indeed fall back asleep. Sonny studied your face, memorizing each detail. Every wrinkle, every freckle committed to memory. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to get a second chance with you. Completely content with his life, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, assured he’d have plenty of tomorrows to spend with you.
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jerzwriter · 3 days
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Thank you to @coffeeheartaddict2 for this ask! For @chociesprompts Smuttember - Prompt #17 - Make Up Sex
Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Rating: Mature (18 +) Words: 1,030 Summary:     Fighting absolutely sucks; that's why Tobias & Casey do their best to avoid it, but with making up like this, they may be looking for reasons to squabble. A/N: Didn't have time to edit much - be kind. :)
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Casey could have been doing one of a million things; after all, a working mom’s to-do list is never done. With Samantha in school and the day off work, she knew her time could be put to better use, but she just couldn’t find the energy to move.
Fighting wasn’t common in the Carrick household, but this morning had been an exception. A glitch in their usually meticulous family schedule led to confusion over who was dropping Samantha off at preschool. Exhausted and overworked, they were not at their best, and things escalated quickly, and both said things they didn’t really mean. By the time Tobias returned from dropping Samantha off at school – late - the atmosphere in their home was icy.
He found Casey exactly where he had left her, sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the morning news. Without a word, he set a small, fancy box of chocolates from L.A. Burdick's on the coffee table.
“Peace offering?” he asked, giving his best apologetic smile.
Casey raised a brow but didn’t move. “Do you really think bribing me with chocolate is going to work?”
Tobias rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous grin. “Well… not exactly, but I thought it’d be a good start.”
She crossed her arms and huffed, mainly as an attempt to suppress the smile that threatened to show him he was succeeding. No, Casey wasn't letting him off easy this time, but Tobias was undeterred.
He sat beside her, his smile fading slightly. “I really am sorry,” he said, opening the box and holding out one of her favorite truffles. “Come on. Truce?”
But when she didn't budge, Tobias got creative. He popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth and leaned in close, taking Casey by surprise when he kissed her softly. His lips were sweet and warm against hers, the hint of the delicious chocolate slipping through.
She pulled back, equal parts annoyed and amused. “That’s your plan? Seduce me with chocolate kisses?”
“Perhaps.” He whispered as his lips brushed against hers, slower and more deliberate.
Thinking quickly, he grabbed another piece of chocolate and placed it on her lower lip, teasing it into her mouth when she began to protest; then, he followed with a deep, lingering kiss.
The tension between them began to melt away quicker than the chocolate, replaced with a passionate heat as Tobias’s hands began to wander. Any resistance Casey intended to offer crumbled completely as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
One kiss turned into another, and the chocolates were all but forgotten when Tobias’s hands slipped under her shirt, his mouth tracing a path from her lips to her neck and below. Casey shoved the blanket to the floor, and within seconds, Tobias had her shirt lying beside it.
“Still mad at me?” he smirked while placing wet kisses on her skin.
“Mmm, maybe a little,” she teased, taking his hand and dragging him toward the bedroom.
Their playful banter continued as they climbed the stairs, but as soon as they hit the bed, words were no longer necessary. Tobias had one mission in mind: erase any remnants of their earlier argument from his wife’s mind, and he was willing to use anything in his arsenal to make that happen.
Casey squirmed as his tongue and fingers joined together to playfully toy with her nipples, and she gasped audibly when his hand dipped inside her yoga pants, his fingers quickly rubbing the very spot he knew would drive her wild. Tobias Carrick only studied one thing more than medicine, and that was how to render his wife defenseless at his touch. This morning, he was pulling out all the stops, and with full appreciation, Casey responded in kind.
Her hands tugged at his shirt, a button or two popping off as she yanked it over his head and tossed it across the room. He had wanted all attention to be on her, so he playfully tried to pull away when she began to unbuckle his pants, but she was as determined as him.
“Oh, you think that will stop me,” she teased, her voice a seductive whisper. “You know I always get what I want.”
With one quick tug, his pants were at his ankles, and he eagerly pushed them away. His head fell back as Casey took over, her hands working their magic until her mouth encircled him.
“My God – “ he groaned, almost forgetting his original goal, but he snapped back quickly. Grabbing her by the waist, he flipped her onto her back. “Sorry, Princess,” he hissed, nudging her thighs apart as he centered himself over her, “but this morning, I’m taking care of you.”
Her eyes screwed shut as she succumbed to him; all she could see was a golden light as he slowly pushed inside her. If his gentle caresses and deep, intentional thrusts weren't enough, his whispers of how beautiful she was, how incredible she made him feel, and how much he worshiped her had her forgetting her name.
She couldn’t remember what they fought over as her nails dug into his shoulders. Tobias let out a gentle scream, relishing the sensation as she slowly dragged them down the length of his back. Tobias doubled his pace, leaving Casey trembling beneath him.
Her eyes stayed shut, but his gaze was focused on her, taking in her lovely face as she came undone. Each gasp, every little twitch, and lingering moan reassured him that he was doing precisely what he had set out to do... reminding her that she was his, and he was hers, and nothing else mattered.
When the heat between them finally erupted, they collapsed beside each other, breathless and deliciously spent. There was a huge smile on Casey's flushed face as she curled up against her husband's chest.
“That was...” she trailed, trying to catch her breath.  
“Are you saying you approve?” Tobias laughed gently, brushing her hair back from her face. Her languid groan, accompanied by a satisfied grin, would have to suffice as a response because words were still lost on her.
Tobias propped himself up on an elbow and placed a kiss on Casey’s forehead. “So, are we good?” he asked.
“We’re good,” she replied, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “Just… maybe let’s not fight like that again.”
“Deal,” he agreed, pulling her closer. “Unless, of course, we end it like this.”
"Hmmm. If we end like this," she smiled. "We may be fighting all the time!"
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
Tagging others separately.
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cxldblxxded · 1 year
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GET TO KNOW ME: TOP 10 MOVIES.
━━━ list your top 10 favorite movies and tag friends to do the same
the thing (dir. john carpenter, 1982): "i dunno what the hell's in there, but it's weird and pissed off, whatever it is."
aliens (dir. james cameron, 1986): "get away from her, you bitch!"
the lost boys (dir. joel schumacher, 1987): "my own brother, a goddamn, shit-sucking vampire! oh, you wait 'til mom finds out, buddy!"
terminator 2: judgement day (dir. james cameron, 1991): "watching john with the machine, it was suddenly so clear. the terminator would never stop. it would never leave him, and it would never hurt him, never shout at him, or get drunk and hit him, or say it was too busy to spend time with him. it would always be there. and it would die to protect him. of all the would-be fathers who came and went over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only one who measured up. in an insane world, it was the sanest choice."
28 days later (dir. danny boyle, 2003): "that was longer than a heartbeat."
shaun of the dead (dir. edgar wright, 2004): "don't groan at me, you thick fuck!"
bee movie (dir. simon j. smith & steve hickner, 2007): "are you her little... bed bug...?"
jennifer's body (dir. karyn kusama, 2009): "you're killing people!" "no, i'm killing boys."
megamind (dir. tom mcgrath, 2010): "oh, you're a villain alright, just not a super one." "yeah? what's the difference?" "presentation!"
midsommar (dir. ari aster, 2019): "dani, do you feel held by him? does he feel like home to you?"
tagged by: @fangmother
tagging: @mystiika and YOU
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undergoing-mitosis · 16 days
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can we talk about the fact that the icons, the memes, the tumblr sexymen who broke history, reigen arataka and sans undertale, are both some of the most exceptionally written and executed characters i have ever had the pleasure of stumbling across? please can we talk about that?
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uncuteartist · 14 days
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I feel the sudden onset of a hyperfixation would fix a lot of things for me rn. Like, I want something to fully consume me. I think conditions are right for one starting, but nothing's lighting the right spark.
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markiafc · 11 months
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to fulfill my promises to @ananeiah and to expound on @seventh-fantasy's post, there are many conceptions of enlightenment. because buddhism is a massive and old religion with a very robust canon, enlightenment goes by many names, it's articulated and imagined in many different ways. let's play the game of how many of them are adopted by the show...
popular metaphors that embody enlightenment include a refuge, a flame going out, or a firm island - because this world is often described as an ocean. all human beings are floating in the 生死苦海 sea of rebirth and suffering. to escape it, one must make their way to the island or to get on a boat. mahayana buddhism (aka. chinese buddhism) is literally named 大乘 the great vehicle, the primary idea being that enlightenment = to board a vehicle of transport, it will take you away. however, buddhism doesn't just envision this as an ambiguous vehicle. 乘 the vehicle specifically refers to a 船 boat.
the mortal world and the cycle of suffering is a sea and the way out is enlightenment, envisioned as a boat.
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an extension of this is the concept of ��岸 the faraway shore (alt tl: the further shore, the distant shore, the other shore, or at times the opposing shore). it draws on the same notion of 苦海 the ocean of suffering. to achieve enlightenment is to swim to shore, where there is finally safety and stability, free from suffering. this is why the euphemism for enlightenment is to 度到彼岸 reach the faraway shore.
此岸 this shore, is this ever-changing world full of agonies. you wade across the 苦海 sea of suffering, and reach 彼岸 the faraway shore. this is enlightenment.
as @seventh-fantasy depicts in this post, the final shot of ep 40, and as seen in the bonus ep 40.5, this is where llh is. ep 40 ends with the camera moving further into the distance, moving further into the sea. and the bonus ep 40.5 makes it clear again that lxy/llh has found his way to a different beach. llh has crossed the sea to another beach. he is on another shore, the 彼岸 faraway shore, far from 东海 the east sea where everyone else is.
let's look even closer at this.
enlightenment is also conceived as a place: 淨土 the pure lands, 极乐世界 the realm of greatest bliss, and so on. one of the geographical markers of this idea is 西 the west. this "land" accessible only to the enlightened (佛 buddhas, 菩萨 bodhisattvas, and 阿罗汉 arhats) is also dubbed 西方淨土 the western pure lands and 西天 the western heavens, etc.
enlightenment is imagined to be westwards. the opposite direction and away from 东海 dong hai = the east sea. where the story began and lxy famously plunged into; he fell into the 苦海 sea of suffering located in the 东 east. from this starting point, llh makes a meandering journey to his final location in the show. he makes his way 西 west, towards enlightenment, and reaches a 彼岸 faraway shore, the enlightened "after" and what is beyond.
now that we're on the topic of the pure lands, it's worth mentioning that this concept is furnished with a lot of descriptions in buddhist sutras. it is a beautiful, glorious land brimming with lotuses. because, of course, the lotus is yet another ubiquitous image that represents enlightenment.
the lotus position is crucial to the buddhist practice of prayer cultivation, especially in 禅宗 zen buddhism that is built around the central practice of prayer. lotuses are motifs in buddhist art, and buddhist myths (the legend goes that lotus flowers bloomed under the buddha's feet when he took his first steps as a child). people practicing buddhism are referred to as 莲友 lotus friends, 芬陀利花 the white lotus is a synonym for the buddha. lotuses are also integral to buddhist canon; the pure lands are detailed to have seven 宝莲池 treasure lotus ponds. every buddhist has their own lotus waiting for them in the pure lands; it is believed the more you cultivate, the more your bud in the pure lands grows/blooms.
of note, every living thing residing in the pure lands are made from lotuses. in fact, buddhist canon states that the enlightened are reborn inside a lotus bud, similar to an incubation. their new body is reconstituted from lotuses and they emerge anew when the bud blooms. crucially, it is also stated that every enlightened in the pure lands will have 莲花座 a lotus seat. this is a vehicle of transport, usually likened to the magic carpet from one thousand and one nights. it is described as 随心所欲、飞翔自在 something that acts after your heart's desire, something that flies free. the lotus seat is about boundless, freeing travel.
this isn't comprehensive at all, there are tons of other ways lotuses come up throughout buddhism. but the connection to the show is straightforward and self-explanatory. the primary motif in 莲花楼 mysterious lotus casebook is the lotus - a famous marker for buddhism itself. one of the dominant illustrations of enlightenment, the cultivation process to achieve it, and enlightened entities themselves.
the buddhist notions of rebirth are similarly heavily intertwined with the lotus. it is your body; you become it, it becomes you. from then on, you are surrounded by its image and its presence. you even have a lotus vehicle that becomes your main method of travel, a mode of travel defined by carefree contentment. sound familiar? llh's identity and his living carries major markers of enlightenment. it is one of the primary concerns of his character arc.
quick detour. a prominent moniker for enlightenment is the setting of the sun, as yet another epithet utilized by the drama.
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detour over. crazy connections time.
discussions of death and suicide is, to my knowledge, particularly prominent in japanese buddhism. but as a whole, a significant portion of buddhist canon and a good number of buddhist media deals with this too. dying as a means to get closer to enlightenment, equating death and enlightenment, the subject of suicide itself. characters seemingly pass away and become enlightened, or characters strive for death with this express purpose as death is connected to enlightenment. this is true. one does not necessarily cause the other, but the concepts are interconnected in buddhism. it comes hand in hand, dissecting one means dissecting the other and vice versa.
most buddhist texts and masters do not condone a direct correlation, suicide is not the way to enlightenment. there is no buddhist value to killing yourself. but the key exception lies in one of the most important buddhist texts: the lotus sutra.
"These include several themes dealing explicitly with death, such as how suicide was committed to speed up rebirth in the Pure Land based on the sanctioning of voluntary death as a superior form of sacrifice in Chapter 23 of the Lotus Sutra ..." [1]
the chapter 23 in question talks about a bodhisattva who turns himself into a human candle and burns himself up, in offering to the buddha. there is more to the story, but it mainly functions as a lesson about cultivation and enlightenment.
in the canon about buddhist suffering, there lies a subset dedicated to physical pain and torment. there is a heavy focus on our 5 senses, specifically (that's a whole separate topic i won't go into here). very briefly, to suffer is to experience the world through our 5 senses. to live as a human being is to suffer in a sensory way.
buddhism aspires to transcend this flesh and blood suffering. so annihilation of one's body is an essential step to achieve enlightenment. usually, this theory centers natural death and decay. you accept that you are always aging, your senses will lose their edge, your body is always subject to illness, injury and other failings. let the body waste away, it will do so regardless.
hence, the human body is set on a course of gradual deterioration. this suffering is processed through our 5 senses and is defined by them. in the face of this, the lotus sutra is the only notable buddhist text that looks kindly upon "voluntary death" to transcend it.
similarly, llh accepts the effects of bicha on his body. it mimics the natural decline of the human body, accelerating the degradation of his senses, his immune system, and his physical capabilities in general. his experience of this form of suffering is also emphasized through a period losing his sense of sight. it is a very buddhist torment. but at the end of the day, it is still a man-made, unnatural cause generating this effect. accepting this is not the same as accepting 生老病死 death via age, sickness and other natural processes.
llh embodies the sentiments and themes in the lotus sutra when he consciously chooses to let bicha run its course. he chooses to die, it is a "voluntary death". let this destroy his body. let this suicidal choice (though its more nuanced than simply suicide imo) free him from buddhist physical suffering. thus bringing him closer to peace, a version of himself that will be happier.
finally, enlightenment is about ambiguity.
凡人 the common people are incapable of comprehending enlightenment. it is understood that the human senses and the human mind is too inept and unrefined, too clouded by illusions, to grasp it. there are a million ways to express it, depict it, and name it. but there is a consensus across buddhism that these are simply aids for the common student of buddhism, and they are not accurate to the truth. at the core of enlightenment is an abstraction, an inherent unknowing.
it is, by definition, a departure and a continuation. it is a removal from this world and a transition into another place, another realm. all at once, the phenomenon straddles a greyness between an ending and a beginning. it is unclear whether the enlightened has left, or is it the common man who is so lacking he cannot recognize or even perceive the enlightened? in the theory of enlightenment, buddhism accounts for both factors. but we will never know for sure.
where do the enlightened go? where are they, where have they gone? these are questions buddhists often ask and explore, and it is also the question that the remaining cast engages with. what is enlightenment, exactly? there is a suspicion, some notion of what must have happened. it might be death, it might not be. only the enlightened can answer this, everyone else is left without clarity.
in the end, the seekers get close to the answer but there is no real fruition. and so the search lasts indefinitely.
that, too, is part and parcel to enlightenment.
as for how enlightenment narratives function, i leave you with this.
"Nirvana provides the full stop (period) in the religious story; it gives what one might call, to use Frank Kermode's well-known phrase, "the sense of an ending" - that is, a real ending and not a mere breaking off. Such an ending is only possible within a narrative.
[...]
Nirvana, I want to suggest, is a moment within a discursive or practical dynamic, a formal element of closure in structure of Buddhist imagination, texts, and rituals. One might say that nirvana has primarily a syntactic rather than semantic value: it is the moment of ending which gives structure to the whole. The fact of narrative structure and closure provides a meaningful and satisfying resolution, although in itself nirvana has merely the formal value of a closure marker.
[...]
Earlier I called nirvana the full stop (period) in the Buddhist religious story; now I can add that it is a full stop in an eternal story, a full stop which brings closure to individual lives in a master text which itself can have no final ending." [2]
Sources:
Tragedy and Salvation in the Floating World: Chikamatsu's Double Suicide Drama as Millenarian Discourse by Steven Heine ↩︎
Nirvāna, Time, and Narrative by Steven Collins ↩︎
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milo-is-rambling · 5 months
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I can’t even imagine living without anxiety. Like. How. What?
#I mean if I woke up tomorrow with a normal amount of anxiety it would be a shocking difference to my daily life. and I am medicated!!! like.#what? am I missing something here?#my mom tells me that meds can only do so much and that they’re really just meant to make it so you can get out of bed every day#but now I’m wondering like is that true or is that my mom is on the wrong dose herself and something could be done to help us both#gahhhhh idk I just feel helpless bc I’m scared of making big changes and the big changes have to make are scary and large and I need a#bulleted list made of things I can do (and break down into very small steps) to actually progress in a positive way in my life instead of#being SO afraid and SO stagnant. it’s been six months since (ptsd diagnosis causing thing) and I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress even#with a therapist. I’m working towards a more intensive program but I feel like it’s almost making me feel more alienated bc I’d have to like#go be surrounded by other mentally ill people and medical people which brings dad dying trauma and like I know I’m running from it bc I’m#afraid to face the changes I need to make and the feelings that are going to come up but fuck man can’t I get some fucking meds that make#this easier to deal with!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! grief and ptsd and long term isolation and anxiety and chronic pain like fuck it’s#so exhausting!!!! I feel like I’m fucking fighting thru life and then from the outside it’s like I’m doing nothing cause I stay in my room#and get stoned and play animal crossing and watch tv and cry and over eat and sometimes I drive around in circles so I can scream sing until#my throat burns and I get a headache and everything finally quiets down in my head for a second. I know I look like I’m doing nothing and#that’s because I am doing nothing but waiting for the next time a mental health professional will talk to me for an hour like it’s so sad#anyways. you ever take a big dab and then start crying and type all of this like it’s an epiphany even tho it’s things you already know.#honestly crying in front of the air conditioner is so slay slight breeze over my face cooling the tears the white noise calming me down
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sanchoyo · 3 months
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I WOULD get the most awful itch to write after months of not rly writing (tm2 scripting doesn’t count) during artfight huh 😔
#AUGHHH!! I want toWRITE#(sitting down to draw rn bc I have a huge list of charas I WANT RO DRAW BUT I WANT TO WRITE AT THE SAME TIME#WHY WAS I NOT BORN AN OCTOPUS SO I COULD MULTITASK WITH MANT ARMS)#I got back from the psych appointment a while ago and I’m kinda exhausted mentally from that so I’m not sure I could rly write even if I#want to lol#it went well it’s just that talking abt that kind of thing is exhausting and kind of embarrassing when it’s professionals like lol sorry my#brain sucks and then they ask well how does it suck. and that’s embarrassing somehow#guy made me do math too and that was actually so painfully embarrassing I ended up just kind of asking if we could skip that bc after like#several guesses I could NOT do basic math at the top of my head 😭#like sir we both see I’m struggling PLSS just mark this as a bad area and GO ON#he was so nice and that made it worse 🥲 djdkfkrjfk#anyway when art fight is done I will write something….#maybe finish that loz fic I still have as a wip ?? I was deeply mad at it and also totk pissed me off so bad I didn’t want to touch a loz#fic for a while for fear of taking my frustration out on it and turning a fic into a fixit rant fic 😭 it isn’t even a botw fic lmaoo theres#no need for that. but also I could fix her (bad video game) (totk not botw I love botw)#here’s 2 hoping echos of wisdom is good (PLEASE PLEASW BE GOOD RARE PLAYABLE ZELDA GAME)#(SO FEW LOZ GAMES LET U BE ZELDA I NEED U TO BE GOOD MY MENTAL HEALTH HIMGES ON U)#sanchoyorambles
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