Anxious Girl Shocked To Discover That Doing The Thing She Was So Afraid To Do Was Actually Easier Than

anxious girl shocked to discover that doing the thing she was so afraid to do was actually easier than she catastrophically anticipated in her head

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3 years ago

"Such a lovely bride" - Thomas Shelby X Reader

"Such A Lovely Bride" - Thomas Shelby X Reader

SUMMARY: The Shelbys didn't expect who they met when Thomas presented his new wife.

REQUESTED: Yes, you can find it here.

A/N: I really liked this idea, it's something pretty different from what I usually write, but it was something so... attractive? That I couldn't resist it. But still, I want to say some stuff before:

1. I'm kinda worried I didn't write the bimbo reader justice, but I hope it's good anyway. Just wanted to make it clear here that this is the first time I try to write a Reader like this.

2. The story is placed before and on S1, but Thomas never fell in love with Grace here.

3. This is the first time I write a story in 3rd person, I'm not that good at it yet.

4. The book I mentioned as the Reader's favorite it's something of my creation, only for this fanfic, but I liked it so much that I may post something of this story after.

I hope you liked it! Feedback it's always welcome.

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 3,814

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“Tommy, have you ever stopped thinking what if animals could talk?” She asked, staring at the ceiling.

“Yes” he nodded, with a smile already growing on his face.

“Really?” She got up on her elbows.

“Yes, luv” he took a last drag on his cigarette before putting it in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“So which species do you think would be the rudest?”

Tommy chuckled, repressing one laugh. She always asked these questions but he was still surprised.

“I don't know,” he answered, honestly.

“Well, I think the turtles would be brassy, like ‘I'm the one who's always right” she got back to her previous position, Thomas turned to face her, a sweet smile still playing in his lips “but the rudest… hm, maybe the crows?”

“No, they would be wise” Thomas sometimes was surprised with himself, she woke up a side of him that he thought was already dead.

“Wise?”

“Yes, wise but not giving advice to everybody, they would be selective.”

“Smart.” She smiled widely, making Thomas' heart warm, he knew how much she loved when he talked like that with her “so, the rudest would be…” they both stared at each other before saying “snakes.”

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“What a dumb way to die” She snorted “and what a boring way this one is.”

Thomas looked at her with fun in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He left the papers he was reading on the desk and walked towards her.

“Reading.” She answered, still focused on the book in front of her.

“Reading what?” He stopped behind her on the sofa, from that angle he could read the pages she was reading.

“A boring book about boring people,” she sighed, “and their boring deaths.”

“Darling,” Thomas started, a tone of amusement in his voice “I don’t think there exist boring ways to die.”

She looked at him shocked, her mouth opened and her eyebrows raised “What? Of course there is.”

“You seemed almost upset, I think like this” he stated.

“Well, maybe I am, I thought you had more imagination.” Thomas rolled his eyes and she left out an angry grumbling.

“Death is death, (Y/N)” Thomas shrugged.

“So you would like to be Thomas Shelby, the one who died because he choked on his own saliva?” Thomas was surprised with himself that he was able to hold back a laugh.

“(Y/N)...” he started, but she cut him off.

“Really, Tom, what would you prefer? Thomas Shelby, a legend, dying like one, even in death being able to spread a story that would make your arch nemesis show respect or being Thomas, the guy who didn’t know how to swallow?”

Thomas shook his head in the negative, still holding back a laugh “I would prefer to be alive and make my arch nemesis die.”

“Always the winner” She rolled her eyes “but you understood.”

“I did.” He nodded.

“And didn’t answer.”

“Aren’t you thinking too much about my death?”

“That’s because unlike you I have a pretty good imagination.”

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“I- what’s happening?” She asked, looking at Thomas with a confused expression.

“It’s a race, darling” he threw his cigarette on the floor.

“I can’t understand absolutely nothing,” she sighed, “and I can’t see nothing” she gestured to some man in front of her, they were much taller than her and they were blocking her vision.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” He showed her some places that were on the other floor, there she could see properly.

“Yeah” she nodded with a smile and Thomas guided her.

When they were already accommodated on the superior floor, the race started and (Y/N) took about five scares in a three-minute period, all of them making Thomas give deep breaths and control himself for not smiling at her. The man around them were screaming and making a notorious confusion, one that his wife observed with mixed feelings, he could see when she smiled of some men, thinking it was funny how he got nervous because of a bet, but in only a few seconds she would change her whole posture when people started to fight, or try to fight.

“They’ll kill each other” she whispered to Tommy.

“Welcome to the races, my love.”

“And that’s definitely not a boring way to die.” And then Thomas couldn’t hold his smile anymore.

“I still don’t understand anything” (Y/N) said after some minutes.

“It’s okay” Thomas shrugged “you’ll get it sometime.”

“I hope it will be soon,” she pouted.

He furrowed, she had never shown interest in the races before “why?”

“Because they seem so interesting to you…” Thomas smiled, bringing her closer, a hand on her waist and another still on the iron bar in front of them.

“No need to worry, it’s okay” he consoled her.

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“How orange can be a color and a fruit?” She asked while mixing the cake batter.

“That’s how it works, they are the same colour” Thomas said while reading the journal.

“But grape is grape and purple is purple, even though they are the same colour” she pointed.

“Well, maybe the person who named orange a fruit didn’t have an imagination like yours and wasn’t that creative for making two names.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What is not fair?”

“You’re praising me.” She said, feeling her face get hot “Ironically.” Even if it was in a sarcastic way, coming from Thomas that meant the world for her. She knew they had opposite ways to show affection, she could recognize when he was - in his own way, telling her he loved her.

Thomas turned around and faced her, he could see she was flustered. He only smirked and went back to read the papers.

“We’ll marry (Y/N)” he stated.

“I know.” He could hear the smile on her voice.

“So will you act like a schoolgirl falling in love for the first time every single time I praise you?”

“I am falling in love for the first time, Tom.”

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“So, when will we meet your wife?” Arthur asked Thomas, they were all in the Garrison, drinking together at the snug.

“When it’s the right time” Thomas answered.

“You spend a lot of time in her house Thomas, you already know her family, and we didn’t even see her once” Polly said, lighting a cigarette.

Thomas gave her an annoyed gaze, but at last he shrugged “Fine.”

“Fine?” Arthur raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. Fine, I’ll arrange a meeting.” He explained.

“Oh my dear God!” Polly chuckled, “stop talking like it’s business Thomas.”

“I wonder to myself who is the crazy lady to marry Thomas Shelby,” Ada joked.

“An insane woman, indeed.” Polly agreed.

Arthur and John smiled, both of them exchanging looks. All of them were joking, but Thomas could only imagine how they would react when meeting (Y/N). He knew most people didn’t understand how he ended up with (Y/N), she made too many questions, was daydreaming most of the time and she was good, honestly good, with a pure heart. They were opposites.

Sometimes Thomas didn’t think he deserved her - if he was honest, he thinked that all the time. But only he could see her, see how truly enchanting she was, in those moments she would make questions all the time about everything, Thomas could see how intrigued by life she was, how smart too, she was smarter than him for a lot of stuff. She was easy to distract, but when she wanted she could read hours and hours of science books and then study experiments and see how things actually worked, but even then, when she reached the explanations, the dreams and sentimentalism she carried never went away. She was stronger than Thomas for this. She had seen real life, she had seen things that made man cetics, and still, she was herself, with all her ideas, dreams and values. Seeing good things where she wasn’t supposed to, like him.

“We aren’t that opposites Tommy, not all the time” she whispered to him one day, they both were laid together.

“We’re not?” She only nodded, but Thomas understood, he saw her determination, her way to protect her loved ones, how she was still able to work and take care of things after a tiring day, yes, even when she was making her silly lovely questions, even when she was dreaming about other worlds, about her books and favorites stories, even when it was late at night and she woke up because she really needed to write something down before the idea went away, even when she was completely clueless about what was going on, not understanding anything, just giving out her silly smile as a false confirmation that she understood everything, even in those moments, Thomas loved her and could see a younger Thomas in her. He could tell they were the same, for seconds, but they were. “You are very innocent to think so.” He said, not a single thought running in his head at the moment escaping in his voice, but (Y/N) giggled, she giggled, making Thomas smirk.

“I’m innocent?” She faced him, her eyes sparkling. Thomas wanted to freeze that moment and engrave that image in his head forever. Her face was illuminated, glistening from the few rays of the sun that came through the window, she still kept a hand on his chest to support herself, but now their faces were closer. Her lips called Thomas, a light smile playing on them.

Thomas kissed her, a kiss he would never forget. A kiss that felt like their first; magic, right. Her hair was loose, so a few strands were loose in front of her face, Thomas pulled one of them out and wrapped it around his finger affectionately as they walked away. He could see she was surprised, she always was every time he kissed her suddenly, Thomas never got tired of that expression.

“Very innocent.” He then answered. And that was one of the moments he looked at her and felt an urgency to hold her close, to never let her go. She was brilliant, adorable, so pretty for him, but what he liked most was the feeling of home, of safety, of innocence, of kindness she had and could pass to everyone.

“I’m not!” She rolled her eyes, pouting. He kissed her again, thinking with himself he would never get tired of that lips “this is not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“I can’t be mad at you when you’re kissing me like this, I could never.”

Maybe it was the way she said it, mad and soft at the same time, her voice denouncing that every bit of her was in love with him. Or maybe it was because it was a good day, with business, with family, with her, with everything. Maybe it was because at that moment, for just a few seconds he could swear he was young again, with a lot of dreams and hopes, innocent. Maybe it was all of that. But Thomas laughed, out loud, something inside him waking up after a long time. He would never know the exact reason, but he knew the exact moment that happiness inside of him decided to show up, she was there, by his side, and that was enough.

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“Meet your family?” She widened his eyes at him, he only nodded “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Well, you can’t meet them only on our marriage day.”

“Can’t I?” She looked at him with begging eyes.

“No (Y/N), you can't,” she sighed “you don’t need to be so scared. It's about time.”

“I’m scared” she got up off her chair and started to walk in the room “weren’t you scared when you met mom?”

“No” Thomas lied, she widened her eyes at him.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He lied again. He wasn’t terrified, and he wouldn’t call scared… but he was nervous, in a way he didn’t feel for a while, he was afraid - maybe this word is a exaggeration, wary or anxious would be more appropriate - things went wrong and her family didn’t approve him, her mom the most. “It’ll be okay, love, you don’t need to worry that much. They’re your family too now, you’re me wife.”

“Not yet” she pointed, with a cocky smile, it was rare to see her joking like that.

Thomas rolled his eyes, pushing away a good joke and a smile. “Already feeling better, I see.”

“No, actually I’m freaking out” she started to walk in circles again “oh, what if your Aunt doesn’t like me?”

“I’ll marry you anyway, I’m the one who has to like you.”

“But-” she started, but Thomas cut her off.

“I’m the one who has to like you (Y/N), end of the story.” He stared at her seriously, she nodded, but he could tell she was still nervous “come ‘ere” she crossed the room and sitted on his lap “why don’t you tell me about that story of yours?”

“What story?” She furrowed.

“Of your… red cover book? Yes, I think it was that one, one of your favorites” Thomas pretended he was having problems remembering. He would never have difficulty remembering anything she liked before, she could tell him once, like it was nothing important, but Thomas remembered .Everything. But this time he was pretending for a good cause.

“Oh, ‘the autumn wife” she smiled widely “you really want me to read to you?”

Thomas noticed how excited she was, the idea of reading to him enthusing her like it was the best thing in the whole world “yes, I had a tiring day, I want to hear you reading.”

Thomas didn’t know what the story was about, not with details at least. She had told him once it was about a girl who falls in love with a guy who promises her everything, but only some months after proposing her and her father had approved he disappears, leaving nothing but a letter and a pen behind. “Oh, it’s magic Tom, it’s really good” she described the book briefly - Thomas saw how hard that was for her - but after that day he saw her reading, they never talked about it again.

“Okay” She sitted on his lap again, looking at him and asking if she could start, Thomas nodded, waiting for her. He watched while she changed, her posture, her face, everything; getting comfortable and ready to read. When she finally started, Thomas thought to himself why he had never asked this before, her voice was different when she was reading, and her face too, she could make all the expressions of the characters and her tone was always perfect. “She smiled at him, sad, the saddest smile he had ever seen, and it broke him, she was his daughter, his baby, crying in his arms and asking him ‘why did he leave? Why did he leave me?’, that was his worst nightmare, not being able to answer his daughter questions ‘I don’t know’ he whispered, afraid that the words might tear him apart.”

She stopped in the thirty page and looked at Thomas, asking him if she should go on with the reading. Thomas looked at the clock, it was already midnight, he was tired, he could see she was too, but thinking of stopping right now wasn’t in his mind, and he could tell she was thinking the same.

“Go on, love” she nodded with a light smile

“Idora finally got up, her head was heavy, hurting a lot after last night. After crying for what she thought was two hours. She could still feel her father's arms around her, his attempts to comfort her. She felt embarrassed. And then she felt angry. Hasr didn’t have the right to make her feel ashamed or herself, he was the one who left, he should be the one embarrassed.”

Thomas was trying hard not to close his eyes by now, (Y/N)’s voice was too good, music to his ears, and the way she was caressing his hair was making it harder to keep focus and not fall asleep.

“How did she survive? The question repeated on Idora’s head. She had no idea. ‘How have I survived after losing the love of my life and my dad?’ She asked herself, but deep down she knew the answer. ‘I survived because there was nothing else I could do, too afraid to die, to scared to live, so I survived.’”

“That’s your favorite quote,” Thomas said, suddenly. (Y/N) looked at him with surprise.

“Yes” she tilted her head a little “you remember.”

“Of course I do, sweetheart.” His voice was in a low tone now, (Y/N) could see how much he wanted to listen more, but he was already tired.

“We can go to bed Tommy.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“It’s already two in the morning.”

“Just a few more pages,” he shrugged.

“Oh dear God, you said you’ll have a busy day tomorrow, you need to sleep” she insisted, already closing the book.

“I can take care of myself on my own” he stated.

“Rude.”

“Go on.” He knew he would win that fight, (Y/N) could never refuse reading out loud, it was something she liked too much.

“‘Oh, what must my dear father be thinking of me? Too miserable? A little bird in his cage?’ Idora hugged her body and let all the tears consume her. She had sworn, she had sworn she would never marry. So why was she doing this? Why was she lowering herself like that? She was desperate, desperate for a new life, for changing, for help, but she didn’t need it to do it this way. She’d had to recompose herself and find a solution, alone, again.”

Those were the last words Thomas listened to before falling asleep. Still in the armchair in (Y/N)’s living room, with her sitted in his lap, she only realized he was sleeping after five minutes. Then she stood up as quietly as possible and covered him with a blanket. He was too heavy for her to carry him alone to bed, but because she didn’t want to leave him alone for the night, she decided to sleep on the sofa, to be in the same room as him.

The next morning Thomas woke up with his body aching, but it was worth it when he saw her sleeping on the couch. He left a note for her at the center table and tried his best to leave the house without making any loud noises.

“Tomorrow at six o clock. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.” Said the note (Y/N) picked up later.

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

“What the fuck?” Whispered John for what should be the sixth time.

They all looked at the girl sitting in the snug, affectionately playing with Finn. They both were laughing at something only they could understand.

“How did you meet her?” John faced Thomas.

“Long story” Thomas shrugged, it wasn’t long at all, he became obsessed with her the minute he put his eyes on her. She was only walking, going to a friend’s house who lived next to watery lane. One day, for a mere coincidence, he bumped into her. “We met because of Priana’s daughter, Gabriela” it wasn’t all a lie.

“So this is the insane woman” Ada only shocked her head, too shocked and confused.

“Well, at least Finn likes her a lot,” Arthur pointed, scratching his beard in pure confusion. The girl in front of them was pretty different from their brother, too different.

“Of course he does” Polly said, but even in her usual harsh and sarcastic tone there was a hint of surprise “they speak the same language.”

Indeed, Finn was making some questions none of them had ever answered him in their house. “How do planes fly?” (Y/N) immediately started to explain what she had read in a book and how the structure of a plane worked. Finn's eyes shone when she started to draw the small parts of the plane in the air.

“She’s…” Arthur started, trying to define the lady in front of him “how old is she?”

“I thought the questions would be made for her” Thomas stared at him.

“She’s just, so... different?” Arthur tried, John was too shocked to be cocky, but still chuckled, more because he agreed with his older brother than because he was mocking his choice of words.

“This life is not for her Thomas” Polly simply said.

“She’ll not live this life.” He harshly retorted.

“She’ll marry you.” Polly looked at him in a worried way “what makes you think she’ll not live this life?”

“I’ll guarantee she won’t.” His tone indicated he didn’t want to talk about it anymore “now go on, talk to her, she came here to meet you, not to be observed.”

All of them walked to the table in the snug, in the minute (Y/N) walked inside of the Garrison with Thomas, all the adults got up from the table and went to talk in the pub common area, letting (Y/N) and Finn alone in the snug, they were too shocked to start the conversation they were planning when they saw her.

(Y/N) was all happy, despite her anxiety she got into the Garrison the same way as always. A huge smile on her face, little jumps when walking and a lot of noisy and brilliant bracelets accompanying her movements.

“So… you guys already finished talking?” She looked up at them, her expression pure curiosity and caution.

“Yes,” Polly quickly nodded.

“Good, ‘cause you were staring at me like I’m a puppy” Ada and John couldn’t hold their laughs, Arthur and Polly only smirked.

You are one. That was passing in everyone’s mind.

The beginning was strange. They didn’t know how to exactly talk to her, afraid of even speaking bad words in front of her. She was too different, like Arthur said. But after a while they all loosened up and talked to her normally, getting comfortable and getting used to her way. It was still impossible to understand how (Y/N) and Thomas had ended up together, but even they could understand why Thomas had fallen for her, just not the other way around.

“Such a lovely bride,” Polly whispered to Ada. She was being honest. Already enchanted by her.

“Too lovely for Thomas,” Ada answered “how could he fall for someone like her? Maybe he's not that heartless.”

“But she’s definitely insane.” John whispered too.

The girl had no idea what was happening, looking at Thomas with loving eyes and paying attention to every word letting his mouth. She had no clue what they were talking about.

Thomas stared at her and felt at peace. They could never understand, sometimes he didn't understand either. But she was his and that was enough.

𓂃 ♡︎ 𓂃

TAGS: @angelofthenight

2 years ago

another tommy thought ive not let go this morning is him being w a really talkative girl, and i mean she never shuts up; there's always something on her mind or something she remembers that she just has to tell him! and he listens patiently every single time she speaks, nodding along and adding commentary here and there and everyone is so perplexed by their relationship cos tommys essentially a stoic and hardly ever speaks whereas his gf can just keep going and going!

11 months ago

blank canvas: the epilogue.

Blank Canvas: The Epilogue.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache

notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Blank Canvas: The Epilogue.

Two Years Later

Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 

Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.

So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.

The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.

But one person was conspicuously absent. 

It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.

As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”

Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”

“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 

Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 

“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 

You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.

For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.

As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.

“Nii-san!”

“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Sukuna.

He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 

“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 

Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 

“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 

You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.

It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.

When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 

Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 

You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 

You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?

Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 

Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 

“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”

He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 

“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”

You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

“Mhmm.” 

The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.

“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 

Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 

— —

You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 

Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.

“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 

You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 

“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 

The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 

You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”

Oh.

Of course. 

What did you expect?

His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.

But it was all too late. 

He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”

Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.

“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”

You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.

He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.

But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 

“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”

“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 

Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”

You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”

He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”

As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.

As you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 

That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.


Tags
1 year ago

fr tho why is everything smut😭😭 i wanna read angst that would ruin me, make me sick to my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow bro i want a fanfic that is so devastating that i won't be able to function for the next few months

11 months ago

i hate sukuna because you could feel off one day and ask him ‘do you like me?’ as like, playful banter to feel normal again, and he’ll hold your chin and say ‘one of my ribs belongs to you.’ and act like it’s fucking nothing.


Tags
3 years ago
Reflections In A Winter Lake Oil On Canvas, 100 × 90 Cm Gustaf Fjæstad

Reflections in a winter lake oil on canvas, 100 × 90 cm Gustaf Fjæstad

2 years ago
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.
• The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Forgotten.

• The mortifying ordeal of being forgotten.

Danny Castillones Sillada, Those Sweet and Painful Memories // Artwork by @/zhihuie on twitter // V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue // Halsey, Angel on Fire // Steve Salo, Forgotten Art // Halsey, Angel on Fire // Sarah Thebarge, The Invisible Girls // Mitski, Working for the Knife // Artwork by @/bekysfairy on ig // Octavio Paz, tr. by Eliot Weinberger, from The Poems of Octavio Paz; “The Prisoner”

7 months ago
― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

“I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.” 

― Kahlil Gibran, The Madman

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

“All freedom is relative—you know too well—and sometimes it’s no freedom at all, but simply the cage widening far away from you, the bars abstracted with distance but still there, as when they “free” wild animals into nature preserves only to contain them yet again by larger borders. But I took it anyway, that widening. Because sometimes not seeing the bars is enough”

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

“Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”

― Toni Morrison, Beloved

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Jean-Paul Sartre

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.

― Maya Angelou, The Complete Collected Poems

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Franz Kafka, Amerika

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

― Viktor E. Frankl

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

“Freedom is the will to be responsible for ourselves.” 

― Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― E.B. White, The Trumpet of the Swan

“This tremendous world I have inside of me. How to free myself, and this world, without tearing myself to pieces. And rather tear myself to a thousand pieces than be buried with this world within me.”

― Kafka Franz, Diaries, 1910-1923

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― John Fowles, The French Lieutenant’s Woman

“And I want to be held down. I don’t know what to do with the horrifying freedom that can destroy me.”

― Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H.

― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

― Franz Kafka

2 years ago
— Heaven, Mieko Kawakami

— Heaven, Mieko Kawakami

[text ID: I knew that it was cruel to be so optimistic, but, in my solitude, I couldn't resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometimes verging on prayer.]

9 months ago
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You
Everything I’ve Ever Written Has Been About You

everything I’ve ever written has been about you

@peaceful-poetry / water lilies — claude monet / this is how you lose the time war — amal el-mortar and max gladstone / vanishing interior — suzanne buffam / water lilies — claude monet / and then i tried — rene ricard / i’m writing another poem about you — mira lightner / water lilies — claude monet

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gremlinsaurus - crimson mint.
crimson mint.

memoirs of the untold.

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