#and do i even have to talk about plants and growth...

[thebirdarts]

🌹 Elena & Dance Fever 🌹

Because I've been listing to Florence + the Machine non stop and they have amazing album covers 🌹

Roses<3 so red and green are her colours, and roses her flowers, but i swapped the night sky and moon for daylight and a sun, to reflect Elenas aspirations & her more joy seeking attitude- and similar with the plants, still roses, but now dethorned and protecting her as well as reaching out and for the skys.

#thebirdarts #gold & silver #María Elena #a lil bit of reasons for the alterations #under the cut #holy shit im so happy with this #its really hitting home just how much i have improved #Elena<33333333333333333333 #shes so sun coded [bringer of life & light] #and do i even have to talk about plants and growth... #i like this much more as my first proper finished piece of her #not because my wips were bad or something #but this just feels like the best of her<3 #gahhhhh HER!!!!!!!

[inkskinned]

but they don't care about the burnout. everyone is burnt out, they tell me. who isn't burnt out!

the good news is they don't say depression is a choice as much anymore, but the symptoms for burn out and depression are so hand-in-hand that they are mirror images of each other. but depression is serious. you're not depressed, you're just whiny. they barely change the script - don't be lazy! burn out is for people with real problems. burn out can be resolved with some fun candles and a day off work. burn out only happens in adults - no kid can be burnt out, after all; they've barely even had a life to live!

do you have a roof over your head and a steady job? you're not burnt out. so what if every night you wake up with a panic attack frothing inside your chest. you're lucky your problems are small. get back into plants or into yoga. shut up about it.

rich people get burnt out and go to fancy places. they get burnt out in their fancy offices with their real-people problems. they get burnt out and hire an assistant to help them never burn out again. you don't have the money to burn out. you don't have the two weeks to recover in a local spa. the job you come back to will still be stressful and hard.

you find yourself often wondering - does nobody remember about the pandemic? it seems almost like a joke or a punchline. being burnt-out was okay "during" the pandemic. now that people are back to ignoring covid, burnout is just-an-excuse again.

you google how to know if it's seasonal affective disorder or burnout. you google how to know if it's anxiety or it's burnout from working. you google how to know if my depression is back or i'm burning out badly.

coming back from burnout just leaves you covered in ashes, not new growth. you struggle to get back basics, and then - you're just supposed to get back up and keep going. every day the amount of tasks you are able to do seems to dwindle even further - where does the time go? why is everything moving so-fast-and-yet-so-slow?

my therapist and i were talking about how many people had latent mental illnesses that were triggered by the pandemic. how depression can be environmental and situational. i am annoyingly logic-driven about my own recovery - i like to be sure i'm working on the "right" thing. i tell her i feel like i'm lying. that it just might be burnout, and i need to stop complaining. she asks me what words come to mind when i think of burning.

oh, i guess i see.

we casually ignore the violence of being left empty.

#employers for 2 weeks during the pandemic: we know it's gonna be so so hard and we're here for you #week 3 day 1: now that we have been nice to you fucking get over it you weakling #do not worry this is not me romantically recalling the ''we're here for u'' overhead announcements #this is the opposite #side note #the new options to post????????? huh #gonna go write something VERY gay just to test it #(eventually. i skipped my meds by accident today so im nowhere)

[incorrectbatfam]

Do the batfamily members ever get too into their undercover work? (Undercover in an office and theyre worried about spreadsheets, working in a warehouse and coming home complaining about missing parts)

Bruce: Status updates on your undercover missions. Dick, you first. What have you got down at the docks?

Dick: I haven't confirmed the Killer Croc sightings yet, but more importantly, our catch hasn't been measuring up to last year's. Tuna we're doing okay on, but the salmon population seems to be on the low end. I've contacted the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries but it'll be another 3-5 business days before they can come down and check it out.

Bruce: At least you're doing something to help. Jason?

Jason: Class was okay. I think the kids are warming up to me as their substitute while Mrs. Maloney is out on maternity leave. The average on the last vocabulary quiz was 83.53% so either I'm doing my job right or they need to be challenged. I'm worried about Tristan Lancy, though. He's normally a good student but his grades have been dropping recently and his parents don't seem like safe people to tell. I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to pair him up with a peer tutor if he needs it.

Bruce: Also see if he has any alternate contacts besides his parents. Tim, any updates at the chemical plant?

Tim: If by updates you mean OSHA violations, I could go on all week. We got a batch of new recruits today and they were just thrown into the work—no PPE, no safety training, nothing. This is what happens when you place production over employee well-being. I'm gonna file a complaint after this meeting. Also, I think the union will have something to say about the manager cutting people's lunch breaks short.

Bruce: I see. Damian? Please tell me you found something volunteering at the zoo.

Damian: Depends on how you define "found." While I have not obtained evidence of a mutant larvae black market, I did help some of the animals at the sanctuary make progress with their recovery. Bobo the monkey is healing from his broken arms and we're gradually getting him re-acclimated to climbing higher surfaces. Suzie the black bear was born a little prematurely but seems to be catching up to her peers in terms of growth. Lastly, we got a grant for additional wildcat research and enrichment. As an aside, we are having an educational seminar on European mountain goats this Friday at 3:30 and I expect all of you to be there.

Bruce: I'll put that on our calendars. Steph?

Steph: It's not really undercover work for me, just work. Anyway, yes the newest Batburger location is being used for money laundering. But I really need to vent about the customers for a sec. We don't open until 10 and at 9:30 this morning some moron was banging on our door demanding Jokerized cheese fries. Then right in the middle of the lunch rush, Janie got sick so I had to fill in as the cashier and it was hell. After that, I had to step in between a fight at the drive-thru because the customer claimed we only gave him nine pieces of his ten-piece Robin nuggets and tried to beat up the kid who took his order. And to top it all off, an entire high school hockey team came in five minutes before closing.

Bruce: Cass?

Cass, blowing balloons: Can't talk. Arranging bat mitzvah.

Bruce: Duke, you're my last hope.

Duke: Margie's bringing a peanut butter chocolate cake to the bake sale. I swiped her recipe and we can easily beat her. Her ganache is way too watery and just runs off the top of the cake, which isn't even leveled. She's also trying to do something with a raspberry filling that isn't working at all. It's like she couldn't decide on what to bring. The bake sale committee also asked if we can bring some apple pies because the original baker has to go out of town for a family emergency. I think we'll win if we bring them with some ice cream and a touch of caramel, even though this isn't a contest.

Bruce: Thank you. At least our most critical case has been taken care of.

Barbara: ...I'll save my book launch for later.

#bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #duke thomas #signal #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #orphan #barbara gordon #oracle #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #dc comics

[dragonmuse]

Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #the strangest message sent #and no idea if it was on purpose #I kind of think it wasn't somehow #but boy howedy did it come across

[underestimated-heroine]

The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.

This is the shrimp guy story:

From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:

>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.

He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."

And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.

Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.

#posts i actually wrote #cw radical feminism #cw transphobia #incels

[headspace-hotel]

There's a plentiful supply of nature and ecology writers that criticize "Anthropocentrism" and tell readers that we shouldn't consider ourselves more important than other life forms, and then they write things that are like "We evolved to live in Nature in a Natural environment...Long ago humans lived as hunter-gatherers instead of farming and domesticating animals...But when civilization was created, man unnaturally subjugated and modified plants and animals...Bringing them under human control for his own benefit...Man replaces natural ecosystems with artificially created "post-natural" environments...Now humans live in an unnatural environment that is separated from Nature...and i'm like buddy. do you even hear yourself

Since I have access to a bigger library now, I've explored "deep ecology" and "green anarchism" and "Biocentrism" a bit more and what i've seen is still kinda silly. The writers have very thoughtful theory and philosophy of diverse subjects relating to morality, society, power, and liberation, but...they just don't know very much about Nature.

I mean several things by that: first, they're not clear on the boring, practical details of things like food systems and the way construction alters ecosystems, second, they don't try to clearly define what "nature" is, and third, they act like "nature" has a clear definition anyway.

Now nature is pretty much undefinable anyway, a couple possible definitions are "all things that exist, have existed, or are possible in the universe" and "the thing that a forest has that a parking lot doesn't." You can say "biodiversity," but every space has biodiversity, and it's not clear how much biodiversity a space is "supposed" to have, we're just going on vibes. And the vibes are right, in a way; I visited an old-growth forest and it was DIFFERENT than any place i'd ever been in a way that is hard to describe. A flourishing, biodiverse ecosystem is different than a parking lot, a lawn, a monoculture field of corn. They say it's good for your health to be "in nature." What does that mean? At what point does a place become "nature?" How many trees does it have to have?

Something that is so painful to me is when people write "Human activities" as a cause of biodiversity loss. This is an act of cowardice. WHICH human activities? Name them.

A lot of nature and ecology writings treat humans like they have an anti-biodiversity force field that emanates from them. They write like lands on Earth are each contested between two inversely proportional forces, "Nature" and "Humans."

Without any more information, this is ethereal bullshit on par with crystals having energies. I am totally perplexed at the lack of curiosity about the specific causes and details of "human impacts." The division of habitats by so many roads and relentless speeding of cars with no way for wildlife to cross...the dumping of massive amounts of poison into soils and water...the wounding and disturbance of topsoil...these are the "human activities," but we can imagine a world without such destruction, and we can create that world.

Too many essays and papers talking about Nature non-specifically, an Idea of Nature, a Concept that everyone just intuitively knows. Nature is...you know...wildness! and trees! and...well, you know, NATURE!

And we do know! When we step out into the parking lot surrounded by low, squarish buildings and blaring signs and the stink of car exhaust, we know that something is very wrong with this place! Even we find these horrible un-places harsh and unwelcoming.

But it is very hard to imagine something different, because the other type of place, the place that is beautiful and soothes the spirit and is full of life, is by definition the place where humans only go to visit, the complete opposite and inverse of a place where humans work and live! Wherever humans live, shop, eat, fulfill their daily needs, that place is Not Nature.

The huge mistake, is that we believe that it is necessary to have places that are Not Nature. We believe that for humans to exist, areas must be set aside where the very concept of Nature is utterly obliterated.

From this imaginary and dismal point of view, we have to carefully confine our own lives to places that are utterly poisoned, sterilized, made into a hostile wasteland, and leave all the rest of the living biosphere to itself in pristine preserves.

And in this imaginary and dismal point of view, the one that divides Earth into Nature and Humans, it is okay to poison and to sterilize and to destroy, because humans must live SOMEWHERE, therefore Nature must be utterly excluded from at least SOME of Earth.

BUT...WHAT IF EVERYWHERE IS NATURE? What if the dandelions in the cracks of the pavement, the lichens growing on the park bench, the wildflowers on the side of the road, the sparrows in the parking lot—what if they are all Nature just as much as anything else? What if they too are sacred? What if it is our responsibility to see the connectedness of all life and to care for all ecosystems, however broken and hurt they may be?

What if Nature is not distant and abstract, untouched in some pristine place, but always reaching out, digging into the crumbled concrete and gravel and compacted ground, clawing to return to us and bring us back home?

It does not take away from the value of the old-growth forest or the unplowed prairie if we open our eyes and see even the scraggliest patch of overgrown weeds for the powerful manifestation of Nature it truly is.

Nature is not a place or a thing. Nature is the Movement, the Endless Happening, constantly alive throughout all life, the way of all things being family, the way of all things taking care of each other, the way of all life being constantly transformed through one another. You breathe the breath of the trees of your home, you drink the water of the streams of your home, you eat the sunlight that falls on your home, grown in the soil where all things go to be transformed through death into a new form of life, fed by the mycorrhizal network, pollinated by the bees, wasps, flies, and moths, nourished by the bone, blood and manure of beasts, and ultimately the fertile river valleys where agriculture first began, were replenished by the rich silt that washed down the river, which came from the forests in the mountains that shed their leaves to make a feast for a million decomposing critters, which is how the rich soil is made.

In this way they all take care of you, and in return you are asked to Live—to take care of them in return, to live as part of the great family of everything alive, to live, to live

What are human activities...? Deforestation? Mining? Spraying pesticides? Building housing developments? But is that all? Are we inherently a "bad" and "destructive" species, or is our ability to acquire and pass down knowledge, use tools and novel behaviors, alter our surroundings, shape ecosystems, adapt our lifestyles almost infinitely, and persist in almost any environment, simply incredibly powerful for good or for evil?

First of all, what better way to demonstrate a contrast to anthropocentrism...than to compare the impact of humans alone to the impact of an ENTIRE KINGDOM OF LIFE, the fungi????? Of course all of Fungi are more important than one single species??? Wtf?!?!?

But also, we should not convince ourselves of our own insignificance and worthlessness to the biosphere, because in the same way that individual self-loathing can be a way to avoid the hard work of loving oneself and advocating for the love one deserves, collective self-loathing as a species is a way of avoiding the responsibility we have to other life forms.

How can this author not think of a single role Humans play in the ecosystem?? What species plants trees, saves seeds, documents rare plants, rescues injured animals and heals them, raises orphaned chicks, manages controlled burns, digs ponds, thoughtfully harvests in anticipation of future seasons, mercifully culls in understanding of suffering that cannot be fixed? What species writes a new chapter in the genome of the American Chestnut so it can be saved from extinction? What species mends the broken kakapo egg with sticky tape? What species addresses their own habitat with that fondest name of Home?

#nature #we are a keystone species #you are a caretaker #humans

[heartfullofleeches]

Omg I just want Spider Queen Yan to see Darling talking to like a maid or servant and just descend from the ceiling and snatch us up

Can I be 🪻anon pretty please

Yan Spider Queen + Royal Darling

"Your belladonnas are in full bloom, your highness."

What perfect timing. Since your marriage to the formerly disgraced queen, you haven't had any time to tend to your garden yourself. Once upon a time, it had been a safe haven from all your troubles. The expectations thrust upon you by loved ones, the mockery of those in your kingdom who knew you'd never live up to kings and queens of past lives had not weight on you within those four walls. As your bond with her grew, it wasn't long before that same security could be found in your bride's arms.

The duty of caring for your garden was placed into the hands of your most trusted staff as you spent all your hours with her. Though there should be no secret between you, you were rather embarrassed of the state of your garden and had faith your servants would care for your dear plants till you had the heart to weed out the imperfections.

The maid offers the flowers to you in a clear, glass vase - a pair of gloves rested next to the piece on its tray. Amaryllis belladonna, a gorgeous specimen, yet its toxins can be absorbed by touch alone. Your family forbid such dangerous flowers in the past, but there was no one left to stop you now.

Creak-

"...Did you hear that?"

Equipping your gloves, a small groan rasps from the walls of your castle. Could possibly be the floor setting - but even that didn’t seem to be the cause. You look to your left, then your right - returning your gaze to the equally as puzzled maid who politely shakes her head.

"I didn't hear a thing."

"Hm.... Ah, well-" Adjusting your gloves, you pluck a single lily from the vase - bending foward to catch it as it slides from your fingertips. The vibrant pink is a stark contrast to the blacks of your gloves. If only you could witness their beauty in its truest form. In a way, this flower reminded you a lot of her. Your wife couldn't be touched most circumstances, but with the right tools-

Wait a second-

Have you....always been this much taller than this maid? She was on the shorter side than other's amongst your staff, but now it appeared that though you're an entire head taller - and growing. It's at this same moment the weightlessness beneath your feet becomes apparent. The ends of your shoes scrape the floorboards briefly before you're suddenly pulled back through the air like a puppet on its strings. The maid's eyes bulge in horror as numerous, shadowy limbs descend from the high ceiling - sharp claws snipping the strings tied to the back of your clothing as you fall into your beloved arms.

"Oh... It's you. For a moment there I thought I had gone through a rather late growth spurt."

As happy as you are to see her, the pleasantries don't seem to be as mutual for your wife. Posion oozes from her fangs, all eyes turned on the little pest who dared step towards what was her without her permission. A frightened yelp sounds from the girl as the carpet at her feet sizzles from the downpour of venom dripping from your wife's jaws. She looked about ready to rip the poor thing limb from limb. That won't do-

"And....perfect!"

Strains of stray hair fall into the queen's face as you tuck the lily behind her ear. Considering she is no longer human, you doubt it'd have any effects on her. The softness in her two sideview eyes settles to over remainder of her once sharp, vicious gaze.

"My Belladonna.... You have to do better about this temper of yours...."

Belladonna...? That is not her name. She hasn't had one in....centuries. A tear stains her cheek, brushed away by your gentle touch.

"I'm sorry, it's just now that I've realized I have nothing to call you by. Is that okay - or would you prefer... Amaryllis?"

"Either....Either is alright as long as it's from you."

Hurried footsteps trail away from the scene as your overprotective wife embraces you - making sure to rid the posion from her lips as she kiss you as if it were her last.

#🪻 devil #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere teratophilia #female yandere #yandere drabble #Yandere queen

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty Four

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Did y'all bring your umbrellas and washcloths? Cause it gets a bit messy in this.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus

NOAH

“So are you saying there’s a new Bad Omens music video on the horizon?” 

With a trick smile, I adjusted my position in the chair and shrugged to the camera on my computer. “Uh, yeah. I can’t tell you which one but it’ll be out there soon.” 

The group of people who were interviewing me via Zoom cheered until one of them asked the next question. It went like this for a few more minutes and I did my best to pay attention and not reach for my phone. Tonight was important and even with how poised and professional I looked during the interview, my knee was bouncing under my desk with nerves. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, Michael giving me shit for stressing out about nothing. 

“It’s Y/N, you know she’d be fine with just an easel and new paints,” he chuckled while watching me set up Y/N’s studio. 

I paused setting up the plants on a shelf to turn towards him. “I know. But she deserves this; all of this. She needs a place to escape by herself for a little while.” 

“You have to relax,” Michael rested his hands on my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes. “You need to enjoy the new beginnings of your relationship. You and Y/N love each other, that’s what matters. Not how many plants she has.” 

Shaking my head from the earlier memory, I hummed towards the interviewer. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” 

She chuckled. “We’ve seen some growth vocally on this new record from the last. Can you give us a little insight on that?” 

With a nod, I divulged how I recently started working with a vocal coach who helped bring out this side of me that I had always hidden under a veil of self-doubt and insecurities. 

Suddenly my phone buzzed on the desk and I quickly peered down at it, my heart jumping into my throat. 

Angel 🪽: I’m walking out of therapy right now, I’ll be home and ready to go in an hour! 

While the interviewers chatted amongst themselves briefly, I typed out a fast response before taking a long drink of my coffee. 

Me: No rush, angel. We have all night. I should be finishing up this interview soon. 

Another question and another answer. It went on like this for a few minutes until I noticed another text from Y/N. 

Angel 🪽: You already got coffee?🥺 

My heart dropped when I saw that emoji because I could vividly picture her soft lips in a pout just like it. Her bright eyes wide. 

Me: Don’t do that, you know I can’t resist that face you pull.  Jolly brought it from Fika. Astrid made an extra by mistake. We can swing by and get you one.

Thankfully, my hands were just off camera so no one who was watching would be able to see my texting. 

Wait. 

Me: Wait, are you watching? You little sneak.

Deciding to give my attention back to the interview, I finished it within the next thirty minutes and thanked them with a wide smile before clicking out of Zoom. Standing up from the desk in the studio, I read Y/N’s message as I trotted down the stairs toward my bedroom. 

Angel 🪽: Of course, I’m watching. I watch all of your interviews. I also love teasing you. I already stopped by Fika after therapy. I will say that I’m excited about what you have planned for later. 

Veering left instead of right, I stepped inside Y/N’s art studio and stood in the middle of the room, assessing every inch of it to make sure it was absolutely perfect. The memory of earlier today stumbling inside with both arms full of bags that contained a variety of different paint and drawing supplies. The guys merely smirked as they saw me struggling even having a bag hanging from my teeth before I motioned to the outside with my head and mumbled two words. 

Help. Car.

The studio was perfect and spotless when I made sure that everything was where it needed to be. As I headed across the hall into my bedroom to finish getting ready, I sent a text to Y/N; one she responded to almost immediately. 

Me: I can’t wait. I love you.

Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi. 

READER

“Oh my god, I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite,” I groaned while stepping out of Noah’s car as he held the door open for me. 

“Greek was a good choice, huh?” He chuckled as he walked around the car towards me; a little bell jingling behind him. 

I looped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. “You know I’d never turn down a chance for Greek food.” 

“I never thought I’d be such a fan of it. I’ve always thought it was just gyros. The spinakorprita was good.” 

I stifled my laugh into his bicep. “It’s spanakopita.” 

“Spa-na-ko-pi-ta.” 

Noah sounded out slowly and I kissed his shoulder. “Good job! Pretty soon I’ll have you fluent in Greek and we can visit Greece.” 

He brushed a kiss along my forehead and I peered down at the feline that rubbed his face along Noah’s leg. 

“Are you sure he’s okay on the harness?” I bit my lip. “He can’t slip out of it?” 

“Salem is fine, angel. He loves this thing. You should have seen him running through the grass when I had him a couple of months ago.” 

To reassure me worries, however, Noah picked up Salem to hold him against his chest, our cat purring loudly as I pressed a kiss on his head. 

“Thank you for letting me bring him. I figured it would be good to get him acclimated here in case you have to watch him for me,” I said as we began walking up towards the house. 

“I’ve been wanting to show him the new cat tree I bought him,” Noah smiled. 

When we came to a stop at his front door I untangled myself from him and then reached inside my purse for my camera. 

“Angel,” he started. 

Waving him off, I backed away a few feet and motioned to him to stay there. “Just one picture in front of the house. You look so cute tonight. Plus, I need a picture of my boys.” 

Even with the dim street light but the bright glow of the moon, I saw the red hue cover Noah’s cheeks with my compliment, and eventually, threw up his trademark peace sign with one hand and continued to hold Salem in the other. 

Snapping a few different poses, I pocketed the Polaroids after they printed and skipped back toward Noah, who had opened the front door and allowed me to step inside the quiet house. 

“Where is everyone?” I wondered. 

Noah hung up his keys on the hook next to the front door. “Movies. The local theater is playing the old Japanese version of Godzilla.” 

“You turned that down?” I asked with wide eyes. “You love old Japanese movies.” 

“No place I’d rather be than right here, with you,” he mused while wrapping his arms around me to place a chaste kiss on my lips. 

“How sweet,” I cooed while patting his chest. 

Noah let Salem off the harness so he could explore the house, he immediately found the cat tree and curled up in the top bed part. 

Something was bothering Noah, however, no matter how bright he smiled. I could sense it in the way he kept fidgeting with his hands during dinner to how often he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel on the way back to his house. 

“What’s on your mind?” I questioned while palming his cheek. 

He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I want to show you something.” 

“You do?” My heart fluttered. 

Linking our fingers together, Noah led me down the hallway towards his room, but we veered left instead to stop in front of a closed door. With our hands on his chest, I felt the rapid beat of his heart and let out a low laugh. 

“Mochi, your heart is racing,” I said. 

He nodded. “I’ve been working on something the last few months since I’ve moved in trying to make it perfect. I think I’ve annoyed both my roommates and yours.” 

“Chase and Malcolm know about this?” I questioned. 

“Yeah. They sent me some of the products you use, your favorite brands; things like that. I wanted to make sure that you don’t have to worry about lugging things back and forth,” Noah shifted on his feet. 

“Okay, what is it?” I bounced on my heels with excitement. “You’ve already surprised me with the vanity. What do you have hiding behind that door? 

I gasped. “Is it a puppy?! No, wait. That wouldn’t make sense.” 

Noah chuckled while cupping my face to leave a kiss on my forehead. “No puppy. Maybe down the road.” 

“Well, will you show me already? I’m getting antsy!” I patted his chest before messing with his chain between my fingers. 

I still wore my matching set, never taking them off. 

“Close your eyes,” he ordered. 

With a pout, I tried to get out of doing it but instead, Noah covered my vision with his large hand. Feeling his presence behind me, I heard the door click open and he led me inside the room. The hand over my eyes shook so I grazed my fingers over the back of it, letting him know that he didn’t have to be nervous. 

“I want to make sure you love it, angel,” Noah pressed a kiss behind my ear. “OK. Are you ready?” 

“Yes!” I exclaimed. 

Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, a hand went to my mouth as a gasp fell from my lips. It was overwhelming and almost too many different things to take in, I didn’t know where to look first. 

There were four different-sized easels in each corner of the room. 

An angled desk in front of the large window, one that people would use to draw on. 

Three shelves above that desk held various paints, brushes, and charcoals. 

Plants littered almost every inch of space that wasn't overtaken with painting supplies. 

The closet in the room was wide open, showcasing even more stock of supplies and different size canvases. 

The best part? Hardwood floors. 

With tears in my eyes, I slowly turned back to Noah, standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back. 

“So?” 

“I-,” I cleared my throat when the words came out jumbled. “You did this?” 

“Yeah. I wanted to give you your own space here. To come too whenever you wanted, even if I wasn’t home,” he wrung his hands together. 

“Really?” I choked out. “Don’t you think you should maybe check with the guys about having me come over here all the time unannounced?” 

“Angel,” he took a step towards me and grabbed my hands, his thumb brushing mine. “Jesse was the one that suggested I give you a key.” 

My eyes doubled. “A key?” 

Noah now dug into his pocket to pull out a black key, gently setting it in my open palm. “I want you to have a place to come and stay. I’m not asking you to move completely in, but if it's getting a little stuffy in that small apartment with Chase and Malcolm, you and Salem can come to spend the night here.” 

I let out a small chuckle, a few tears falling from my eyes, and then held the key close to my chest. “You gave me all of this but I have nothing in return, Noah.” 

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and mused. “Your love is enough, Y/N.” 

“I love you. Thank you for all of this.” I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms around him. 

“I love you too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, welcome to the other part of our first date.” 

I gazed up at him through lashes. “We’re going to paint?” 

“Now, I’m not a professional like you,” he snorted before pulling me over to two easels that were next to each other. “But I thought it would be a cute idea.” 

“I would not call myself a professional.” 

“Still better than me,” Noah said. 

I raised a playful brow while crossing my arms over my chest. “Want to make this interesting?” 

He smirked while resting his hands on my hips. “I’m all ears, angel.” 

“Whoever has the worst painting has to get the winner's birthday tattooed on them.” 

“Oh, it’s a bet,” he sealed it with a kiss. 

Noah pulled out the little stool for me to which I sat with a smile, pulling up the ends of my yellow maxi skirt to sit comfortably. While Noah busied himself with setting up music to play from the Bluetooth speaker, I removed my jacket to set it neatly on the ground at my feet. 

“Do you want an old shirt of mine to change into?” He asked while pointing to my white top. 

I noticed that Noah had shed his gray button-up and was wearing a blank tank top. I licked my lips at the site of his muscles, the tattoos suddenly seeming more fitting now that he had been working out a lot more. 

Remind me to thank Ash. 

Snapping my eyes away from the broadness of his chest, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, mochi. Thank you though. I don't typically make a mess.” 

“Hm, the paint stains on the dining room carpet say otherwise,” he teased. 

Playfully smacking Noah’s arm, we both got settled as the music filtered into the air and I got lost in my mind, painting whatever my soul called for. We found ourselves in a peaceful quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence. Every so often I would glance over to Noah, making sure that he was enjoying himself only because I knew painting wasn't for everyone. 

He had narrowed eyes of precision as he stroked the brush wave after wave against the canvas. From this angle, I couldn’t see what he was painting. Instead, I leaned over to rummage in my purse, pulled out my Polaroid camera, and snapped a few shots of Noah before one of me, with him in the background. I set the pictures on the desk next to me before getting back to my painting. 

“How’s it going over there?” 

Noah’s soothing voice brought me out of my trance and I glanced over at him with a smile. “Good, I’m almost finished. What about you?” 

“Promise you won't laugh?” 

“Of course, mochi.” 

I made a show of crossing my heart but let out a squeal of laughter when Noah hooked his foot around the foot of the stool and dragged me over towards him. He gave me a quick kiss but still wouldn’t let me see what he painted. 

“I’ve been told I’m a great artist, granted that was in the second grade,” Noah chuckled before finally showing me his canvas and what he spent the last thirty minutes painting. 

I covered my mouth with a hand not to stifle a gasp but instead a laugh. He painted stick figure versions of him, me, and Salem in front of a house; even with the bright yellow sun in the corner of the canvas. 

“Wow,” I nodded. “All I’ll have to say is don’t quit your day job, mochi.” 

Noah scoffed. “Fuck, that was cold. But it's true. There’s a reason why I’m a musician, not a painter. I’ll leave that to you, angel.” 

“I love it!” I beamed while ruffling his hair and laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’ll hang it up above my bed.” 

“What did you paint?” He wondered. 

“Oh nothing too important, just some abstract colors. I didn’t really have an actual vision. I kind of let the paint speak to me as I go,” I said. 

When I showed him my painting, Noah’s eyes glinted and he smiled. “I like it. I’ll have to hang this above my bed.” 

“So I think it’s safe to say that I won the bet? And now you have to get my birthday tattooed on you,” I grinned while going about to clean up the paint and brushes. 

When Noah didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder to see that he had a very sly smirk playing on his lips and I popped my hip out, resting a hand on it. 

“Noah Sebastian. Did you purposely lose this bet so you could get my birthday tattooed?” 

He hummed along to the song playing on the speaker, still not answering my question but never getting rid of that smirk on his face. His silence, however, was exactly the answer I needed. 

What a cheeky little...

With the dirty paintbrush in my hand, I flicked it over at Noah, the leftover paint spraying over his chest when he turned towards me. His eyes bounced down to the paint splatter over his black tank top to me, a shocked expression on his face. 

“Did you just throw paint on me?” 

I shrugged. “Oops?”

“Really? Oops?” Noah dipped a larger paintbrush into a handful of different colors before throwing it all over my face and neck. 

“NOAH!” I screeched with a boisterous laugh. 

Suddenly, he picked me up to twirl me in the air before tackling me onto the ground then started painting my arms and neck as I found underneath him. 

“I’m sorry!” I giggled while trying to reach for the paintbrush I dropped; fingertips grasping at it. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m busy painting a masterpiece,” Noah responded, painting shapes on my cheek now. 

With my fingers finally grasping the brush, I flicked some paint into his hair, covering it in bright pinks, blues, and yellows. Our peals of laughter overpowered the music still playing in the room and eventually, after we both were covered in pain, I threw up my hands in surrender. 

“OK!” I chuckled breathlessly. “You win. You win.” 

Noah kissed me, smearing the paint over my lips. “Damn straight I do.” 

Somehow in the shuffle of our paint fight, I managed to straddle Noah, who lost his tank top; it was destroyed due to all the paint. So he lay shirtless underneath me and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight of him with his arm propping his head up and his tattoos on full display for only me to devour. 

Reaching up towards my easel, I grabbed a few different paints and clean brushes before settling back on Noah’s hips, getting to work on painting the flowers of his chest piece. 

He hummed at the feeling of the cool brush and let his eyes flutter shut for a long moment, reveling in the feeling of me on top of him. And not in a sexual way but in a way of knowing that I was here and not going anywhere. 

“Am I an adult coloring book for you?” Noah questioned after he took a few Polaroid pictures of me painting him.

“Maybe,” I teased with a glance down at his face. 

His chest was a vibrant picture of greens, reds, and oranges. I was working on painting the headband in the girl's hair when he spoke again. 

“Well don’t stop, I like this form of meditation.”

Once the round frame was painted gold, I adjusted my position so I could sign my name just above the words across his sternum. 

Noah opened one eye and smiled. “I see you signed your work.”

“I did because you’re not it anymore.” I pressed a soft kiss along each letter. 

“I’m not what?” He breathed in pleasure, slightly arching off the ground. 

“You’re no longer desolate,” I promised into his skin then took a couple of Polaroid pictures of my masterpiece. 

Noah let out a soft noise from the back of his throat when his strong hand wrapped around the back of my neck to pull me down to his lips, we met in a fiery, air-bending kiss. Every single fiber of my soul blazed with such passion I melted into his embrace, folding into him as we became one. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, lapping up the strawberry chapstick I applied in the car earlier, him humming in delight. 

I adjusted myself as I lay flat on Noah, his hands running up and down the skin of my back underneath my shirt. The heat radiated off of him making my insides flare with so much desire that I was practically burning up at his touch. 

“Noah,” I whined when his lips began attacking my neck. 

When he pulled away, his almond eyes gazed up at me with pupils blown wide with lust; pure black over taking his eyes. 

“How about I run you a bath?” His thumb brushed along my bottom lip, voice hoarse from our kiss. 

“I’d like that a lot,” I beamed. 

NOAH

I sat on the edge of the tub to check the temperature of the water making sure it was perfect before adding the bubbles and bath salts. As it began to fill up, I peered through the open bathroom door to gaze over at Y/N who was sitting at her vanity taking off her makeup. My heart swelled in my chest when I noticed how relaxed she was, as if she was meant to be there; here with me. 

Sitting here in observation, it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been so lost in constructing scenarios for tonight that I was surprised to see how far I’d come. Y/N’s movements were so fluid, so serene as she gently wiped everything off her face and neck. I’d never been so jealous of a makeup towelette before. 

Observing her using the vanity table I fussed over for weeks made my stomach flutter, the ongoing moment of quiet bliss was by far my favorite way to let time tick by.

Waiting here offers me time to let my mind escape the boundaries of the ordinary. From where I sat here in the bathroom, watching her carefully with the faintest of smiles, I knew I wanted this view for the rest of my life. After all the bullshit endured on and off over the years, for both of us, this was what I got to see. 

Watching Y/N was such a gift, a blessing of time. Something I vowed right now that I wouldn’t take for granted.

Shaking off the excess water after checking the temp, I turned off the tub and walked into the bedroom with a light spring in my step. I snuck up behind Y/N and rested my chin on top of her head, watching her smile in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Your bath is ready, angel,” I informed. 

She reached for my left hand to lay a gentle kiss on the floral design. “You mean, our bath is ready.” 

I raised a brow at her when she stood and led me into the bathroom with her. 

“Wait, what?” 

Y/N chuckled at the slight confusion in my voice. “You heard me. You’re covered in paint too, Noah. You need to clean up.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck as we stood together in the bathroom. “I was-uh- going to take a shower once you were finished. I don’t want to pressure you into-.” 

“Stop overthinking this,” she cupped both sides of my face and pressed a kiss to my nose. “I want you to join me if you’re comfortable with it.” 

I may have nodded a little too eagerly but it didn't bother her. 

“I’d love that, angel.” 

While she shed her clothes, I stepped out of my pants and briefs, both of us watching each other with such inferno in our eyes and when we were naked, Y/N reached for my hand. She stepped into the tub first then me, positioning myself behind her. Even though it was a larger tub, it was still a snug fit for the both of us so to make sure she had enough room, I kept my long legs bent; my knees breaking the surface of the water. 

“Oh this is perfect,” Y/N groaned while leaning herself into my chest. 

Reaching for her shampoo, I went to work scrubbing the paint out of her hair, my nails scraping along her scalp. Her fingers traced over the rose tattoo on my knee, delicately following the design. 

“What’s on your mind, angel?” I questioned after rinsing out her hair and then applying the conditioner. 

“You’ve really thought about everything, huh? You have all of my products here so I don’t ever have to bring a bag over?” 

The giggle that erupted from her throat made something twinge inside of me. 

I kissed her shoulder. “I’ve already told you. This is your home just as much as your apartment is. We can bounce back and forth as long as you want.” 

Once she was completely clean of the dried paint, Y/N turned to position herself on my lap to face me. The head of my cock brushed along her folds and I grasped at her hips, trying not to let my hormones push her too far. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

She smiled and reached for my shampoo. “You washed me. Let me wash you now.” 

Sighing in content, I sat back against the tub to let Y/N wash my hair. Her fingers worked meticulously in scrubbing out the paint. 

“You know,” she shifted herself on me and I choked on a groan. 

Surely she had to know what she was doing. 

“While I love how you look with this new haircut. I really do miss your long hair.” 

I gazed up at her, tracing the drop of water that trailed down her neck, over the silver chain, and between the valley of her breasts that were just peeking above the bubbles. 

I licked my lips, tongue begging to trace the water in its wake, but refrained. 

“Imagine if you gave yourself bangs. You’d be in your Shelby era,” Y/N chucked while moving my hair in a certain way so I could have bangs. 

I glanced over to the mirror above the sink and smirked at the sight of us in the tub, especially me with bangs. 

“You think so?” I asked. 

“You can pull off any look, mochi.” 

She gently went about washing the paint off my chest with the loofah while I continued to watch her. 

“You’re staring,” her eyes flicked up at me. 

“I love you,” I brushed away the wet strands of hair from her face. 

“I love you too,” Y/N kissed the freckles on my shoulder. 

Once again we found ourselves in our previous position, her back to my chest, and we sat there for some time as the water began to chill. Although neither of us was ready to get out yet. 

“Noah?” 

Snapping my eyes open, I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah?” 

Y/N shifted a bit in my embrace and with how she was wading her fingers through the water, I knew something heavy was on her mind. 

“Do you think we could listen to Bad Decisions?” 

My body stilled behind her. I knew at some point we would have to talk about the songs I wrote when I was in the dark parts of my life but it still didn't prepare me for the moment it happened. 

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

She turned slightly in my arms to leave an array of kisses on my chest. 

“I know you were in a dark place when you wrote it. It holds bad memories so I’d like to create new memories for this song with you if you want to.” 

“I’d want nothing more, Y/N,” I whispered into her hairline. 

After asking the Alexa device on the bathroom counter to play the song, I let my voice echo in the confines of the room. Y/N eased into my embrace as I linked our fingers together while I sang along with the words in a hushed tone. She hummed along with me as our bodies swayed together in the water. 

“No God. No religion. Just you,” I vowed when the song faded out, cupping her cheek so I could kiss her lips. 

Without missing a beat, Y/N returned the kiss just as slowly as I, our tongues lazily fighting for dominance as her hand snaked behind my neck to play with the wet strands of hair. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against my lips. 

Pulling away, I remained holding her face but furrowed my brows. “What are you apologizing for?”

Her gaze left mine. “I just hate that it took us so long to get here. I know we talked about everything at the party but I still feel the need to apologize for everything.” 

“It’s not all on you, angel. I did some things I wasn’t proud of during our time apart and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.” 

“Stop, Noah,” Y/N straddled me again to hold my chin with a stern grasp, the water sloshing around us. “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. I’ve already told you all is forgiven. Please stop letting that moment of weakness eat away at you.” 

I blinked away the burning tears in my eyes and cleared my throat. “I only want to make better memories with you. I know in the beginning I couldn’t communicate, even now it’s a bit hard for me, especially with everything that happened. It was a mess and I apologize too.” 

Y/N bent low to kiss me; it was slow at first but soon became heavy with passion when her tongue slipped between my lips. Her hips began grinding against my cock revving me up with such force, I wrapped my hand around her neck with my thumb against the pulse point in her neck. 

Breaking free from the kiss, I dragged my teeth along her jawline and then down her neck. 

“Noah,” Y/N breathed. “I love you.” 

Her pussy was now brushing over the head of my cock and every inhibition with me wanted to plunge myself deep inside of her, feel her grip me with that vice grip I’ve missed and longed for.

Something inside of my chest rumbled before I realized it was my voice. 

“How many have you loved before me?” I rasped as my tongue brushed over her nipple. 

Y/N arched herself back so she could fully expose herself to me. “None.” 

With one hand holding her throat, my other slipped between our bodies underneath the now-freezing water to glide over the slit between her legs. I attacked her lips again with a ravenous desire, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“And after me?” I demanded to know, slipping a finger inside of her finally. 

“None,” she moaned while digging her nails into the skin of my shoulders. 

Trembling fingers trace Y/N’s skin. To be in her company is a little slice of heaven as if her aura were an elixir. Emotions swam in our eyes, in our body language, and the inflections of her voice. 

She was the one who I thought of when I needed to restart my heart and rekindle my soul; for so long I kept that to myself. Feeling the intensity of her intelligence, Y/N’s words were my medicine.

Deep inside I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve over-explained my feelings to compensate for what hadn’t been said. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t shake the fear of losing her. She needed to know where I stood, where we belonged. 

Soulmates. 

To be a possessor? I don’t know if you’d call it that. I yearned to be her protector, the one who held her heart in my hands, just as she held mine. These large hands are secured. I would grant her any wish in my power, to be the one who will always love her.

My fingers worked in sync as I pumped them in and out of her. She squirmed in my grasp, and the head of my cock nearly slipped inside of her. Every single part of me was sensitive to her touch and it felt like any moment I would combust underneath her. 

Peering up at her face, I noticed that there was worry pulling tight in her forehead. 

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” I asked briefly, stopping. 

“No, you’re fine,” Y/N reassured me with a kiss on my forehead. “It’s just-.” 

When her words trailed off, I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Talk to me, angel.” 

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “The water is really cold and I was hoping we could move this to the bed.” 

A playful smirk pulled on my lips and just before agreeing, I was struck with a thought. 

“How far do we want to take this?” 

“Noah, I can’t wait anymore. I need this. I need to feel connected to you again,” she rubbed herself against me. 

Shit. 

Even though I was ready for this, something was keeping me from lifting her out of this tub and tossing her on the bed to feel all of her again. The last time we slept together, it ended in disaster and heartbreak. I was stronger than I was back then but I don’t know if I could recover if it were to happen again. 

It won’t. 

It was as if Y/N’s soul could feel the pain in mine because she cupped both sides of my face so I had no choice but to meet her gaze. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. I’m right here. Always.” She reassured me with a firm nod, not an ounce of lies behind her bright eyes. 

I kissed her palm. “I know. Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”

“You’re not, Noah. I want this. I need this. I need to be connected to you so deeply, that it feels like we’ll never be apart again.” 

Her hand wrapped around my cock, pumping it up and down under the chilled water. By now the bubbles have dissipated and I peered through the clear water to choke on my moan. 

“We won’t,” I promised. 

Y/N’s warm breath fanned over the shell of my ear. “Please, Noah. I need you to fuck me.” 

READER

I erupted with laughter as Noah dropped my wet body on top of the bed. Resting up on my elbows, I gazed over his naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed. Water traced every bend and groove of his muscles and the tattoos that littered his skin were something that seemed to surprise me each time. 

When my gaze lowered to his cock, a starved moan fell from my lips and I licked them hungrily. 

“Y/N?” 

I hummed while tearing my gaze away from him to look into his eyes. 

“If you feel any pain, please let me know,” he said. 

“I’m okay,” I nodded. “I promise.” 

Noah towered over me as he crawled up the bed, droplets of water falling from his hair onto my chest. His chain hung just above my lips as I looked up at him, spreading my legs when his fingers tickled the inside of my thigh. 

“I want to make love to you tonight, angel. Will you let me?” He asked into the crook of my neck. 

“Please,” I nodded vigorously. 

Once more, Noah’s fingers slipped between my folds to gently tease me, slowly dragging them up and down. I whined in protest and dug my nails into his back, feeling his muscles tense from my touch. When the pad of his calloused finger pressed against my clit, I arched my chest into his, the itch I felt from the moment we were in the tub together finally being scratched. 

My knees buckled when his finger twirled in fast circles and when Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple, before slowly trailing down my stomach. The warm wetness of his tongue flicked over my nub when he replaced his fingers. His lips wrapped around my clit to suck up my arousal. 

“Noah,” I hissed. “So good.” 

I ran my fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to me as the coil in my stomach pulled tight. I’d been on edge all night, I knew I wouldn’t last long. And it was like Noah knew or understood because his tongue speared inside of me, in and out, before rubbing against my clit again. 

Stars danced at the edge of my vision, nearly overtaking my gaze when I looked down at Noah between my legs. His face was buried there as if he was meant to be there. I brushed away the hair from his face just for his eyes to meet mine, his tongue darting in and out of me. There was pure darkness in his eyes when his hand ran up my stomach and torso to grasp at the silver chain around my neck. He wrapped it around his fingers, pulling taunt, and I felt the breath leave my lungs briefly. Before I could say anything, Noah loosened the grip but still held onto the chain. 

I raised my hips off the bed to try and get closer to his mouth when his tongue began to slow, fearing that maybe he was getting tired. But I was so close that my body ached with the release it so desperately needed. 

With a tight hold against the back of his head, I tensed my legs and core when he flattened his tongue. Now I rubbed myself against his tongue and my moans echoed throughout the room. I couldn’t even warn him that I was about to cum because my orgasm washed over me without warning. Noah hummed in delight when my arousal coated his lips and chin; it dripped from him and he gathered it up with a finger before sucking it clean himself.

“Fuck,” I panted while running a hand through my hair. “That was-fuck.”

“Watching you cum is addicting, angel,” Noah buzzed with a tender kiss inside of my thigh. 

As my heart rate slowed, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and let out a deep breath in a way to center myself again. 

“Missionary hurts right?” Noah asked while leaning over me. 

“It depends,” I shrugged. “But if I’m being honest, it’s not my favorite.” 

The smirk that pulled on his lips made me tilt my head at him. However, before I could ask what he had in mind, he swiftly turned me to lay on my stomach and raised my ass in the air. 

“Noah,” I breathed while peering over my shoulder at him. 

Not saying anything, he leaned over towards the nightstand to rummage through it and retrieved a condom. Lust-filled eyes watched as he ripped it open with his teeth and swiftly rolled it over the length of his cock, which was thick and dripping with his arousal. 

“Stay on your knees but if you need to lay your lower half on the bed, do it. I want to make sure you're comfortable,” a gentle kiss in the middle of my back; against the snake tattooed there. 

I positioned a pillow underneath me to give myself some more leverage and comfort while Noah lined his cock up with my entrance. Slowly, much to my dismay, Noah sank himself inside of me inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of me. 

“Shit,” his forehead rested against my shoulder blade. “So tight. I’ve been dreaming of this feeling again, angel.” 

“Me too. Oh fuck.” 

I moaned when Noah pulled himself almost out, pumping just the head of his cock in between my folds. Then with a snap of his hips, his cock stretched me open again and the weight of his body pressed me farther into the pillow. His chest collided with my back every time he thrust into me and his nails dug into my hips to keep himself grounded. For extra measure, I managed to hook my feet around his ankles. 

“I love you,” Noah panted in my ear. 

My smile was buried in the pillow. “I love you too.” 

“Any pain?”

I did my best to shake my head. “Keep going. Please.” 

One hand caressed the grooves of my spine, up and down, while his other wandered around to thrum against my clit again. Noah’s pace was slow but steady, his words from earlier ringing true. 

I want to make love to you. 

I brushed away the hair from my face so I was able to see, noticing our reflection in the large mirror Noah had leaning against the wall next to the closet. A strangled moan crawled out of my throat when I saw the muscles in Noah’s ass clench with every drive into me. I could vividly see his cock every time he pulled out of me, my arousal glistening on the condom, before disappearing inside of me again. 

“I.” 

Thrust. 

“Love.” 

Thrust.

“You.” 

I mewled at Noah’s proclamation in between each of his thrusts. “I love you too, Noah.” 

The slow pace of his cock but the fast pace of his fingers worked in perfect harmony and I felt my second orgasm slowly creeping its way into my veins. The heat spread like wildfire inside of me with such intensity I began to shake underneath Noah. 

“I love you, angel,” he proclaimed again then bit down on the sensitive part of the skin at the back of my neck. 

I was gone, blissed out in sheer ecstasy that my words were muffled against the pillow. That wasn’t good enough for Noah so he turned my cheek so I could face him. 

“I love you too,” I huffed when my orgasm was seconds away from bursting. 

He linked our hands together as he continued to meld with me from behind and I noticed that the hands that were linked were the ones that both had our bracelets. It was almost a good omen, no pun intended, that our souls were always destined to be one. For added measure, I felt the coolness of his necklace brush along the heated skin of my back. 

Noah lightly laughed, almost as if he thought the same, and when his cock twitched inside of me, I realized he was close. I wanted to watch him when he fell apart because of me so I glanced back over to our reflection in the mirror. Then with two fingers pressed against my clit, Noah began rubbing up and down which was exactly what I needed for the coil to snap. To finally teeter over the edge where ecstasy was waiting for me. 

His name fell from my lips in prayer. 

“Fuck, Noah. Oh God, it’s so good,” I cried out through the rest of my orgasm. 

“No God. Just us,” he grunted. 

There was no God; only him and I. 

In the reflection, I watched as his movement stilled, cock throbbing between my walls, and his mouth fell open when he tilted his head back; groaning out his release. Then softly, Noah’s body fell onto mine and he buried his face in my neck. 

“Are you okay?” He wondered. 

“I’m good, mochi. So fucking good,” I lazily smiled but whimpered when he pulled out of me. 

“Let me get you a washcloth,” he left a kiss on my shoulder before slipping into the bathroom. 

I snuggled closer into the pillow on my chest to let my eyes rest for a moment. Exhaustion dug itself so deep within my bones that I didn’t even notice when Noah began cleaning me up with the damp but warm cloth then he draped the blanket over my naked form. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or noticed he left until the bed dipped beside me and I opened one eye to stare up at him. Noah kissed me from between my shoulder blades down my back, his nails grazing beyond the wake of his lips as he traced over the large snake tattoo on my back. 

“This sight is familiar,” Noah spoke quietly. 

I propped my chin on my hand. “But I’m not going anywhere after. I’m not leaving you to deal with my inconsiderate decisions. I’m right here with you, Noah.” 

“I know,” he nodded. “We’re creating new memories now. Righting all of those wrongs. I’ve been excited for both of us to leave the past and move forward.” 

“Me too,” I left a chaste kiss on his chin, feeling the slight stubble tickle my lips. 

Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear then began tracing the line of my cheekbone, and jaw, then booped my nose, earning a giggle from me. 

“I brought you some clothes in case you want to get dressed,” he said while handing me a pair of black joggers and a matching shirt. 

I took them with a smile. “I think I should start keeping some clothes here.” 

“Plenty of space in the closet,” Noah threw a thumb over his shoulder. 

My heart fluttered at his words, realizing yet again that Noah was allowing me to occupy parts of his private sanctions. 

“I’ll clear out two of my dresser drawers for your stuff the next time you’re over,” I promised with a kiss on his lips. 

He hummed while grasping the back of my head to keep me there for a second longer. 

“It’s a deal, angel.” 

Slipping out of the bed, I trotted into the bathroom to get dressed while I heard Noah open his bedroom door and rummaging in the kitchen. When I hopped back into his bed, Salem came bounding into the room with the bell on his collar jingling. 

“Hi baby,” I cooed when he jumped up on the bed. “So, what do you think of the cat tree dad bought you? You like it?” 

His response? Curling up on Noah’s pillow with a chirp of approval.

“I’m gone not even five minutes and he steals my spot,” Noah chuckled entering the room again; dressed in nothing but a pair of black Bad Omens joggers and bright yellow socks. 

“Get used to it. You invited him over and now what’s yours is his,” I scratched between Salem’s ears. 

“I’ll gladly share with him,” he said while handing me a plate. 

My eyes lit up as a gasp fell from my lips. “Is that limoncello tiramisù?”

“Yeah, I picked some up from that Italian bakery you love. Carlos’.” 

“Yes!” I exclaimed while quickly digging into the treat. 

As I leaned against the headboard to eat, Noah sat cross-legged in front of me to eat his share, both of us basking in the silence; beside Salem’s purring. 

“Are we a family now?” Noah asked. 

With a bright smile, I leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah. We are.”

I set both of our empty plates on the end table next to Noah’s bed then pulled my knees to my chest. 

“You know what I’d love right now?” I asked. 

Noah winked which caused me to playfully smack his chest. “Not that.” 

“OK, sorry. What would you love?” He chuckled while rubbing his chest. 

“I’d love to listen to The Grey. I’ve been dying to know how you worked in my poem ever since you sent me that video.” 

“Alexa, play The Grey by Bad Omens,” Noah said with a smile. 

“Now playing The Grey by the band Bad Omens.” 

When Noah’s voice finally broke through the music, I let out a small gasp. It was different, new, hearing this voice come from the man in front of me. It made me proud to see how far he’d come from Finding God Before God Finds Me, knowing what his work ethic was like. He was always trying to break down the typical stereotype of what rock should sound like. He wanted to make changes and from this song alone, Noah was doing that. 

Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all. Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough. Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.” 

My eyes lit up. “Oh, this was from the video!” 

Noah giggled. “Yep.” 

I continued to listen to the song when he linked our hands together, bringing them to his lips to leave a kiss on each of my fingers. 

“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.” 

“Noah,” I beamed. “This is amazing. The lyrics, your voice, the beat. Everything about it.” 

A red hue crossed his cheeks as he sheepishly glanced down at his lap where our intertwined hands were. 

“Do you like it?” He gazed up at me through his long lashes. 

Rising to my knees, I now draped my arms around his neck and kissed his forehead, nose, both cheeks and then finally his lips. 

“I love it, Noah. And I love you.” 

He twirled my necklace between two of his fingers. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

For the first time since we rekindled our love, it was then that I noticed the tattoo on the side of his hand. 

K.E.A.T.O.N. 

When Noah realized I was reading the letters, he held up his other hand so I could read the letters on that hand. 

P.I.E.R.C.E. 

“Noah,” I breathed while putting his hands against my chest. 

“I needed to. He needs to know that he can sing his songs through me while he’s gone,” he explained with a lone tear slipping down his cheek. 

“I know.” I kissed his hands. “It’s okay.” 

Glancing over my shoulder, I took notice of the time and frowned. Earlier, Noah mentioned that tomorrow, well technically later today since it was already nearly two in the morning, Bad Omens were shooting the music video for The Death of Peace of Mind and he needed to be up early for it. 

In six hours. 

“I should probably get home,” I sighed. 

Noah’s hold against my hips tightened. “You can stay. I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.” 

“You need your rest, mochi,” I patted his cheek. “I also have plans with Astrid to help her open up Fika then we’re going shopping right after.” 

Reluctantly with a sigh, Noah agreed and let me go, not before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 

“Salem is staying here tonight though,” he said. 

My jaw dropped as I stood from the bed and placed my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?” 

“Look at him,” Noah pointed to a sleeping Salem. “You can’t wake him.” 

“Fine,” I dragged out the word with narrowed eyes. “Tomorrow night. My place.” 

Noah towered over me when he stood to full length in front of me. “I’ll be there, angel.” 

NOAH

Stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my yellow hoodie, I let my black slides drag my feet behind Y/N as we walked closer to her apartment door. The chill midnight air breezed through the loose strands of hair but I was too far gone in my mind to brush it away. Even though we promised to see each other tomorrow, making plans for me to spend the night here tomorrow night, part of me was worried. Afraid that once we parted ways, Y/N would second guess everything that happened and ignore me for months on end. 

Why was I so nervous?

I kept asking myself that as we came to a stop in front of her door. I shook at the thought that what I was doing in all aspects of my life mattered. I felt the need to get it right; especially with Y/N. 

Dr. Poulos once said “Nerves are a signal of truth, of what you value, of what you need and cherish. The constant needs of what I’ve wanted, the comfort and stability I desired. That the idea of not gaining happiness brings on those telltale tremors. Always ask yourself what the nerves are telling you. It’s an important way your body speaks.” 

She wasn’t wrong. I knew in the back of my mind that I was terrified Y/N would never come back. 

What if  I wasn’t good for her?

I desperately needed to fight these demons and not let them win. 

Y/N loves me. She loves me.

“Mochi, you’re shaking.” 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed that Y/N had wrapped her arms around my midsection to pull me closer to her. 

“Oh, I am? Didn’t notice,” I mumbled under my breath. 

“What’s wrong?” She questioned.

“Angel, let it go. It’s nothing.” 

Part of me wanted to remove her grasp from me; the part that was used to shrinking away from my problems. But the other part of me that wanted to be a good man for her made me cup the back of her neck instead.  

“Talk to me,” she quietly begged. 

However, I remained silent; the words weighed heavy on my tongue. 

“Noah-.”

“I don't want you to leave,” I blurted out. 

Y/N’s eyes softened. “Noah, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No. I-I don’t know. I’m-.” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and change your mind. I’m not perfect-.” 

“Stop,” Y/N shook her head. “Don’t even say that, Noah. You know I love you. Just like I know you love me. Nothing will ever change my mind, alright? We’re both right here. We need to remain here, focus on that.” 

I let out a broken breath and brushed my lips over her forehead, my hands going back to grasp behind her neck. “Please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you found me.” 

“Never. I will never leave you like that again,” she buried her face into my chest, breathing me in. 

I rested my chin on top of her head. “I love you and I want this so bad, angel. I want you.”

“I love you, Noah. I’ll reassure you as many times as I have to,” Y/N turned her head up at me now. “But you have to trust that I won’t let you fall. I’m here with you. It’s you and me, okay?” 

I blinked while letting out a calming breath. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night with my worries.” 

She kissed the tip of my nose. “You didn’t. And don’t apologize for your feelings. I know what we’ve gone through has done a lot. But we’re moving past that, Noah. I’m proud of that and I’d like for you to start trusting me.”

“I do,” I promised her with a kiss. “I do trust you.” 

“Good,” she rose to her tiptoes to lay another kiss on my lips, this one deeper than the last but she pulled away before I could slip my tongue in. “Take care of our baby. I’ll see you two tomorrow night.” 

With a heart doubled in size and adoration in my eyes, I watched Y/N as she slinked inside her apartment, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder at me.

We’ll be okay. 

NOAH

Grunting, I helped Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly maneuver the large board out of the truck and down the ramp to bring it inside the large warehouse where we had everything else almost set up. It was just before eleven a.m. and even with a second cup of coffee, the caffeine hadn’t seemed to take effect quite yet. After I dropped off Y/N at home last night, I returned to Salem, who was still curled up on my pillow when I left him, and as I lay next to him, my mind was plagued with negative thoughts I tried so hard to push away. It kept me up till almost four in the morning then four hours later, Jolly knocked on my bedroom door to wake me. 

As soon as we all arrived at the warehouse, I put on my best professional face and went to work going over the original plans with Orie, making sure we all were on the same page. This was our first music video in our new era so we wanted to make sure it was perfect. 

Now, as I stared up at the large board, pulling on the ends of my white shirt, I allowed my mind to wander to Y/N, wondering what she was up to right now. 

Did she like the paint idea? 

Was the sex good enough? It was great for me but I hoped there was no pain for her. She said there wasn’t. 

It sounded like she enjoyed it. 

Was I too vocal in my proclamations? 

No, I know I wasn’t. Y/N returned those proclamations every time. 

I ran an unsteady hand through my hair while letting out a long sigh, and staring down at my feet. 

My emotions were a part of me, and in this relationship, they blended with Y/N’s. Although, there are times I had these storms inside of me, never because of her, but from previous damage; the triggers from my past. I was certain things would be okay and this self-deprecation would pass. 

I desired Y/N’s presence like a madman gone awol. In those moments of a storm, I had to find my calm and center myself, typically by myself. But with Y/N, I didn’t have to do that. Like my music, she was my muse. 

“Noah?” 

Glancing over my shoulder, I gave a small smile to Nicholas. “Yea?” 

“Are you alright? You’ve been kind of quiet all morning,” he observed while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie. 

I eventually knew someone would notice my quiet demeanor. I’d only been humoring when it was dire to do so. 

Fuck, I missed Y/N. The negative thoughts monster has bitten his way through the bars.

I hated that this had come out of nowhere, sinking its teeth inside of me with no abandon. Our date last night was amazing but these fucking nerves kept trying to sabotage things once again. I did my best to not allow them to. 

I needed to stop worrying about last night, knowing I could change anything about what happened even though there was nothing that needed to change. Just like today, I needed to stop worrying about everything that could go wrong and focus on everything that would go right. 

“You know you can talk to me,” Nicholas’ voice snapped me from my thoughts. 

“I know,” I nodded curtly. “I’m fine. I just want things to go perfect today.” 

He reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulder. “It will. We’ve been planning the details for months.” 

I shifted all of my weight from one foot to the other, casting my gaze away from him and towards everyone who continued to work tirelessly. 

“You miss Y/N?” 

My eyes darted back over to Nicholas. “She texted me earlier after she helped Astrid open Fika. They’re going shopping before grabbing some late lunch. I was going to meet Y/N at her place with Salem once we were done here.” 

“So let that be the light to help you through today.” 

I scratched my chin and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Noah! Nicholas! The red lights on the masks aren't working!” Orie’s voice boomed in the vast space of the warehouse. 

Motioning Nicholas along, we spent the next handful of hours directing, watching, and redoing some scenes of the music video a few times over to make sure everything went off without a hitch; the perfectionist in me. We even stopped for a few-minute break so Orie could try and throw candy into Folio’s mouth while I peeked at the few unread messages from Y/N. 

Angel 🪽: I may have bought a few things I’d like to model for you later. If you’re up for it. 😉

A sudden burst of warmth spread to my cheeks, something that didn't go unnoticed by Orie, who snickered. 

“Oh, there’s only one person who can get you to smile like that.” 

My eyes pinned into him, a sharp look that said mind your own business. Stepping away from the group of them, I responded to Y/N’s message. 

Me: I’d never turn down a show from you, angel. Can I get a hint?

Angel 🪽: It’s red. And I’m very excited for you to take it off. 

Fuck. 

I adjusted myself with a cough and spent the next couple of minutes texting her with a bright smile. It was nearing nightfall which meant we were close to recording the next scene of the music video. 

Angel 🪽: Astrid has not stopped gushing about Jolly. It’s kind of cute though when she calls him Joakim. Did you know that she’s thinking of naming a drink after him at Fika? 

I snorted while glancing up at Jolly, who was busy texting away on his phone; most likely to Astrid. 

Me: I’d love to know the name of this drink. 

Angel 🪽: Älskling. It means honey. She’s thinking honey, Earl orange, and pomegranate tea. Because he’s “sweet like honey.” 

Angel 🪽: Noah Sebastian, don’t tell Jolly I told you because I know you can’t keep things like this to yourself. 

Feigning a hurt expression, I sent her a selfie and then typed out my response. 

Me: My lips are sealed. But I have to get back to work. Me and Salem should be at your place around ten. I’ll grab some food on the way. 

Angel 🪽: Burgers? 🥺

Angel 🪽: Also, you gave you the right to look so fucking good, huh? I can’t wait to kiss those lips. 

The way my heart jumped in my chest made it almost hard to breathe. 

Me: Whatever you want, angel. 

Angel 🪽: Just you. And burgers. I’ll always take a burger. 

Pocketing my phone, I rounded a finger towards everyone, my voice carrying throughout the space around me. 

“Alright! Let’s film this pool scene before it gets too cold for the girls.” 

Two hours later, it was nearing eight in the evening and all we had left to shoot was Bad Omens part of the video. We were in the home stretch and I was practically bouncing on the soles of my feet knowing that I’d be seeing Y/N in a few more hours. 

As the four of us were dressed in our outfits for the music video, I chatted quietly with Folio while fixing the collar of his jacket. He’d been busy on every break today either talking to his girlfriend or planning something. 

“How are things going with her?” I questioned. 

The smile that spread on his face made a faint one pull on mine, knowing that one of my best friends was happy. 

“Really good. I’d love to have you guys meet her soon.” 

I nodded. “Definitely.” 

Folio’s eyes peered over my shoulder, a smirk now pulling on his face and he wiggled his eyebrows. Before I could ask what he was staring at, that invisible string in my chest vibrated with such vigor, that it nearly knocked me off my feet. 

“Well, look at this group of handsome men!” 

Spinning on my heels, I saw Y/N and Astrid walk into the warehouse with bags of food from one of our favorite diners and both of them holding onto two trays of drinks. My heart ran amok in my chest as my stomach flipped three times over at seeing Y/N wearing the yellow hoodie I wore last night when I dropped her off. 

“I swung by your place to grab Salem and pack you an overnight bag so once you’re finished here, we can head straight to my place. And yes, I did steal your sweater,” she answered my thoughts. 

“Yellow is your color, angel,” I mused while slowly closing the distance to her. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

Astrid walked up to Jolly, who grabbed the things from her and laid a kiss on her lips; her laughter echoing around us. 

Y/N shrugged while I mimicked Jolly’s actions of taking the things from her hands. 

“We know how hard all of you are working today, it’s the least we could do.” 

Orie came up to grab the food and drinks from me before dispersing it to everyone. 

“Thank god you’re here, Y/N. Noah’s been really bossy today.” 

She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it out while narrowing her eyes at me. “Bossy, huh?” 

“He’s a tyrant,” Orie chuckled before taking a bite of his burger. 

I wrapped my arms around Y/N, breathing her in when I brushed my nose along her hairline. “You’re not going to turn her on your side, Orie. You’re wasting your time.” 

She raised her lips to meet mine and I hummed in delight when I tasted the milkshake she must have had on the way over here. Even though Y/N was here in my arms, I still couldn’t quiet the negative frame of mind that plagued me throughout the day. 

“I like this new look,” Y/N straightened out my jacket. 

All I could do was nod in response and her brows creased in worry. “Are you alright?” 

Linking our hands together, I pulled her through the warehouse to slip outside where I knew no one would be. We finished the pool scene a while ago and the extras had left for the night. 

“Oh, a pool? Are we going skinny dipping?” Y/N teased with a wink. 

I ran a hand through my already-styled hair, still not saying anything. My mind was a jumbled mess and I was afraid if I tried to speak, my words wouldn’t make sense. 

“Noah, what is going on? You’re worrying me.” 

Her warm hands cupped my cheeks so I had to look at her, those bright eyes pleading with worry. 

“Talk to me,” Y/N breathed. 

“Did you enjoy our date? Was it to your standards? Did I do alright with everything?” 

The questions blurted out like word vomit. 

“Of course I did, Noah!” Those eyes darted back and forth between mine. “I had a wonderful time. Did I do something to make you think otherwise?” 

I clutched her sides. “No, you didn’t! I promise. I know we talked about things last night. I wanted to make sure last night was everything you wanted.” 

“It was,” she adjusted the collar of my turtle neck. “I promise.”  

“I felt even closer to you than I ever have before. Especially when we had sex and I just wanted reassurance,” I sighed. “That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Mochi, I loved every second with you. I loved everything about it. I felt closer and more connected with you too. Stop fussing if I had a great time. I’d sit and watch ants crawl out of the ground if it meant I could be with you.”

Something flashed in my mind that brought a genuine smile to my face and washed away all of those worries. 

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"

I brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear, fingers trailing against the skin of her neck.

"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," I vowed with hooded eyes as I stared down at her lips.

I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I take it we’re on for a second date then?” 

“I’m wide open,” Y/N winked with a kiss on my cheek. 

“Good,” I grinned. 

“Noah! We’re ready!” 

We both glanced over to the large opening of the warehouse to Nicholas who was waving us inside. 

“So, you’re staying the rest of the shoot?” I asked. 

Y/N beamed. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

READER

As I moved about my bedroom, tossing things into the suitcases that laid out on my bed, there was a delicate knock on my open door and Chase gave me a warm smile. 

“Malcolm and Noah are at the store right now and wondering if there’s anything else you need for this weekend,” he sat down on the edge of my bed. 

“No, just the list I gave them,” I said while zipping up my suitcase. 

“Are you nervous?” Chase asked, playing with Salem. 

“A bit, yeah,” I sighed while plopping down onto the bed next to him. “This is our first album as a three-piece. It’s completely different from our other albums so I’m afraid people won’t vibe with it.” 

Chase squeezed my knee. “They will. The reviews from the singles we already released are positive.” 

“I know. I’ve just been in my head a lot.” 

There was a slight hesitation in Chase’s breath before he asked his next question. 

“Have you talked to your parents at all?” 

My heart sank with guilt and I began chipping away at my nail polish. “It’s been a few days since I talked with my dad. With everything from trying to plan the album release party and Noah, I guess I kind of forgot to call him.” 

Chase wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. “Your dad understands how busy you are. He’d never hold it against you.” 

I snorted. “Unlike my mom. Part of me wants to call her and give her an update on my life. Because I do love her, regardless of all of her faults, but I’m just afraid that she’ll judge me; again.” 

“Do whatever your heart tells you, sweets. You never know, she might surprise you.” 

Both of us shared a knowing look before we burst out in a fit of laughter knowing the odds of that happening. 

“But stop worrying about the small stuff, Y/N. Ethan said the house is booked, the guest list was sent out, and the caterers are paid. Everything is set, all we have to do is show up and promote the album,” Chase said as Salem lay between us. 

When I nodded, he stood to his feet and placed a kiss on top of my head then slipped out of my room. Pausing packing for a moment, I reached for my phone that was charging on my nightstand and I let my finger hover over my mom's contact for a long moment, wondering if I really wanted to do this or if it was the guilt for not reaching out to her more. 

Pros: she could be happy for me and even want to show up at the party. 

Cons: she calls me a disappointment yet again and criticizes my choices. 

“Fuck it,” I groaned then clicked on her name. 

It rang twice before going straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes, knowing that she ignored my call, but tried not to dwell on the way my stomach dropped. 

“Hey mom, it’s me. How have things been? I heard you went to Greece for a few weeks to visit family. I bet that was nice, I’d love to see some pictures. Maybe we could meet up for coffee to talk?” 

I ran my sweaty palms on my sweats before continuing. “I have some news. Hollow Souls new album releases this Saturday and we're throwing this party to celebrate it. I know you never were too keen on my career choice but it would mean a lot if you came. I’ll text you the details. S'agapó.” 

Ending the call by saying I loved her in Greek, I hit the red button with a disappointed sigh. I knew there was a higher chance she wouldn’t answer my call rather than actually answering it. Instead of dwelling on it, I texted my dad. 

Me: Can I call? 

His response came almost instantly. 

Dad: You never have to ask, sweetheart. 

With a smile, I decided to FaceTime him instead and broke out in a large smile when his face appeared on the screen. His hair had a bit more gray than the last time and a few more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The glasses were practically falling off his nose but when he saw me, he pushed them up. 

“There she is! Oh, I’m loving the new hair!” He beamed. 

“Thanks Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, life’s been kind of crazy,” I explained while leaning against the headboard. 

My dad waved me off as he spun around in his office chair, the large and filled bookcases now his backdrop. “It’s alright, sweetheart. How have things been?” 

We spent the next few minutes catching up when Noah entered my room, both hands full of bags. When I went to help him, he held up the bags higher so I couldn’t. With a playful glare at him, I turned my attention back to my dad while Noah went about emptying the bags. 

“So your mom didn’t answer?” 

Briefly ignoring the questioning glance from Noah, I shook my head at my dad. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s like she has this radar that goes off before I call to talk about my life. If it’s not about her, she doesn't care,” I pulled my knees up to my chest so Noah could sit down in front of me. 

My dad took off his glasses to rub his eyes before putting them back on his nose. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wish she never took her own frustrations out on you. She’s unhappy with how things ended with the divorce and she can’t seem to heal from it.” 

Noah’s fingers grazed over the exposed skin of my ankle. 

“All these years later and I still try to make her proud of me,” I shrugged. 

“I know sweetheart. But sometimes, you have to think about yourself and make yourself proud before her. That’s what matters.” 

Noah’s hand brushed away the hair from my face and I smiled up at him. 

“Oh, whose hand is that?” My dad's questionable voice came from my phone. “Those are a lot of tattoos.” 

With a glance at Noah, he nodded so I shifted my position for my phone to not only show me but him as well.

“I wish I could introduce you two face to face but this will have to do. Dad, this is Noah.” 

Noah gave a small wave to the phone. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N, it’s an honor to meet you.” 

“Shit, even your neck is covered! That had to hurt,” my dad chuckled while rubbing his own neck. “It’s an honor to meet you as well, Noah. My daughter has told me quite a lot about you. All good things, no need to worry.” 

My cheeks burned and Noah wrapped an arm around my side, pulling us closer. 

“You have a wonderful daughter. I want to assure you that I love her and will take great care of her,” he vowed. 

My father snorted while moving about his house now. “I knew it from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together during your last tour that you loved Y/N. It was clear in the way you smiled at her.” 

“Dad,” I muttered under my breath. 

Noah, however, looked at me with deep affection in those almond eyes. “I think I knew it back then as well, it just took me longer to admit it.” 

“Call it father’s intuition,” my dad said. “But I have to go. I’m meeting some friends for ramen.” 

“Ugh,” I groaned. “I would kill for some Japanese ramen right now.” 

“Well,” my father started while slipping into his jacket one-handed. “Bring Noah the next time you visit and we can all go out for some. There’s this great place next to this shop that sells some kind of Manga drawings. I don’t understand it but the kids your age seem to love it.” 

“We’ll be there,” Noah promised with a kiss on the side of my head. 

“Have fun at the album release party, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear the new songs!” 

We both waved at the screen before it went black, me hanging up the call. 

“Your dad seems like a great guy,” Noah noted while rolling off of my bed and trotting over to my dresser. 

He opened the top two drawers, rummaging around for some of his clothes. 

About two weeks ago, he slowly brought some of his things over here while I did the same at his place. We’d been bouncing back and forth between the two but with how busy I’d been planning the album release party and all the finishing touches for the album, it’d been a few days since Noah and I spent the night together. So now that we were leaving tomorrow for the weekend, he decided to spend the night at my place so we could ride up to Big Bear with Chase and Malcolm. 

“He is,” I rested my chin on my knees. “I really hope one day we can visit him together.” 

“We will.”

Noah promised with a kiss on my head before retreating out of my room so he could shower while I finished packing all of our things, the excitement of this weekend making me dance around my bedroom. 

READER

My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I typed away on my phone, the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the party falling away from me. 

The Power Puff Girls group chat:

Me: You guys on your way back? 

Astrid: Had to stop at the store quickly! Matt texted Jolly to grab some Dr. Pepper.  We picked up Maxxine about thirty minutes ago but would have been back at the house by now if Jolly wasn’t taking FOREVER in the book section. He’s trying to find some kind of new fantasy book to read this weekend. 

Maxxine: It’s kind of cute watching the two of you giggle with your own inside jokes while I just stand here as a third wheel. 

I let out my own chuckle as I stopped in front of the large mirror in the rental house, brushing away any lint from my white dress. The sleeves were lace and stopped right at my elbows and the bottom of my dress rested mid-thigh. I was afraid that the front may have been too low cut but Noah reassured me it was fine. 

With an array of kisses between my breasts. 

My phone vibrated in my hand and I read the new message. 

Astrid: Oh hush you. 

Me: Well, we’re very excited for you to join us, Maxxine. Bring some more females into this group of male hormones. I’d been dying to introduce you to someone! 

Maxxine: No, Y/N. Please. My last date was so horrendous, I still haven’t recovered. 

“Angel?” 

Glancing away from my phone, I smiled at Noah as he came bounding down the stairs dressed in a black long-sleeve and almost eggshell white pants. I licked my lips at the sight of him dressed up. It wasn’t anything fancy but it still made my heart flutter. 

“Have you seen my shoes? The black-.” 

“The black lace-ups,” I nodded. “Yes, they’re in the closet in our room. Next to my house shoes.” 

He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.” 

As Noah retreated upstairs again, I turned back down to my phone. 

Astrid: We promise, this guy is different! 

Maxxine: I don’t know. I think I should just be single for a while. My luck with men hasn’t been the greatest. I always chose losers. 

Me: Please, you’ll be thanking us for setting you up with him. 

Setting my phone on the kitchen counter, I peered over to Jesse, who was setting up the drinks and snacks at the dining room table. Noah mentioned to me the other night how Jesse had been feeling quite down a lot lately due to his anxiety and had been falling into himself, closing himself off from everyone. While Jesse wouldn’t admit it, we all had an inkling feeling that seeing some of his best friends get into relationships, made him doubt himself in finding someone. We also knew how hard of a time he had in Pittsburg when Erra was there touring a few months ago, so Astrid and I decided to set him up with a mutual friend of ours and I invited her to the party tonight. 

“Hey,” I slinked up beside Jesse and bumped my shoulder with his. 

“Hi,” he smiled. “You look beautiful. Excited for tonight?” 

“Thank you! I am. But I just wanted to let you know that there’s someone I want you to meet tonight.” 

He set down the cups and raised a brow. “Why me?” 

“Oh, no reason,” I shrugged before patting his chest and walking away. 

“Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean!”

Giggling, I met up with Chase and Malcolm in the main living area of the house. Chase was brushing away Maclolm’s long auburn locks and I smiled at the two of them. I knew they were nervous about being open about their relationship in the beginning but now they were blossoming together and I couldn’t have been happier for them. 

“How are we feeling?” I asked them to check-in. 

Malcolm ran a hand down the front of his black dress shirt. “Nervous as hell.” 

Chase rubbed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, love. The support already has been incredible. It’s only going to get better.” 

I wrapped my arms around both of them. “In case this album flops, I want you guys to know that I’m glad we took this chance. I love what we created.” 

“It’s not going to flop,” Chase rolled his bright blue eyes but returned the hug. “Love you two, idiots.” 

I pulled away from them and turned towards the front door when it opened, smiling at Astrid, Jolly, and Maxxine who walked inside. My eyes darted from Maxxine to Jesse, who froze in the middle of his tracks. He took in the sight of her; long legs, olive skin, long black hair, and bright hazel eyes. 

Maxxine, who had her arms full of bags, gave a slow once over of Jesse with a blush and faint smile. 

“Hi,” he cleared his throat. “Let me help you.” 

“Thank you,” she allowed Jesse to take a couple of bags from her. 

Astrid and I shared a proud smile. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” 

Noah’s deep voice sang in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, a kiss to the side of my neck. Turning in his embrace, I pecked his lips. 

“Hm, once or twice,” I wrapped my arms behind his neck. 

With the soft tune of music playing in the background, our bodies began to sway lightly. When his eyes fell behind me, his brows furrowed together. 

“Who’s the girl with Jesse?” 

I turned slightly in his embrace to see Jesse and Maxxine laughing about something with each other. She was lightly touching his arm and the smile on his face was one that you couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard you tried. 

“Oh, that’s a friend of mine and Astrid’s. Her name is Maxxine. I thought that maybe she and Jesse would hit it off,” I explained. 

Noah’s lips left feather-like kisses along my forehead. “I love you.” 

I grasped the front of his shirt, engulfing myself in his scent. 

“I love you too. But before the party starts, I want to show you something.” 

Linking our hands together, we slipped away from the group and down the hall of the rental home to the office where I already had things set up. I closed the door behind us and motioned for Noah to sit on the long sofa while I sat on the recliner chair diagonal from him. On the table was a pair of wireless headphones that were already hooked up to my phone. 

“What’s this?” Noah wondered after falling onto the couch. 

I handed him the headphones. “I know you’ll hear this song later but I wanted you to hear it for the first time with just the two of us. It’s an important song and it means a lot.” 

My heart was drumming inside of the confines of my chest making it hard to breathe. I finished recording this song months ago and besides me, Chase, and Malcolm no one else heard it. I wanted Noah to be the first. 

Once he placed the headphones over his ears, I loaded up the song on my phone and hit play. Even though I couldn’t hear the song physically, I could hear it in my mind. 

I know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side. But right now I can't be what you want. Just give it time.

Noah’s shoulders went stiff as he flicked his eyes up at me, steepling his fingers together in his lap. I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue. 

And if you and I can make it through the night. And if you and I can keep our love alive, we'll fight. 

Now nothing gave way on his face as he stared down at his hands, the only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. 

We can meet in the middle. Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh. 

I couldn’t bear being so far from him while not knowing how he was feeling so I rose from my chair to sit on the other end of the couch next to him. 

Well, it's cold when we're apart and I hate to feel this die. But you can't give me what I want. Just give it time

Noah’s eyes fluttered shut and I swore I saw all the oxygen leave his lungs, telling me I knew what part of my lyrics he just heard. 

But for now we stay so far. 'Til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in these arms. So I'll keep you in my mind.

My bottom lip caught between my teeth as my knee bounced with anticipation, wanting desperately to know what he thought about my song. But I didn’t want to disturb him yet. 

Can we meet in the middle? Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight. Where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh.

Glancing at my phone, I realized the song ended, but Noah made no effort to take off the headphones. My lips parted to speak when I noticed a lone tear roll down his cheek. 

“Noah?” I tapped his arm. 

With the heat of my touch, it was as if he came alive again. Ripping off the headphones, Noah’s lips attacked mine with an inferno, making me fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. My fingers quickly found their usual place in his hair while he hooked my leg around his hips. 

“Angel,” he fanned in the crook of my neck. 

“Did-did you like it?” I asked. 

Noah’s tongue brushed along the pulsepoint of my neck and I shivered underneath him. 

“I loved it,” he breathed as his teeth scraped up along my jawline before slipping his tongue into my mouth. 

We had a short fight for dominance before reluctantly I let Noah win, his hands running up and down my bare thighs. When he pulled away, I was dizzy; kiss drunk. And his eyes burned as he looked down at me. 

“Are you sure?” I questioned, still filled with worry he didn’t like it. 

“Y/N,” he lifted my chin with the finger that had the small heart tattooed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It was perfect.”

“Thank you,” I wrapped my legs around him to bring his body closer to mine, moaning when I felt the outline of his cock brush along my heated core. 

His forehead fell onto my chest and sighed. “Do we have to go out there? Can we stay here the two of us? In our bubble.” 

I lifted his head to kiss his nose. “Unfortunately, this party is partly for me so I have to show up.” 

Grudgingly, Noah untangled himself from me and then helped me to my feet, fixing my dress and hair for me. 

With our fingers linked together, he led me back into the main part of the house where the party was already well underway. 

THIRD PERSON POV

The crowd of people kept congratulating the members of Hollow Souls for an amazing album. Everyone loved the new songs and was excited about the new direction they were headed toward. Chase and Malcolm chatted with one of the reps from the record label while Y/N was talking with someone she didn’t expect to see there. 

“I can’t believe you flew all the way to Los Angeles from Vermont for this! You didn’t have to,” she smiled while wrapping her arms around the man in a hug. 

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Y/N,” Joe shrugged. “Where’s Noah?” 

“Um, last I saw he was talking with his friend Bryan.” 

She glanced around the room but broke out in a large smile when Noah slinked up beside her and left a kiss on her cheek. 

“There you are. I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Joe,” Y/N pointed between the two men. 

Noah extended a hand. “Nice to officially meet you.” 

“Yeah you too,” Joe shook his hand with a smile. 

The three of them chatted for a long while after moving to one of the couches in the living room,  Y/N watching with fondness as her boyfriend and one of her good friends got along pretty well. She even stole a glance over towards Jesse and Maxxine who were seated on the couch across from them. His arm was thrown over the top of the couch, fingers grazing over the skin of Maxxine’s shoulder. Every so often she would slink in closer towards him. 

“Would you like a drink, angel?” Noah asked. 

Her eyes snapped back to him and she nodded. “Dr. Pepper, please.” 

Once Noah stood from the couch, Y/N opened her mouth to ask Joe how life was going when someone else sat down on the couch next to her, almost in Noah’s previous spot. 

Devon? Derrick? No, his name was Dennis; a mutual acquaintance of Ethan, their manager. 

“Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d sneak in to tell you how awesome the new album sounds,” he slicked back his overly gelled hair. 

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” 

While she knew of him from things Ethan would say, Y/N never actually met him. 

“I love the new vibe you guys have going on. It’s very different from your old albums. Although, I must say that my favorite is still your self-entitled. Trey’s vocals kick ass on that.” 

Joe sat up straighter from his spot on the other side of Y/N while she narrowed her eyes at Dennis. 

“Everyone has their own opinions I suppose,” she said while trying to pull down the ends of her dress when she caught Dennis staring at her legs. 

“You know,” he licked his lips and moved closer to Y/N. “You’re doing really well without Trey. How about we go out for a drink?” 

“No thank you, I’m not interested.” 

Y/N slinked back closer to Joe, who gladly accepted it.

“One drink?” Dennis tried again with a sly smirk. 

“I don’t drink,” Y/N narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest, hoping to show the guy that she was finished with this conversation. 

Joe sent a look over to Malcolm, who was standing in the kitchen next to Noah, and with that shared expression, the redhead nodded. 

“Noah,” Malcolm motioned behind Noah. 

With a perplexed look, Noah turned around and nearly crushed the glass in his hand at what he saw. Y/N was almost in Joe’s lap, trying to get away from some douchebag who kept advancing towards her. 

“What the fuck,” he grumbled under his breath, nostrils flaring. 

Tonight was not the night to lose his cool but he could feel that ugly feeling burning low in his gut; the feeling he despised. He didn’t want to come off as jealous or that he couldn’t trust Y/N because he could. But Noah did not like the way this guy was almost undressing her with his eyes. 

Joe wanted to intervene but also knew that Y/N had it handled; something she’d proven before. 

She glanced around the room with panic in her eyes until they fell on Noah, utter relief filling them. The guy followed her gaze and scoffed when he realized what she Y/N was looking at. 

Noah’s blood ran cold as his heart was thumping loudly in his ears, everything becoming white noise to him. His fingers shook at his sides, doing his best to remain calm. 

“Who is that guy?” He asked Malcolm. 

“Dennis. Ethan’s assistant.”

Matt, who had snuck up beside Noah, urged him with a look. 

“This asshole just asked Y/N to go outside with him for more privacy.” 

Fire burned in Noah’s eyes as he snapped them back over to the couch, where he nearly choked at the sight in front of him. Dennis was dragging his fingers down Y/N’s neck with intimacy that was reserved for Noah only. That was his spot. Y/N was his, it was proven tonight when she played her song for him. 

His insides burned with rage that it nearly made him unable to see anything in front of him. 

The sound of Y/N’s hand smacking Dennis’ hand away broke through the haze in Noah’s vision. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed. 

Joe quickly pulled Y/N up from the couch just as Noah pushed himself off the edge of the counter and made his way through the crowd over towards his girlfriend; hands shaking with more vigor now. It would be so easy to punch Dennis and show him who Y/N belongs to, however, Noah wouldn’t create a scene tonight; not when this night meant so much to Hollow Souls. 

With three deep breaths, Noah came to a halt in front of Y/N who quickly found solace underneath his arm.

“Everything alright?” He wondered. 

Y/N, albeit with the annoyed look in her usual bright eyes, wore a faux smile. “Yeah, now it is.” 

“I think you were just leaving, no?” Joe asked Dennis. 

The man shook his head while slowly rising to his feet. “No, actually I wasn’t. I heard that Y/N is single so I thought to shoot my shot.” 

Noah’s body vibrated with anger so Y/N rested a hand on his chest, her touch immediately calming him. 

“I’d like to know where you heard that,” Noah spoke slowly, even though he was on edge. 

“Does it matter?” Dennis harshly laughed. “All I’m saying is that she looks sexy as fuck tonight. I thought we could sneak away for a bit but it seems like she’s too far up your ass to even notice there are other guys here.” 

“I already said no,” Y/N’s voice was stern. 

Noah’s eyes sliced Dennis in half but remained calm; an eerie calm that seemed to have the gathering crowd of their friends on edge. His arm was still around her, claiming Y/N as his own but for added measure he left a kiss on the side of her head. 

Dennis raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, I get it. It’s fine, from what I hear from Trey, you can’t be satisfied anyway.” 

Chase appeared almost out of nowhere and grabbed him by the collar of his green polo. “Time for you to go. Now.” 

“Chase, please. No fighting,” Y/N begged still in Noah’s embrace. 

His usual bright blue eyes were dark, a deep hue of midnight, while he glared at Dennis. 

“I promise, no fighting,” Chase gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m only going to show this asshole the way out.” 

Noah and Dennis shared one final glance, victory dancing on the former's lips before he whispered in Y/N’s ear. 

“Upstairs. Now.” 

Her eyes sparkled when she gazed up at him with a mischievous smirk. The both of them slipped away almost unnoticed by everyone, running up the stairs two at a time with Noah smacking her ass, her giggles echoing far behind them. 

READER

As soon as we were in the confines of our bedroom in the rental house, Noah lifted me in the air to press my back against the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while his hands gripped my thighs. There was a dire need of want in his eyes as he crashed his lips to mine in such a frenzied, hungry kiss, that it made me see stars from the force of it. His teeth grazed over my tongue and then my lips, drawing the teeniest bit of blood. 

“Fuck, Noah!” I exclaimed while dotting a finger to my lip. 

Growling, he began biting my neck, licking away Dennis’ touch. “I don’t know who the fuck he thinks he is. No one will ever fucking talk to you like that or touch what’s mine.”

“Oh god, yes,” I hissed, running my hands through his hair when he sucked on my sweet spot.

Somehow Noah managed to yank off my panties in our position and stuffed them deep into his pocket. One lone finger slipped between us when he pinned me to the door again and started rubbing fast circles on my clit. 

“Shit. Fuck. So good,” I crowed while pulling on the ends of his hair. 

Once I was wet enough, Noah quickly pulled out his cock, rubbing a fist over it for a few pumps before slipping in between my folds with a hard snap of his hips that we rattled against the door. I felt so full, so stretched open, that I gasped; not realizing at first that Noah forgot to put on a condom. 

“I want that motherfucker to hear who you belong to, angel,” he grunted with each thrust, nails digging into the skin of my bare ass to keep me grounded against him. 

“Fuck, god. So good,” I panted while scratching at his shoulders. “Right there.” 

We both were grunting so loudly and with the banging of the door, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that everyone could hear us downstairs. But none of them mattered. 

Only Noah and I did. 

His lips attacked mine once again, teeth smacking and tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths. 

“Say my name, I want him and any other man who thinks they have a shot, to hear who you belong to,” Noah bit down hard on my neck, his thrusts were fast and relentless. 

“NOAH!” I screamed when his finger pressed against my clit again, being exactly what I needed to come apart on his cock. 

My body writhed in his tight hold on me and with the force of his hands on my ass, I knew that I would have bruises in the morning but I didn’t fucking care. 

“You’re mine.” He grunted while craning my neck back by my hair. 

Noah went back to working on the raised red mark on my neck, right alongside the other bite marks he left before. 

“Yes, I am,” I rasped, gone in ecstasy. 

“Forever angel,” Noah’s hips stilled before pulling himself completely out of me. “Fucking say it.” 

“I’m yours forever, Noah!” I proclaimed with a feverish nod. 

“You’re mine, angel,” he gruffed while now wrapping his hand around his cock. 

It was thick and red, almost angry from being denied release. 

“It felt too good and I didn’t want to risk it,” he sighed while letting me fall to my feet. 

I kissed his lips, this time more gentle than our previous kisses. “Cum on my chest.” 

Noah’s movements around his cock faltered for a moment, pupils dilating to pure black. 

“What?” 

Dropping to my knees, I pulled down the front of my dress to expose my bare chest to him and peered up at him through my lashes. 

“I want you to mark me, Noah. Mark what’s yours,” I begged. 

“Shit, Y/N,” he mused while running one hand through my hair, dragging his fingers down my neck over my chest to pull and pinch my nipples. 

His grip around his cock was tight, knuckles turning white as he moved his hand up and down with such a velocious pace, it almost made it hard to focus on it. I licked my lips when I spotted the precum Noah used to spread over the head of his cock and I whined with the desire to taste him. 

The hand he had wrapped around the back of my neck to keep me in place tightened its grip as he bent over me, resting his forehead against the door. Noah was still dressed but I could only imagine that the muscles in his stomach were taut, his release so close. 

“Cum for me, Noah. Please,” I begged with a whiny breath. 

“Fucking hell,” he howled my name when his warm release shot all over my neck and down between my breasts. 

I hummed in pleasure, seeing the white stickiness run down my stomach, reveling in the feeling of his mark all over me. Noah stared down at me through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with each deep breath. 

“I didn’t think,” he took a deep breath while licking his lips. “I didn’t think that would be so hot.” 

Allow him to help me to my feet, I couldn’t wipe the smirk from my face. “I did, why do you think I asked for it?” 

Noah’s eyes flashed as he bent low to capture my lips in a kiss. “Am I going to keep finding out your secret kinks, angel?” 

“I think so since you discovered two of them already,” I dragged a finger down his cheek. 

“You like possessive sex? I feel terrible for throwing you against the door,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. 

I shrugged. “It’s not so much the possessive side of it but more so the dominant side of you.” 

He lifted my hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on my palm. “Do you want to head back downstairs?” 

“No, I’m exhausted and need a shower,” I giggled while motioning to my chest. 

Even though his cheeks reddened, the look that crossed his face as he looked me over made my core clench. 

“Get cleaned up and I’ll sneak downstairs to grab us some snacks,” Noah patted my ass, dismissing me towards the bathroom connected to our bedroom. 

“Think Folio will share those chocolate-covered pretzels he brought?” I wondered. 

Noah chuckled while stuffing his cock back into his pants before zipping them. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 

Right before he slipped through the door, I chastised him when I noticed the large red mark on my neck.

ASTRID

“Okay, I think they’re finally finished,” I chuckled while walking into the bedroom I was sharing with Jolly. “The door stopped rattling awhile ago and when I walked past their bedroom, I heard one of them snoring.” 

Jolly peered up from strumming a few notes on the guitar in his lap and smiled at me. 

“It’s most likely, Noah. Do you know he wears those nose strips?” 

“No way!” I gasped while pulling down the sleeves of his sweater I was wearing, moving about the room to finish getting ready for bed. 

It was his black Bad Omens hoodie, with the hand and gun on the front.

“Yeah, try sleeping in a moving sweatbox and hearing that. I sometimes worry he’ll inhale the bus curtains. That’s Y/N’s problem now,” he chuckled while reaching for me and pulling me to the bed with him. 

I broke out in a fit of giggles when he placed me in his lap and then rested the guitar in mine. He set my fingers in the position they needed to before helping me strum a few notes. 

He placed a kiss on my shoulder. “I’m glad you were able to leave Fika for the weekend to be here with me.” 

I turned my head towards him and kissed his lips. “Jessica can handle it. I need to start loosening the reins a bit and enjoy things more.” 

Jolly’s eyes glinted as he set the guitar down on the floor before lying me back down on the bed, lifting my end of the sweater to reveal all I was wearing underneath was a pair of black underwear. 

“You walked around like this?” His voice rumbled deep within his chest. 

I innocently shrugged. “I didn’t run into anyone. Besides, I’m practically swimming in your sweater. No one would have seen anything.” 

Hooking my underwear with his fingers, Jolly practically ripped them down my legs before flipping me onto my stomach. 

“Keep the sweater on, käraste,” he demanded while spreading my legs wide. 

“Fuck, yes,” I nodded while burying my face into the pillow, hearing Jolly’s belt buckle fall to the floor. 

NOAH

Jolly and I moved around the large kitchen, almost with ease like we’d done this countless times before as we made breakfast for everyone. It was our last day up in Big Bear and we had a full day of activities planned. 

Breakfast, a mountain hike, lunch at a diner in town, and Y/N wanted to steal me away for a few hours to go horseback riding. 

The large table was filled with everyone and I had to stop for a moment to appreciate everyone here who came out to support Hollow Souls. They didn’t need to but they did because Y/N, Chase, and Malcolm became part of our family with that tour that seemed so long ago now. 

“Noah, can you hand me the eggs?” 

Snapping my gaze away from everyone, I turned towards Jolly and handed him the carton of eggs. 

“So,” I smirked while pouring more pancake mix onto the sizzling griddle. “I heard you had a great night last night. I walked past your room to come down to the kitchen for a drink and heard you grunting something in Swedish. What was it?” 

He froze, mixing the eggs in the large bowl for a moment before scoffing. “Like you’re one to talk. We all heard you guys last night. The door wouldn’t stop rattling, shaking the walls.” 

My face was beet red and I adjusted the collar of my sweater to ease it away from my neck. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m surprised you even heard anything over your snoring,” Jolly shrugged with a sly smirk. “I told Astrid you use nose strips.” 

I dropped the spatula, it clattering to the counter and gasped. “You did not!” 

A sudden movement from the stairs caught both of our attention, our heads snapping to the forms of Jesse and Maxxine walking down, her wearing one of his shirts. With a shared look, Jolly and I scurried over to our girlfriends, me pulling on Y/N’s shirt while she poured herself a cup of coffee. 

“Mochi,” she smacked my hand away. “Not now. I’m hungry and need caffeine. Sex in the shower took a lot out of me this morning.” 

“Angel,” I reached for her again. 

“I’m serious,” she held a stern gaze over the rim of her cup as she looked at me. “I need a break.” 

Rolling my eyes, I turned her around just in time for her to see Jesse hold out the chair for Maxxine, who blushed up at him in thanks. 

“No fucking way!” Y/N sputtered into her cup and then looked back at me. “She stayed the night with him?” 

I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the peach scent of her body wash, and smiled. “Look at you, little matchmaker.” 

We shared a kiss before I motioned for her to sit down at the table so I could bring her a plate of food. 

Everyone went about the kitchen, filling up their own plates while I sat down next to Y/N, handing her the plate. Once everyone was seated, Malcolm took a long pull of his coffee before setting it down on the dark oak of the table. 

“So, who do you think was louder last night? Jolly or Noah?” 

The noise of my fork falling on my plate rang loudly in all of our ears while Jolly nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. Both of us slowly sank into our seats while Astrid and Y/N shared a look across the table, stifling a fit of giggles behind their hands. 

Noticing the way our faces reddened, Folio spoke up to change the subject. “Did anyone enjoy seeing the snow dogs? Michelle and I had a great time when we were here last time.”

“Oh that’s right,” Davis nodded. “You guys were here for Valentine's Day, right?” 

While their conversation fell on deaf ears, I felt my heart stutter in my chest and glanced over to Y/N, who was having her own conversation with Michael who sat next to her. The realization hit me with such force, that I had to lean farther back into my chair. 

Even though it was well into March, we never spent Valentine's Day together, and honestly, that wasn’t something that sat well with me. My heart yearned to make up for all the times we missed during our time apart and for the rest of breakfast, I made those plans in my mind. 

“Were we really that loud last night?” 

Y/N asked me at the same time Astrid asked Jolly and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me with a chuckle, brushing my lips against her ear. 

“Want to see if we can get even louder before we leave?” I nibbled on her ear lobe. 

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #tina and sarah talks

[adickaboutspoons]

Fuck me, I have more to say about this moment:

And it's gonna get ugly, folks, so buckle in. As important as it is to understand this scene as a moment of Character Growth for Stede? It's also key to understanding Why Shit Went Down the way it did during the negotiation of the escape plan in Act of Grace. So Stede stands up for himself and draws some boundaries. Good for him! Love to see it. And how does Ed respond to "I don't like who you are around this guy?"

And what does he say when he chooses to leave with Jack?

It's a through-line. In this moment, Ed is calling back to the conversation on the beach. I don't think he is being intentionally cruel - to him, what he's saying is more of a reflection of his struggles with feelings of worthlessness - but how can Stede help but make the association; the ONE TIME he draws boundaries with Ed, Ed leaves. Not only does Ed choose to go, rather than stay and respect Stede's boundaries (which, I would argue are completely reasonable here; Don't wantonly kill innocent animals), he is aligning himself with the man that has spent the entire day tormenting Stede ("This" - Jack killing Karl - "is who I am"). Again, I'm not saying that he's being intentionally cruel; I don't think he fully understands how awful Jack has been to Stede. But, surely you can see how, from Stede's perspective, this is absolutely DEVASTATING - much more than JUST the heartbreak of the man that you had so recently made tentative plans to join your life with ("Co-Captains!") breaking up with you. But breaking up with you AND CHOOSING ONE OF THE WORST PEOPLE YOU KNOW OVER YOU.

So now we come to the Act of Grace and the scene on the beach:

No, AFTER that.

Ed proposes a plan to run away together. And Stede... doesn't say yes. In fact, his first instinct is to push back, THREE TIMES.

"But you said there was no escape."

"What about the English? They'll be all over us."

"China? That's quite far away."

Every time Ed dismisses his concerns - comes up with a reason to make the plan A Thing. Ed is clearly not going to take "no" for an answer.

And what happened the last time Stede told him no?

Ed left.

Ed broke his heart.

Ed sided with the kind of person that validates Stede's every insecurity about not being enough.

So is it any wonder that Stede gives in? And not even with enthusiastic consent. With the most tepid positive-leaning neutral responses possible.

"Yeah."

"I think so."

"Mm-hm."

(Which is to say nothing about his body language - the incredulous-bordering-on-disgusted face he makes when he talks about China, his lips pressed together when he says "Mm-hm", the way he starts the conversation leaning in toward Ed, his body twisted toward him, but quickly shifts so his body is angled straight ahead with his head awkwardly twisted to the side to look at Ed)

The seeds of tragedy were planted when Ed left Stede. Because, by doing so, he accidentally reinforced a lifetime of Stede being taught that his wants and needs are secondary to those of others, and that acceptance is conditional on compliance.

#spicy takes that I won't at all come to regret #my modest contribution to fandom #ofmd #our flag means death

[witheredtoashes]

birds and their wings

Okay, okay, everyone.

Here's my piece, aka predictions, for the Phil and his wings lore.

He's not getting them back. Or at least, he'll be the last one.

Why?

Because he wants them.

As far as I know, phil is the only one to be actively asking the federation, admins, and Cucurucho for the restoration of his wings. Not only that, I think while it's a very common headcanon or belief that Jaiden, baghera, and quackity have wings and are avians, and this is accepted by the creators themselves, they've never wanted wings. They've never asked for them. Correct me if I'm wrong, since I don't watch them often, but the other avians on qsmp are birdlike and like to be considered birds, but.. it's not ingrained. And I say these things in comparison to Phil.

Day one, barely into the stream when he was on the train, Phil talked about his wings and them being clipped. IMMEDIATELY addressed why he couldn't fly, because flying is utterly ingrained into his movements, his thinking, and everything he does. If he's not flying, there has to be a reason.

Fast forward, Phil's getting more into lore. All of his lore is about the eggs and the federation, or his wings. Being a bird. It's starting to show in everything he does, and it's purposeful.

He's perching more, when he's idle. He's always perched high in his hardcore world or even in qsmp, wanting to get the best viewpoint to see what's around him, what dangers there are, and get a look of the land. But, he's perching in places where he doesn't need to do all that.

In forever's office. On the wall, which he knows is safe and knows the surroundings of. Whenever he's idle, he will parkour and climb to the highest spot he can reach every single time, out of boredom. But it's an instinct, and it's one he's PURPOSELY tying into being a bird.

Another reason- he's more birdlike than all the other avians. It shows in his movements, his words, even his morals. He thinks like a bird. It shows in every part of his character, not just design.

Phil treasures nature and natural things over everything. He likes large open spaces. He perched and builds on the wall, and then he COVERS it in grass and transforms it into a place bustling with life and nature. Natural, wild, a place where animals can thrive and live, like a forest. Somewhere where a bird would flourish.

Not only this, it's in his hardcore world. Which we KNOW is canon. Everything he builds is connected to nature and wildlife, or at least large open spaces he can soar around. Endlantis? The sea and life taking over the barren end, and it's BRIMMING with plants and animals and growth. The ocean monument? Come on, self explanatory. Nethervoid? It's a void, barren of life, but he has pockets of life and animals within it. It's wide open, letting him soar through and admire it and fly without fear. The spawn islands? Literally pockets of floating life. The wall around his spawn? A artificial stone structure, cold and unforgiving, being taken over again by nature, weathered away, and covered in vines, trees, and moss. Life is everywhere.

Now, qsmp.

Jaiden shows Phil his wings, right? She says she just "busts them out", like she's had them, fully functional the entire time.

One of Phil's first questions is "can you fly yet?" Because that's the first thing he'd do if his wings were whole. Hearing Jaiden is too shy, he groans like he's disappointed before saying it's alright. He asks if she's always had wings. He says he's glad she's got her wings and that SHE CAN FLY AGAIN. After complaining of his own fucked up wings, and how he can no longer fly.

Phil adds more lore to his wings, and connects back to them again. He says that with the damage and the amount of feathers clipped, he has to wear the heavy backpack to balance himself, because he's so used to their weight. Now that it's off, he can't walk or move properly without that weight being fixed. It's such a natural part of him that he adjusted to, he can't live without them.

When Jaiden spoke of caging the birds she's found, Phil paused, and he got that hesitant joking along but please don't be serious voice he often uses, saying "You let them out of the cages though, right?"

He's concerned of the detriments of being caged, and how birds need to be free and fly. Exactly what he can't do. He calls the island a cage.

Now, all this MIGHT be because of the cage for a cage punishment, right? But I don't think it is. I think this instinct was already there, and that lore built onto it and got him to show it more.

He's mindful not of being trapped in a cage again, but the harm of being trapped and confined and not able to fly. We all saw how he went a little insane in that birdcage, right? Dreaming of hardcore, thinking he was in there for weeks, and how it left him shattered and unable to trust himself and his reality without outside assurance. Aka, the pheonix. He didn't call cucurucho out for fucking with him, he questioned whether.. it really was real, and maybe thats why he couldnt lasso it. He relaxed when cucurucho said it saw the bird in the picture, and still hung onto that moment and HOUR LATER, saying it was still fucking with him.

And in the birdcage. He saw all his fellow birds, imprisoned, and the next time we see him? They're all free. They're flying around in the little space they can, while he's grounded.

Outside of that, he croons over every bird and keeps it safe. But when it comes to running out of cages, he lets the birds fly freely again in the SAME stream he found them, instead of making new cages. He looks after them. He knows the importance of freedom, and that's why he's an anarchist, that's why he hated the elections and the federation, that's why he plans and avoids shit not only to keep his little fledglings, his eggs, safe, but to also save himself from being forced to make a decision via blackmail or threats. That's why he didn't enter the election in the first place. He's spiteful and treasures his freedom over everything.

What I'm saying is, his instincts, choices, and nature is tied to being a bird, and being part bird is tied to every part of him. Moreso than the other avians.

So what does this mean for him getting back his wings?

Well, he wont.

It's power over him, now that the eggs are gone. Not a threat, because those make him spiteful and prone to lashing out- uncontrollable.

It's a promise of what he could have, given he behaves. If he listens to the federation.

The minute he has his wings, he's free, there's no more power. He's too buffed as a player to have them taken away again, he's too interconnected with everyone, and everyone will rush to his aid if he says he needs help. They'll never be able to harm his wings, and now, he's too anxious and cautious to fall into a trap. He doesn't trust the federation in the first place, immediately assuming their goal is to kidnap people, and he DEFINITELY doesn't trust messages from the eggs/about the eggs because of the birdhouse. We see this with fit, because when fit tells Phil he got a message from his eggs, Phil IMMEDIATELY asks him if he's sure it was real. Light and cautious, he won't step on the trap again, and he won't let anyone else either.

So, they keep his wings away from him. Taunt him with them, with the idea of getting them, in order to keep them in line. Why do I know this?

Well, they've already started.

Again, Jaiden has her wings. Early on, she goes to Phil's house with them, and he sees them and REALIZES the federation is restoring wings, or at least allowing people to use them. Getting his wings back becomes a possibility, while they use Jaiden to parade that fact around.

Quickly after this, Phil starts to ask the federation to restore his wings. Immediately when he sees them come to his house (coincidentally, some time after Jaiden comes and with Jaiden there.) he asks for his wings. They laugh at him.

Phil gets a quest from cucurucho, the being he constantly curses out and hates on, and he TAKES THE QUEST. Because he sees he can get a reward- something that isn't set in stone or written down. Something he can bargain.

So he does the quest, and then when cucurucho comes to reward him, he starts to bargain.

"YOU WILL RECEIVE A REWARD."

"is it my wings back? JK you wouldn't do that"

"def worth it for the god apple. still no wings though, y'know. Still no healed wings.."

"BY THE WAY, DID YOU CATCH THAT SUNBIRD?"

"Yes, yes I did, thank you."

"GOOD JOB."

"Maybe repair my wings? Maybe repair my wings a little?" AND HE TURNS HIS BACK TOWARDS CUCURUCHO AND SH OWS HIM HIS CLIPPED WINGS,, "I can take off my backpack- oh, no, he's gone."

He turns his back to someone he knows has a gun, considers his enemy, and doesn't trust in the slightest. HE TURNS HIS BACK. In order to extend his wings and show them to cucurucho, show it the clipped ends, the most important part of him, as if to gain sympathy or further plead his case as "this is something that is broken, please fix it." To set things to right.

Cucurucho laughs, and leaves. No wings.

This leads me to believe that the federation will continue to ask tasks of Phil, because he is strong and smart and will get them done, and he will use it as a leverage tool of "hey, I'm helping you, why don't you help me?" And continuously ask them to restore his wings.

But they know that. And they'll say no. He'll do more and more.

Eventually, hell realize they're not going to give them to him. He's smart. Hell catch on. So what do the federation do to give him hope?

They give others their wings. They show him that there's a chance, because OTHERS are getting their wings, so why not him? He must not have done enough, it has to be a possibility. He can still work, and he can get them. He just has to do more.

Hell continue to work, because he sees it as a possibility. Subtly, they'll play him to be their strongest pawn.

And when he doesn't get his wings, even after all his work, I think he'll start to resent those with their wings. Jealousy turning into a little bit of hate, a little bit of bitterness at something so important to him being treated so lightly, not as priceless as he would see them. Not as treasured or appreciated. Hell be taunted with their freedom and how little value they give to it.

Everything recently has been trying to divide the islanders. Taking away their uniting goal, protecting the eggs. The create nerf scuffles. People working with cucurucho, their enemy, and foolish ratting everyone out. There's tension, and secrets are being kept, unlike before. But who's been allied with everyone, and who everyone trusts, despite it all?

Philza, with his honesty, plain to see goals, and lack of a motive or physical thing he cherishes over his friendships. There's nothing to use against him.

Until now. His wings. A way to create tension in Phil's life, a way to make him bitter, a way to control him.

By offering him his freedom, they'll be pressing him into a cage even smaller than before.

A cage made of glass, impossible for him to see.

#philza minecraft #qsmp #qsmp phil #qsmp philza #q!philza #q philza #qsmp liveblog #qsmp analysis #a cage for a cage #qsmp jaiden #Oh god I'm so excited for this lore to pan out #But I'm so scared at the same time #qsmp cucurucho #You're a bitch #Anyway continue to torture my streamer #Wither speaks

[inkykeiji]

say you’ll love me to death, cause i will

character: todoroki touya | dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: alright, so we’ve discussed how touya-nii would react to encountering the man who took your virginity, but let's talk about how you would respond to running into the woman who took touya’s. set in my touya-nii au! as always please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: RUNRUNRUN by dutch melrose

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (stepcest), public sex, minimal prep, extreme jealousy, toxic relationship

words: 4.7k

synopsis:

“Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?”  And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth.  No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other.  You’re something so much better. 

You’re off minding your own business, legs swinging idly on a bar stool as you wait for your designated reservation time, when it happens, when she appears. 

“Touya?”

The name cuts through the blurred noise of the restaurant, both yours and Touya’s attention snapping to the source: a woman, late twenties or so, waving a little in indication on the other side of the bar. 

She’s snaking through the patchy crowd, busy unfastening her hair from the intricate bun its been woven into—a requisite for all the waitresses at this establishment—eyes bright, smile brighter. 

You don’t even know who she is; not technically, anyway, had never thought to press the issue any further than a simple how’d it happen, had never cared enough to try—especially not when he had been sleeping with so many others right in front of you. 

It hadn’t seemed to matter much then. Not the way it matters now.

But she exists, because she must, because somebody would’ve had to take it, would’ve had to be the first, one way or another.

Doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

She’s pretty, but you wouldn’t expect any less. Touya stands as she reaches the two of you, pulling your body up with him.

But then Touya greets her, a name you’ve heard kicked around every now and then, and it all fully, finally clicks. 

Touya’s first. 

“Oh my God,” she’s gushing, “I haven’t seen you in—What’s it been now? Over ten years?” 

“Just about,” he responds easily, readjusting his grasp reassuringly on your hip as you cling to him, large palm flattening against your abdomen and hugging you closer to his side, tucked protectively beneath his arm.

“What are the chances! You look...” her eyes scan his body once, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, then back up again, and your fingers flex, coiled and rigid in the material of his shirt, stiff joints already aching. “Wow, incredible!”

“Thanks,” Touya says, an awkward lull in the conversation when he doesn’t repay the compliment. 

Their discussion meanders for a little bit—how have you been, what are you doing now, remember when...?—most of it muddled by the blood roaring in your ears and jealousy burning in your throat. 

But then her fingertip is just barely grazing his forearm as she points in indication at the ink etched into his skin, and your ears tune into their frequency again, white-hot fury slicing through hazy envy.

“I remember when you started this one,” she’s reminiscing. “You finally finished all of the pieces,” she says with another appreciative glance, and you grip him tighter, the skin of your knuckles pulled so taut it’s starting to hurt. “It’s so breathtaking to see them all come together.”

And you hate the way she speaks to him with a certain type of familiarity; an old friend, effortless and full of laughs, someone who knew him long before you did, when you were only in grade school.  

God, how rude of her not to introduce herself, she’s telling you as she finally turns toward you, finally takes notice of you, rooted in Touya’s side; a growth he planted there himself, shoved between his ribs and engrained in his soul, roots so tangled you’re both irremovable, inseparable, now.

She holds out her hand in greeting, but you only clutch Touya more firmly, nails scraping against starched cashmere, face half-hidden in his chest, childish and petulant. 

The woman’s smile drops from her face, a slow drooping of her mouth as her forehead crinkles, confusion bleeding through her features.

“She’s shy,” Touya says as way of explanation, but that wolfish smile is stretched sharply across his cheeks, teeth gleaming in the dim light.

“I see,” she says, almost hesitantly, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before they flit back to Touya’s face, expression brightening again. “Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?” 

And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth. 

No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other. 

You’re something so much better. 

“Oh, we’re not a couple. This is my little sister.” 

And, oh, how this is always your favourite part.  

You know that it’s his favourite part, too. 

Because the way that shock and disgust eats through their confusion, fucking devours any other emotion on their face, is better than anything else in the entire world. The way their expression churns into something twisted and repulsed sends sordid little thrills racing through your veins, blood buzzing with adrenaline.

The two of you must be such a fucking sight, expressions handcrafted by the Devil himself,  with glowing eyes—gluttonous gazes gobbling up every little expression, two pairs wide and  frantic as they glide across her face—and smug little smirks, points of your mouths so sharp they could pierce the flesh of a fingertip if touched. 

Her voice sputters a little, snagging in her throat as she struggles to find the proper words, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear the scene in front of her. 

“I—Uh, I didn’t know you had another little sister?” 

It’s phrased as a question, her voice beginning to tremble, unnerved as her stare swaps between your faces.

“My mom remarried,” Touya says simply. “This one came packaged with the deal.” 

He jostles you in his arms a little—showing off his favourite, precious, most coveted prize—and you cuddle into him, burrowing into his chest a little, fingers flexing in his dress shirt as you clutch him tighter, gathering healthy handfuls of cashmere in your scrunched palms, buttons beginning to strain beneath the strength of your grip. 

And he states it proudly, as if he’s glad to own you, to be your big brother, to call you his, staring down at you with so much fondness it melts his hard eyes, sapphire turned to something thick and gooey.

“Oh,” the woman responds, but her voice wavers through a wobbly smile on her face, lips unsure if they want to grin or grimace. “That’s cool.” 

“Yeah,” Touya responds, though his eyes do not leave yours, voice softening. “I got pretty fuckin’ lucky. Don’t think I could’ve asked for anything better.” 

You can feel the sick, sadistic glee radiating off of him in dense waves—something heavy, something intoxicating—and, if this girl knows him well enough, you’re sure she can, too. 

It’s so thick it’s nearly suffocating, but you breathe it in readily, greedily, draw it into your lungs and let it marinate in your tissues—infect, consume, decay. 

“We should go for drinks sometime!” her unnaturally chipper tone snaps the trance, draws both of your gazes back to her. “You know, to catch up and all that.”  

A noise shudders your ribs, something between a growl and a whine, and Touya laughs as if it’s so fucking cute, looking back down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s nearly spilling past his lashes.  

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, but his stare never breaks yours. “Thanks for the offer, though.” 

“Mr. Todoroki?” a smooth voice floats above the indistinct murmur of the venue. “Your table is ready.” 

“Ah, that’s us,” Touya says to you. 

“It was nice—”

But you’re already turning away, a single entity in the way you move, think, breathe, be. 

“I don’t like her,” you’re grumbling as Touya guides you toward the hostess, not caring that she’s still very clearly in earshot, the confession spilling from your mouth almost subconsciously, having pried past your lips, desperate to be heard. 

“I can tell, baby,” Touya snorts, though the smile on his face is soft. 

“I—I don’t even wanna eat here anymore,” you sulk, feet starting to drag, words filtered through a deep pout. “And I don’t ever want to see her again!” 

It comes out as a demand, a little harsher and firmer than you had intended, uncharacteristically surly, and Touya stops. 

Blinking down at you, Touya’s face falls, features suddenly serious, all mirth evaporated from his expression in an instant. 

His head dips, voice dropped to a low, dire murmur—something secret, something just for you.

“You want me to kill her for you? Huh, princess? Does niichan need to get rid of her?” 

And, oh, how your heart soars, swells, swoops then nearly bursts from your ribs, desperate to claw its way from your chest and into the palms of its owner. Tears rush to cloud your eyes, vision thick and bleary, and two large hands cup your jaw, tilting your face to his.

“I’ll do it, baby, I swear to God. All you gotta do is say the word.” 

He will. You know he will. You love that he will.

“I love you,” you nearly whimper, hands pawing at him urgently, the words a garbled mess in your mouth, weighted with spit and tears. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he laughs a little, but concern is warping his features, eyes sweeping across your face in search of an answer.

His hand squeezes your jaw gently, callouses decorating the pad of his palm scuffing your soft skin as he holds you in place. 

“Just tell niichan what he needs to do to make this better.”

Your gaze holds his for a moment, heavy and unblinking.

“Fuck me,” you finally say. “Remind me who I belong to, remind me who you belong to, remind the whole fucking world who we belong to.”

Sapphire turns to navy, lips spreading into something sinful. 

He can do that.

The parking lot is sparsely populated, rows of cars jagged and gapped like knocked out teeth. A small cluster of people hover outside the restaurant’s golden doors, encased in a hazy cloud of smoke and murmuring quietly amongst themselves, and a few people are scattered throughout the lot, just arriving or preparing to leave, but for the most part, you are alone. 

The Audi is parked near the back, narrowly missing a pool of white light from one of the tall lampposts. 

A chuckle is huffed from tattooed lips, shining eyes trained on your profile as you march toward the car, his long legs easily keeping up with your own. 

His baby is on a mission tonight. 

“You know, it’s really cute,” he’s saying as he presses you up against the driver’s door, “to see to see you so fucking determined.”

“Want everyone to know you belong to me,” you whine a little, forehead scrunching as your pout deepens. 

“Is that so?” 

“That is so.” 

“And how would you like to show everyone that niichan is yours?” he murmurs into your flesh, lips tracing the curve of your neck.

“Want—Want you to fuck me, right here.” 

“Right here?” his hips shove against yours in emphasis. “In the car?” 

“No,” your hips push back into his, back arching, already so needy for him. “Right here, in the parking lot. I want that bitch to see.”

And for once, you do not get scolded for such foul language. 

“Yeah?” Touya’s breathing into your mouth, hands already rucking up your little cocktail dress. “All out in the open where everyone can see how much of a little whore you are for your big brother?” 

“Right here, right here,” you’re nodding, words cracking with desperation. “Right now.” 

“So greedy, my little sister is.” 

“I don’t care,” you gasp. “Show them, Touya-nii, show them all.” 

And he’s so fucking hard you swear you can feel his cock throbbing with each rush of blood, each of your little pleads and dirty words sending another bout of it southward, swear you can feel it twitching and gorging with lust. 

“You don’t care, huh?” Hardened fingertips sink into the plush flesh of your ass, kneading a little as his hips gyrate in pitiful little circles, more teasing than anything else.

“No, no,” you’re shaking your head. “I want it now!” 

A palm collides with your flesh, hard and sharp, the sound echoing out among the space, chased by your resounding yelp. It draws a handful of glances from the throngs of people loitering around the restaurant’s entrance, but doesn’t keep their attention for long.

“Don’t be impatient, now,” Touya warns, but the glint in his eyes begs you to keep misbehaving. “Get my cock wet first.”

Your face falls as your fight fades, a small frown on your lips. 

“Wh-What?”

“You want my cock so badly, baby? Get it fucking wet, then.”

He pauses, watching you closely, smirk growing into something sinister when you freeze in hesitation.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending it scathes your cheeks. “Not so bold and brave now? I thought you wanted everyone to know; I thought you wanted to show everyone who I belong to,” his tongue tuts, head shaking in mock disappointment, “and you can’t even take my cock down your throat?”

“I do,” you nearly growl, eyes flashing with sudden jealousy, uncharacteristically fierce. 

His expression softens, that sharp glint in his eye dulled to a smoldering glow, full of fondness. 

“Then get niichan’s cock wet,” he says, hips shoving against yours in emphasis again, “so he can fuck you properly.”

And although it is still very much a demand, a direct order, his voice is tender, his edges worn down by years of affection.

Sliding down his body, your fingers furl in the waistband of his suit pants and tug a little, pulling his hips closer to your face. The buckle of his belt clanks heavily as you tug it undone, the button on his trousers pops easily, and then you’re yanking them halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock.

It’s so fucking pretty, dusty pink from base to tip and smoother than the most expensive velvet, and you just can’t help but nuzzle your cheek into the head with a cute little hum, smearing a thick stroke of pearlescent pre-cum across your skin. 

But you know that Touya doesn’t like that, no matter how beautiful you look with his pre-cum slathered all over your face, that Touya can’t stand anything he deems even remotely teasing, and you’re quick to wrap a hand around the shaft as the beginnings of a growl rumble against his ribs, feeding him to yourself. 

“S’it, there you go,” he praises as you gorge on him, stuffing him down your throat in a single swallow, reflexive tears burning your eyes. 

Lashes flutter quickly, desperate to clear your vision, little drops of crystal collecting in the wispy strands. 

It’s pathetic, really, how much your heart soars with such bland praise. But it doesn’t matter, you don’t care, willing to soak up any scraps he’ll afford you, an addict endlessly chasing a fix.

You force your mouth open wider, hinges of your jaw stretching, straining, your tongue curling around the underside as you suck him in further, viscous globs of drool already beginning to collect at the corners of your lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, swallow me whole, baby,” he breathes, gaping pupils glittering with a thin ring of cobalt. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

A choked little whine, muted by his cockhead grinding itself into your throat, vibrates, evoking a cracked little moan of his own, hips twitching involuntarily, an instinctual reaction, searching for more.

The asphalt is rough against your knees, skinning them with superficial little scrapes as Touya fucks your mouth a few times; first slowly, breath huffed out through spit-slicked lips as he glides in steadily, inch by inch, voracious eyes watching as your wet mouth puckers around his shaft, coating it in thick, gleaming saliva.

He whimpers a little as the tip of your nose scrunches so cutely as he presses it to his pubic bone, holds it for a breath and savours the way your throat flutters with hiccups and gags before pulling nearly all the way from your mouth, repeating the process as he gains momentum; then faster, harder, cockhead rubbing against the back of your tongue, each quick stroke leaving bitter streaks of pre-cum.

And you hate how his palms are pressed against your ears, muffling every sweet sound you manage to elicit from him as he holds your head still, his thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin as they dig deeper, grasp tightening as your face becomes slippery with tears, cascading over his knuckles. 

Even so, his grip isn’t enough to keep the back of your skull from banging off the door of the Audi, each thrust procuring a dull thud of flesh against metal.

And, Christ, what a beautiful symphony it all creates; the rhythmic sound of your head thwacking against his car, the dainty jingle of his belt buckle, hanging heavy and undone and bouncing between your chin and his thigh, those precious gags and gurgles and sniffles and hiccups that he loves so much, choked off and snuffed out as his cock rams them back into your chest, the half-stifled sounds that keep shattering to pieces on his tongue, shards swallowed down with difficulty, scraping against the walls of his throat and leaving his voice ragged and raw. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he’s panting as his fingers thread through your hair, fisting at the roots and dragging you off of him. “S’a shame, because you look so pretty,” a rough thumb skims over your swollen, glossy lip, his gaze following its trajectory. “But I wanna cum in your cunt, not your throat.” 

And then he’s pulling you back up from the ground, strong arms wedged beneath your own and hoisting you into the air, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, locked securely at the ankles as they hook together at the base of his spine, thighs squeezing around his hips in anticipation. 

He pins you to the metal of the Audi, one palm securely cupping your ass as the other wraps around the base of his cock, hips inching back just enough to find your hole.

The head, now slicked with your spit, glides over your clit twice—a cheeky little tease, just to hear you whine his name again, all stringy and petulant through a swollen pout—then down your slit until it catches on your hole. 

It stings as he forces himself into you, always does no matter how wet you are, no matter how much you’ve slobbered all over his shaft, because Touya routinely refuses to prep you at all—not that you would’ve let him, not tonight—because he loves it, too, he loves it just as much as you do. 

He loves the sharp little hiss pushed through the gaps of your teeth by your tongue, he loves the gentle fluttering of your cunt as your most delicate skin stretches, splits itself open for him, to suck him in and swallow him down, he loves that sweet sigh that melts from your mouth as he bottoms out, slathered over his own huff of breath, conjoined relief. 

“Touya-nii, Touya-nii,” you’re whimpering out, fingers curling against his shoulders.

“M’here, baby, m’here,” he pants out, forehead pushing against your own, eyes slipped shut. 

And for a moment everything is still, breath held stagnant in swelling lungs as you both savour this feeling—of fullness, of closeness, of wholeness—appreciation unhindered by noisy exhales or slapping skin.

Then his hips are moving, gyrating in little circles that gain speed with each completed motion, cockhead grinding into your cervix.

He can’t exactly fuck you properly like this, can’t exactly fuck you like he wants to, like he normally would, not all out in the open like this.

But he manages to make do, the pace quick right from the start, shallow fast snaps of his hips that have the buckle of his belt is clanging against his car, leaving superficial little scratches just below the door handle.

It’s all still so fucking hot, though, his forehead pressed tightly to yours as he exhales nicotine-tinged breath across your face, each one pushed from his chest with the rapid little ruts of his hips. 

It’s all so fucking naughty, fucking out in the open where anyone who’s paying more than a shred of attention can see, his movements just barely hidden by the flesh of your thighs, cushioning his hips. 

The thought that anyone could be watching, touching themselves, filming you has your muscles tightening and your stomachs fluttering, the dirty, illicit nature inspiring another rush of adrenaline to taint your blood.

Your mouth drops open, starved for more of him—never satisfied, are you, greedy lil thing—welcoming his huffs onto your tongue, spicy and sweet as hickory. Your tongue unfurls from your mouth, dumb and lazy and so fucking messy, licking at his lips in quick, uneven strokes, sopping up any remnants of his essence.

The tip slithers between his parted lips, kittenishly lapping at the edges of his teeth, tracing the sharp ridges one by one, and he laughs, warm and airy. 

His own tongue shoves against yours, pushing it from his mouth and back into it’s rightful home before he flattens the slick muscle against your face and drags it, slow and steady, from the point of you chin to the tip of your nose, leaving behind a thick, fat trail of cooling saliva painted across your face.

The action has you squealing, scrunching up your nose as you involuntarily suck your bottom lip between your teeth and suck it clean.

His scent is strong, now saturating your skin as it dries, tight and hard, on your face, sealed by the breathless little giggle he exhales across your cheeks. 

And, Christ, he’s so fucking gorgeous, strands of alabaster plastered to his forehead and stuck to his temples in scraggly strings, clumped into damp little tufts that curl up at the base of his neck, drops of sweat balancing precariously on the points. 

His rough, quick movements have them breaking free, glistening drops of sweat rolling down his puckered skin, tracing the curve of his neck, streaking ink and ivory with glimmering little trails. They pool in the dips of his collarbones and soak into the collar of his shirt, turning cashmere translucent. 

The sleek muscles in his forearms flex beneath inked skin, gliding as he readjusts his grip, holds you closer, hugs you tighter, fucks you harder. 

His whole body is covered in a sheen layer of sweat, urgently chasing that high that only his little sister can gift him, sharp pistons of his hips keeping you pinned to the car while he uses you as his personal little toy, his favourite little toy, forcing you to just take it. 

And yet, despite it all, his eyes are bright, his lips molded into a brilliant smile, a sick sort of love stained with exhilaration—the thrill of getting caught: fucking all out in the open, fucking your family—brimming in his gaze.

He’s such a fucking pro, knows you and your body better than anyone else ever has, ever could, ever will, angling his hips so they fuck you just right, each stroke of his cock an upward curve, dragging against that puffy spot buried deep within your cunt, head swiping against your cervix with each draw back.

Across the lot, that girl is fiddling with the keys to her shitty little car, rooting around for something in her bag, and Touya laughs—a loud, booming sound, heavy with deranged delight that echoes throughout the space, garnering the attention of a smattering of bystanders. 

“Look,” he nudges his head to the right, your gaze following his own, slippery cheeks pressed flush together. “She’s watching. She can see you, sweetheart—can see us, can see you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

Good. If she hadn’t already figured it out before, it should be abundantly fucking obvious now, who he belongs to. 

“She—She looks disgusted,” you snicker. 

Even from several meters away, she does, you can tell, face twisted up somewhere between horror and shock, eyes wide and unblinking as they scan your conjoined forms, brow scrunched and chest beginning to heave.

She looks like she’s going to be sick.

You hope she is.

“Oh, she doesn’t even know—fuck—the half of it, does she?” Touya keens, hips faltering for just a moment before regaining their momentum. “Why don’t we give her something to really be repulsed by?” 

Yes, yes, yes, you’re nodding your head, little mewls of affirmation spilling from your throat.

“Give your big brother a kiss, then.” 

And oh, how eager you are, ever his good girl, ever his best girl, arms tightening around his neck as you pull yourself closer, smashing your lips to his. Dainty fingers thread through the hair at the back of his scalp, soaked with salt, and tug harshly, enough to have a reactionary hiss slipping through his teeth. 

Using the opportunity, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth between your teeth, clamp down hard and yank backwards, so hard his lip stretches like shimmering, pink bubblegum, gums beginning to strain until it finally slides free of your hold, teeth scraping against flesh. He spits out a curse, muddled and chased by a laugh, tongue laving over the indents you left, now weeping copper.

“Niichan’s gonna get you back for that one,” he says, sadistic glee shimmering in his eyes almost as pretty as the crimson glazing his mouth. 

You’re sure he will, too, later tonight, with that cherished knife you gifted him last year.

The giggle that pours past your lips is fucking raucous, leaves your tongue sticky and tingling, so wicked it rivals your brother. 

“I wanna show her, niichan,” you’re panting out, voice fading into a whine. “I want to show her that you’re mine.” 

“Do it, baby,” he breathes. “Show the whole world how fucking gorgeous you look cumming for your big brother.”

Three more rapid pumps of his hips and you’re convulsing around him, cunt clenching almost viciously around his cock as your heat gushes down his shaft, sticky and messy and so much, so much it pools in the folds of his heavy balls, so much it streams down his taut thighs and soaks the waistband of his trousers, so much it dribbles down the metal of the Audi, smeared across the door in sloppy strokes.

“Mi-Mine,” you growl, thighs squeezing around him as if you’re attempting to milk more juices from yourself, trying to stain him with you and stake your claim. 

“Yeah,” he nearly moans, hips beginning to stutter. “Yours, baby, niichan’s yours. Tell him again.” 

“You’re mine!” you sob out, nails gripping the sleek muscle of his shoulders with such strength the joints of your fingers crack and ache, clawing at him as if you’re trying to gorge every part of you on him, eat up every piece of him you can, stuff every bit of you as full of him as physically possible. 

“Fu-Fuck,” he keens, the curse shattering in his throat. “That’sa—That’s my good girl.”

He’s close now, you can tell; can hear it in the way his words keep splintering on his tongue, can feel it in the way his thrusts have gone from precise and particular to loose and sloppy, an urgent, uneven rutting of his hips.

“Fill me, fill me, fill me with your cock, niichan,” you’re gasping out, scrabbling at his neck, scraping skin and sweat beneath your nails. “Fill me with your cum, fill me so much, fill me until I can’t take anymore and it starts le-leaking out, all—all over the place.” 

And, well, he’s never been one to deny his precious baby sister what she wants. 

Because then he’s complying, hips stammering to a halt and pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs, stuffing you full of thick, burning cream. 

“More! More, more,” you’re gasping out as you try to fuck yourself on his twitching cock, desperate to pump him for everything he’s got to give, eliciting a breathless, broken little laugh falling from his lips. 

“S’all yours,” he manages to slur out, slumping a little against his car, knees beginning to quiver as his cock strives to please you, giving another weak spurt of cum. “S’all yours, princess, always.” 

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #todoroki touya smut #tw:pseudocest #tw:toxic relationship #tw:minimal prep #tw:public sex

[cranberryjuice-posts]

POOKIE IM BCK W ANOTHER REQUEST

OK SO ITS A AHORT ONE ITS A PERSEPHONE!FEM!REDER AND LIKE ITS AUTUSM OR FALL WHAYEVER YOU CALL OT (WHICH OS WHEN PERSEPHONE GOES DOWN IN THE UNDERWORLD BYW) AND THE DEMETER KIDS START GETTINF THAT SEASONAL DEPRESSION THING (I READ ONE HC ABOUT WHERE THEY BECOME VERY SAD AND DEMOTIVATED DURING THE WINTER BC OF THEIR MOTHER BEINF SAD TOO) SO THE READER TIRES TO LIKE WATER PLANTS AND FLOWERS AND SUCH FOR AS LONG AS RHEY CAN CAUSE FHEY FEEL HALF RESPONSIBLE FOR THE PLANT GROWTH

- ILY POOKIE YAKE CARE OF YOURAELF🫶🫶‼️‼️‼️‼️

- the four seasons -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Persephone! Reader

Synopsis - its winter and you want to help make the Demeter kids feel better about themselves

An - My AO3 fic is almost done 😻 I only have 6 more chapters to write.

Winter was one of the Harder seasons at camp. Not because of the weather, it was normally sunny and warm because of the special border but because the crops were heavily effected.

Growing slower and with lesser produce was an effect from Demeter’s depression with her daughter gone to the underworld. Her children were also effected with this, their moods down for the worse and many not even bothering leaving their cabins.

You were effected to. Your hair became duller and your eyes a darker color of gold. Spending nights awake and an odd craving of pomegranate also arises.

Laying with clarisse in her cabin as the rain outside helped water the fields you both just talked about upcoming events all while cuddling. You slowly ate pomegranate seeds, occasionally passing one to clarisse.

After a while the strong girl noticed your downer than normal mood. “What’s up, your never this quiet and when you are either your pissed at me or your sad”

You didn’t care for her attempt at a joke but it was fine. “I feel bad” you muttered holding your head up some.

“For what?” She asked trying to bring you some comfort.

“It’s winter and like normal my mom is in the underworld with hades and so forth and so forth and the Demeter kids really like having me around during this time, but I just wish there was something I could do for them to help make not just them but Demeter herself feel better”

It was an idea Of course. With the nature kids happier the crops would also show a good result from it. Though trying to bring all dozen and a half kids to a better mood was harder said then done.

Clarisse let out a soft sigh thinking about what to say. “I was thinking maybe like holding a small party of festival or something fun for the entire camp” You sat up stretching some. “If you came to ask Chiron with me maybe he’d say yes but I’d also need your cabins help to”

“Sounds like a plan. Only question though what makes you think the Demeter kids will come out of their cabin for this” she asked, reaching up and playing with a strand of your hair wrapping it around her finger.

“I’ll force them out, they all favor me mainly because of who my mom is” you shrugged. “So it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Whatever you say” she gave you a reassuring smile before sitting up and giving you a subtle kiss.

••

Chiron agreed Of course, finding your idea to be beneficial to everyone. It was honestly a surprise though when the Athena, Dionysius, and Aphrodite cabin offered to help to.

With the entire camp helping you set up things went easier. The statues around camp were adorned with flowers and honorary wooden statues made with grain, roses, florals and more for Demeter and Persephone were made as well.

A large bonfire was created and multiple decorations put up. The saytrs and nymphs helped make a wide spread of deserts and finger foods as well as bringing a more lively feel to the night. It warmed your heart just how much these kids and creatures cared about the well being of not only the Demeter children but also the camp just as much as you.

Convincing the cabin four kids to come out was easy. They all wore pajamas and their hair messy and a few even had blankets around them.

Katie gardener the cabin counselor walked forward confused. Taking the opportunity you met her half way. “We made a festival of sorts. It’s to celebrate winter and our mothers. I figured that maybe this would help cheer some of your moods… we even got the cloven council to agree to play music” the last part made you giggle some.

At first the Ginger girls face was unreadable. Up until she started to cry. Quickly comforting her the other Demeter children followed suit, letting their tears out which you knew they shared with their mother you to started to cry some.

As Katie pulled away she thanked you. Walking with her towards the fire the party had officially started. Each kid seemed to of gotten a random burst of energy, their hair became brighter same as their skin and the other campers around you noticed the growing grass and plants near by.

Though it wasn’t much it was clear the goddesses appreciated your party in their honor.

Once the wooden statues were burned at peak of the night, the festival came to an end. Everyone happily returned to their cabins and you walked with clarisse towards hers, decided to secretly spend the night with her.

In her bed again You smiled over at her. “Thank you Claire..”

“It was Nothing” she smiled gently, only a smile reserved for you. “All it took was getting silena to agree to the idea and everyone else agreed quickly”

The notion made you giggle. “Guess my thanks should go to silena”

“I guess it should”

You closed the small gap giving her a sweet kiss. She was to good for you. Pulling away and cuddling into the crook of her neck you happily fell asleep in your girlfriend arms.

The following morning, the amount of strawberries, grain, and other vegetation that had grown not only overwhelmed everyone but could of set the entire camp well off for the next three winters. Not only that but for the following week you and the Demeter children all seemed to have a glowing effect over your bodies. Showing the appreciation from the gods.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

[cookii-moon]

I think we should talk about more aspects to the ninjas powers actually. Nya gets to communicate with sea life so I don’t see why we can’t expand on them. Let Cole have special powers with gemstones, let Kai cause a heat wave!!

Heck we see Jay use wind in season 1, I know its a mistake but who’s to say that the elements of creation can’t use the other elements that are close to them. We even know from dragons rising that similar elements CAN exist. Smoke/ash is a natural byproduct of fire so there’s no reason Kai shouldn’t be able to have some control over that. Plants grow in soil, so there’s no reason Cole shouldn’t be able to at least handle nature somewhat. Maybe there’s more restrictions to it as opposed to the other holders of the elements, like Ash can use smoke whenever, but Kai can only manipulate smoke that comes from a fire. Bolobo can summon and control plants of any kind whenever he wants, but Cole can only accelerate the growth of seeds or manipulate plants that were already there. Jay can only direct the wind that already exists, he can’t accelerate or create it like Morro can.

and etc.

I dunno I think there’s a lot of cool stuff you can do with their powers. Also symbolism. I feel like people only scratch the surface on that but that’s probably an entire separate post LOL

#ninjago #ninjago cole #cole ninjago #lego ninjago #jay walker #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #kai jiang #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lloyd ninjago #jay ninjago #kai ninjago #zane ninjago #ninjago zane #zane julien #nya ninjago #ninjago nya #nya jiang #nya smith #kai smith #elemental powers #elements #tw smoke #tw fire

[mitsies]

clementines ; aki hayakawa

aki hayakawa hates your guts. unfortunately for him, he's stuck with you for an investigation.

aki hayakawa x reader, forced proximity, huddling for warmth, rivals to lovers, confessions, fluff fluff fluff! - wc: 2.5k

aki hayakawa doesn't see your appeal.

you're pretty, sure, and you can be funny sometimes (not that he'd ever dignify your humor by laughing at your jokes), and you've got a good head on your shoulders- but he just can't bring himself to like you. he's not too sure why.

you make him feel weird, in a way he's not very familiar with. his stomach turns when you're near and his palms go sweaty, and his throat runs dry. it feels like his heart is on fire and his blood is burning beneath his skin when you're near- he doesn't think he likes it.

and so, when aki realizes that you're the only person left to accompany him on an investigative mission, he's not the happiest in the world.

"hurry up," he states dully, as you flit around the devil hunter's headquarters in search of your coat.

"forgive me for not wanting to freeze my ass off outside."

"you don't have an ass to freeze off."

you freeze. "that was a low blow."

aki shrugs and turns, beginning to walk towards the exit. "you're taking too long."

"okay, okay, jesus. fine. i guess i'll just get hypothermia and die."

you're tailing him now, as he opens the door for you. "thank god."

you shoot him a wordless glare and his stomach drops- he isn't sure why. he doesn't talk to you again as he enters the driver's seat of the car.

you slide into the passenger's seat as he begins to drive. "so.. we're going to shinjuku? what for?"

he side-eyes you. "did you even read the information about this assignment?"

you shrug. "i skimmed it."

aki exhales. "we were given an anonymous tip about the gun devil's whereabouts."

you straighten at this, and he continues: "there's a system of old underground tunnels at the location we're headed to. we're checking that out."

"oh."

aki wants to punch you at that moment, because he looks over and sees you mulling over your thoughts and you look so good even when you don't mean to. he returns his eyes to the road.

the drive is quiet, except for your occasional statements or questions. aki's responses were brief and rude, and typically deterred further conversations. silence had settled around the two of you by the time you'd arrived at your destination.

the entrance to the tunnels is located on the outskirts of shinjuku. they were overgrown with ivy, and puddles of murky water are splattered around the entrance. aki watches you as you frown at the entrance.

"this looks like it's going to be gross." you dip the heel of your shoe into a puddle experimentally, watching as greenish sediment swirls around.

"you're going to have to get over it." your eyes shift to him at his words and suddenly aki's skin is burning, despite the chill of the tokyo night.

you're visibly irritated by him, and you roll your eyes and march into the tunnels. "of course. you're so right, as always. what would i do without you, the great and powerful aki hayakawa?"

the way you say his name sends a thrill of ice down his spine. aki pretends it was just the cold as he follows you inside.

you were right. the tunnels are indeed disgusting. they were obviously occupied at one point- the main passageway branches off into many different rooms.

each room, though, was either empty or lost to time. skeletal furniture and unidentifiable plant growth is all that's left. cobwebs gather in the corners and more filthy puddles collect in divots on the floors. the air smells heavy of mildew, and it's enough to make aki's skin crawl. he wonders how many people have died down here.

to your credit, you don't comment on the apparent ick-factor of the location. you diligently search every room, attentively leaving no stone unturned and pushing aside your own discontent.

aki might not like you, but you're undeniably good at your job. he can't fault you for that.

eventually, though, the both of you reach the end of the tunnels. at this point, you're deep underground. the light of your flashlights is the only thing illuminating the path forward.

"so, that intel was a bust," you state with a tight grin. aki scowls at you. "no shit, idiot."

you huff and turn away. "there's one room left. if we're lucky, that'll have what we need."

you open the door and, to both of your surprises, this room is fully furnished. aki is quick to enter behind you, letting the door close after him.

it's a small, cramped space, with a dust-covered desk in the center. the walls are lined with bookshelves that look like they haven't been touched in years, and an ancient rug that undoubtedly carries a disease or two lies on the floor.

"would you look at that," you start, turning to aki with glittering eyes, "maybe i'm magic."

he looks away from you, his heart burning under your gaze. "start looking."

you pour over the books, skimming covers and leafing through pages, while aki examines the desk. ultimately, though, he comes up empty-handed. he turns to you and sees that you've also found nothing of interest.

"i guess we got led on," you sigh.

"damn it." frustration bubbles up within him, and aki exhales heavily. he doesn't want to yell at you. he really could, and he kind of wants to, but he knows it's not your fault that he's pissed off.

he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, and you raise an eyebrow. "you can catch as many diseases as you want, aki, but let me and my nice clean lungs have their peace, please."

he wants to make fun of you. he wants to call you a coward, or some other trivial insult, because his blood is suddenly smoldering underneath his skin and it's all your fault for looking at him. but he just shoots you another glare before beginning to the office to light his cigarette in the hallway.

but as soon as he opens the door, a deafening crush of rock rains from the ceiling. the earth trembles and aki must've really, really pissed mother nature off because he's sent crashing back into the office's filthy stone flooring.

the collapse of the tunnel's roof ended almost as soon as it began. the thunderous rumbling ceases, and you're suddenly at aki's side.

"you're hurt. don't move." you stand, on edge, to try and survey the scene.

"i'm fine," aki tries, attempting to get up- but the world begins to spin and his leg hurts really fucking bad and he's back on the floor.

you let out a snort of laughter. "sure you are."

aki wants to say something but he snaps his jaw shut, watching from the ground as you pull open the office's door. a wall of massive rocks encases the entrance- some smaller ones begin to tumble back and you hop away with a small noise.

(aki thinks he might have brain damage, because he's smiling now. he bites the inside of his cheek to hide it.)

"okay," you declare, "we're kind of stuck here."

(aki is no longer smiling.)

he tries to stand for the second time, only to be humbled by gravity yet again- this time, you catch him before he slams into the stone flooring again.

"god, are you okay? do you have a concussion?" he grumbles something incoherent in response to your concerns. he sits leaning back against the wall as you fuss and examine him. (he hopes you don't catch how he has to look away because his face is undoubtedly flushed over your meticulous gaze.)

"oh my god," you start, as your eyes trail down to his left leg.

he tries to see what you do, pulling the pant leg up a bit, revealing his gnarled ankle. it's bruised and already bluing, with an ugly gash on the side. he's not sure how he didn't notice the blood before.

he pulls his pant leg back down. "whatever. we've got to find out how to get out of here."

you stare at him, unimpressed. "we're definitely stuck, aki. promise."

he wants to protest but he knows you're right. "god."

"yeah."

he tips his head back and closes his eyes in frustration- he has to have the worst luck. the sound of rustling clothing brings his attention back to you.

you're unbuttoning your plain black vest, which was your own addition to the devil hunter's plain uniform. aki always thought it looked good on you, though he'd only ever chided you about it for violating the dress code.

you pull it off of you and roll up the sleeves of your white button-up. he stares. "what're you doing?"

you glance up at him, and there's mirth in your eyes. "saving your life from the infectious diseases down here, hotshot."

aki rolls his eyes. he hates how helpless he feels, being unable to walk and underneath your watch. he can do nothing but observe as you wrap your vest around his cut leg deftly. your fingers brush against his skin, sending sparks throughout his nervous system.

once you're done tending to his wound, you retreat, and sit on the desk after dusting it off a bit. aki didn't realize how warm you were until you'd gone away.

"how long do you think we'll be here for until the other two come to get us?"

"probably a few more hours. they won't come until morning, at the earliest."

you purse your lips. "unfortunate. i was going to have chinese food tonight."

aki raises an eyebrow. "you can cook?"

"no," you say with a crooked grin, "but i have a takeout place on speed dial." i'm a horrid cook."

"i can imagine."

you laugh, and aki feels like he has just been given a warm hug. "what, are you a professional chef or something? who are you to judge me?"

he tries not to smile, but he thinks he does a poor job of it. "i could be a professional chef when compared to you."

you're grinning now, tilting your head with amusement as you tuck one leg underneath yourself on the desk. "you should teach me how to cook sometime."

and there's that feeling again- the unpleasant burn of every blood cell within aki's body, the thundering of his heart, the whirlpool in his gut. he impresses himself when he's able to form a coherent response. "maybe i will."

conversation flows between you and aki like a dam has been removed. he's still a little rude, and you still respond a little passive-aggresively, but it's easier to talk to you than aki remembers it ever being.

he begins to realize that he's not too sure why he disliked you in the first place. you were pretty, and you were intelligent. you had musical laughter and a sense of humor to match. you cared about things and people, and aki dared to think that he was one of them.

you were lying down on the desk now, hair fanning out behind you when you asked him what his favorite food was. you were hardly visible in the dim lighting, only discernable due to the white glow of the flashlight.

"i think oranges."

you pull yourself up. "oh. same."

"oranges are good."

"they are."

you pause for a second before brightening. "actually, wait-"

hopping off your desk, you fish around in a small messenger bag that you'd left on the floor at some point. you produce a small, brightly-colored fruit- a clementine.

"not quite an orange, but," you smile, moving to sit near aki on the floor, "i always keep one on me just in case."

you hand him the fruit, and he looks at you. "in case of what?"

(aki doesn't realize, but all the cruelties and demeaning words have died off his tongue. he doesn't care for them anymore, he's content with your company.)

you shrug. "bonding moments. i tried to give one to power before i realized that she's more of a... y'know. blood fan."

aki laughs.

(he's just as surprised as you are.)

he tries to compose himself as swiftly as possible, peeling the clementine gingerly. he splits the fruit in half, giving you the larger one.

the two of you eat your share in silence, an unspoken bond forming like ice over a freezing lake. aki thinks he likes clementines more than oranges now.

"you know," you say, after you're done with your slices, "i'm pretty sure you hate me. am i wrong?"

he freezes at your bluntness. "i don't... hate you."

he steals a glance at you. you're sitting with your knees pulled close to your chest, and aki takes in your side profile. he sees the curve of your lips, the slope of your nose, the taper of your chin- and he realizes that he could never hate you, not when he's in love with you.

oh.

aki hayakawa is in love with you.

"really? because you're kind of mean sometimes." you say it like it's a joke, but he can tell you're serious. he's still taking in his own realization, so for a few seconds, he just opens and shuts his jaws like a fish out of water.

he notices you shivering, and he realizes that you must be freezing- you lost your coat, after all, and your vest was currently tied around his bleeding leg. he shrugs off his blazer, and drapes it across your shoulders.

"i don't hate you," he struggles to get out. he looks away, and you blink.

"i don't hate you, too."

he expects the conversation to end there, but you keep going.

"i like you a lot, actually." you say it like it's a fact, like you didn't just put your heart out on a table for him to dissect. you don't look at him, either, even when he whips his head around to stare at you.

"oh."

"yep."

"thanks."

"uh-huh!"

aki doesn't know what to say. you seem content with the silence. he is not.

"you're cold," he states after a brief lapse in conversation.

now you look at him. "i mean, i was. but you gave me your jacket. i'm good now. thanks, by the way."

"no, i think you're still cold." you tilt your head at him, confused, before realization sparks behind your eyes.

"oh. oh, you're right. oh, great and powerful aki, i am so very cold and in need of warmth this fine, frigid winter night."

he rolls his eyes, awkwardly shuffling closer. until your shoulders touch and your legs are in line. he barely stops himself from exhaling sharply when your head falls onto his shoulder.

your body is warm against his, like a space heater, and aki doesn't think he's ever felt more alive. his hand absentmindedly finds its way around your waist and he feels your heartbeat pick up.

"goodnight," he finds it in himself to whisper a few minutes later.

you're already asleep.

(the next morning, aki wakes up to you standing up by the carpet, which you'd moved to reveal a wooden trapdoor, leading to daylight- an escape hatch.

you stare at him. he stares at you.

"we suck at this," you whisper as if it's not just the two of you in the room.

aki grimances.

"you do," he says, even though he doesn't regret a single thing.)

author's note: plz ignore anything wrong i have not watched csm🤭

#aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #hayakawa aki #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man #aki #reader insert

[ineffable-endearments]

I was rethinking the bookshop meta I wrote a while ago and realized I was not thinking big enough.

The bookshop has always been Aziraphale's version of Crowley's plants (his trauma reenactment), but also, absolutely everything Aziraphale does in Season 2 is a re-creation of Heaven's role. Crowley's behavior also encompasses everything, not just his plants.

I've seen it suggested that centering Aziraphale and Crowley's trauma histories is reducing their characters to behaving like just reactive victims instead of survivors with agency. Or worse, it's "excusing bad behavior." I don't agree with either of these, because I feel that part of Good Omens is about how large, powerful systems affect individuals, and so the context of every character's decisions matters a lot to the overall themes of the story. Everyone starts out working within a system they believe to reflect reality and then has to learn how to break free of it. You cannot really illustrate that without having the characters start out being genuinely trapped with different ways of coping with their reality.

This is an attempt at a pretty big-picture meta. Although it isn't a plot prediction, it's how I think some of the series' themes are going to progress. It starts out perhaps a little grim, but in the long run, it's how Aziraphale's character growth and relationship with Crowley can simultaneously be massive for them as individuals, a crucial part of the overarching narrative message of the series, and symbolic of a change in all of Heaven and Hell, all while allowing the themes to continue to prioritize human free will.

In short, it's about Aziraphale's problems, but it's also meant to be an Aziraphale love post.

All of the below exists in tandem with Good Omens as a comedy of errors. Just because there are heavy ideas does not mean they will not also be funny. Look back on how much of Season 2 seemed silly until we started to pick it apart! One of the amazing things about Good Omens is how it manages to do both silly and serious at once! (I feel like that's maybe a little Terry Pratchett DNA showing through. "Laughter can get through the keyhole while seriousness is still hammering on the door," as Terry himself said.)

Aziraphale has really embraced his connection to Crowley in Season 2, and he has also become considerably more assertive toward Heaven and Hell. These are both major growth points compared to the beginning of Season 1.

However, again, we have the concept of growing pains...Aziraphale is starting to re-create Heaven's role in his relationship with Crowley and humanity. It's really obvious with the Gabriel argument and the I Was Wrong Dance, but I think we see it all over the place: he seems to feel any serious dissent is a betrayal. He also seems to assume there's a dominance hierarchy and he, of course, is on top. Now that he's decided to take control of his own future, then surely that does mean he's the one in control, right?

With all that said, he still seems to have trouble being direct about the feelings that make him most vulnerable. He manipulates people and engineers situations in which he can try to get his emotional needs met rather than saying things outright (case in point: the Ball).

Like I pointed out in the bookshop meta: subconsciously, he's playing the role of God, modified with what God would be if She were everything he wants Her to be. He's generous, almost infinitely sweet, always does what's best for people...or, at least, what he believes is best for people. During the Ball, Aziraphale influences the people around him to be comfortable and happy even when they're not supposed to be, and he limits their ability to talk about things he thinks are too rude or improper for happy, formal occasions.

Doesn't this pattern sort of make sense for an angel who's just discovering free will? Like, at the end of Season 1, he made an enormous choice to stand against Heaven and realized he could survive it. Now he's gone a bit overboard with exerting his own will. Unfortunately, while he's learned to question upper management, he's still operating on a fundamental framework of the universe where there have to be two sides and there has to be a hierarchy. Also, since Aziraphale is on the Good side, he of course has to gear his desires into what's Good rather than just what he wants, so he sometimes thinks he's doing things for others when really he's doing things for himself. (For example, matchmaking Maggie and Nina started out as something he wanted to use to lie to Heaven, but by the time he was commenting "Maggie and Nina are counting on me," he seemed sincere, like he had genuinely convinced himself this was for them and not for himself.)

Aziraphale knows Heaven interferes in human affairs, ostensibly on God's behalf. He thinks She should be intervening in ways that are beneficial. What I believe the narrative wants him to learn is that God and Heaven shouldn't be manipulating people at all, not even for Good, and in fact there is no real meaningful hierarchy.

Anyway, a top-down, totally unquestioned hierarchy is the primary social relationship Aziraphale has known, and it's certainly been the dominant one for most of his existence: you're either the boss or the underling, and if someone seriously questions you, they don't have faith in you - they don't respect you.

No, his relationship with Crowley has not always been like that, but they've been creating their relationship from whole cloth, so how would he know it shouldn't become that way, now that it's "real" and out in the open?

No, human relationships aren't like that, but Aziraphale clearly does not see himself or Crowley as human. As the relationship approached something that seemed like it must be "legitimate," Aziraphale would naturally look for a framework to fit it to. And again, the only one he has is the shape of "intimacy," or what passes for it, in Heaven. What has "trust" always meant in all his "legitimate" relationships? It has always meant unquestioning obedience, of course. What have the warm fuzzies felt like in Heaven? Well, praise from the angels above him is nice, so that must be it, right?

Aziraphale even describes being in love as "what humans do," separating out that relationship style. Someday, I think he'll realize he favors the shape of love on Earth, something that's more inherently equal, more give-and-take. Look at how he idealizes it from afar at the Ball. But I think that, like Crowley before Nina pointed it out, Aziraphale maybe hasn't 100% grokked that it can and in fact should work that way for him and Crowley, too. Just like people can desperately want to dance without knowing how to dance, or can desperately want to speak a language without knowing the language, Aziraphale does not instinctively know how to have the kind of relationship where he can be truly vulnerable and handle Crowley's vulnerability as well.

Aziraphale is downright obsessed with French, known as the "language of love." He's trying to learn it the Earthly way. He's not very good at it, but he wants to be.

This pattern is still present during the Final Fifteen even if we assume Aziraphale is asking Crowley to become an angel again out of fear (and I find it very hard to believe that fear doesn't factor in at all). He's still building his interactions off of that Heaven-like framework: he asks Crowley to trust him blindly, he tries to assume a leadership role with a plan Crowley never agreed to and couldn't follow anyway, and he tries very hard not to leave room for an ounce of doubt. He also suggests making Crowley his second-in-command and obviously does not register that this could possibly be offensive. Again, I think this is because for Aziraphale, there has always been a hierarchy in Heaven, it's started to transfer to his relationship with Crowley, and breaking out of that assumption about relationships is going to take more processing than a single argument can do.

As I mentioned in another post, I don't believe Aziraphale had a real choice about whether he accepted the Supreme Archangel position. I think he could sense that he was not getting out of it and chose to look on the bright side, to see it as an opportunity. And instead of looking realistically at how that would feel to Crowley, he tried to sweep Crowley up to Heaven with him using toxic positivity, appeals to morality, and appeals to their relationship itself. Again, mimicking what Heaven has done to him.

To me, "they're not talking" is a big clue that Aziraphale's approach with Crowley is going to be the mistake the narrative really wants him to face. "Not talking" has, thus far, been presented as the central conflict of Season 3! After losing the structure and feedback Heaven gave him, Aziraphale started creating Heaven-like patterns in his relationship with Crowley, and breaking out of those patterns is what he needs to do. Discovering first-hand that Heaven's entire modus operandi is bad no matter who's in charge is how he can do it.

Look, either you're sympathetic to Aziraphale's control issues or you're not. Personally, I am. He's trying so, so hard to be good. I think trying to figure yourself out (which Aziraphale is clearly doing) is hard enough, and when you start balancing what you want for yourself, what you think are your responsibilities, and what other people are actively asking of you, you're bound to fall into the patterns that have been enforced for your whole life or for millions of years, whichever came first.

It is very easy to assume that people should Just Be Better, but it's not actually that simple to be a thinking, feeling person. My anxiety tends to move in a very inward direction and Aziraphale's moves outward. But I'd imagine the desperation and exhaustion are the same.

Unlike Nina, Aziraphale became a rebound mess. I don't think it occurred to either him or to Crowley that there could be any soul-searching, anything but carrying on with the new normal after their stalemate with Heaven and Hell.

Now, instead of getting rejected by Heaven and surviving it, Aziraphale needs to be the one to reject Heaven. It needs to be a choice. And that choice is going to come from realizing that Heaven isn't just poorly managed but also represents a bad framework for all relationships.

How could this happen? Good question. We're obviously not supposed to know yet, although I think picking at existing themes within the narrative could possibly give us hints.

It's possible Aziraphale's character development trajectory will be akin to Adam Young's in Season 1. Please see this stellar post by eidetictelekinetic for more thoughts about it, but basically, in Season 1, Adam saw that the world was not what he wanted it to be and decided his vision was better; as he ascended to power, he took complete control over all his friends and then soon realized that's not what he wants because there's no point in trying to have relationships with people who can't choose you. It's that realization that leads Adam to conclude he doesn't want to take over the world and to reject the role he's expected to play as the Antichrist. Maybe Aziraphale's trip to Heaven is an attempt at a control move during which he'll realize he's defeating his own point.

Aziraphale clearly wants to be chosen. From the very beginning, he's wanted to be special and cared for - just like Crowley has.

Incidentally, I think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to represent pieces of the bigger picture here, and this - first imitating and then rejecting Heaven's relationship style - can both symbolize Heaven's transformation and directly start it (probably in an amusing, somewhat indirect way, like when he handed off the flaming sword to Adam).

If I'm right - which I may very well not be - I think this would all be so, SO cool. Like, "An angel who is subconsciously trying to be a better God" is a concept with so much potential for both tender kindness and incredible darkness. Add to that the comedy-of-errors aspect of "...but even deeper down, he'd much rather just be super gay on Earth" and you have, in my opinion, a perfect character.

I think this could work for Crowley as well. It's obvious that in the Good Omens universe, at least so far, Hell is all about detesting humans and punishing them; Satan seems to genuinely hate humans (unlike in some of NG's other works). Our perspective on this could change, but it potentially puts Crowley in a complementary position to Aziraphale, as a demon who is trying to be "better" than Satan. But this isn't about being "morally better." It's about things having a point. Crowley's exploits usually have a point: they test people. And you can pass his tests! He sincerely likes making trouble, but Crowley doesn't live to punish.

But, once again, the above paragraph would describe a transient phase for this infinitely charming character. Because, again, I think the point will be that in the end, Crowley's deeper-down desire, moreso than testing Creation, is watching it grow with a glass of wine in hand.

#go3 speculation

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Something has been bugging me since the end of the Playful land event: How does the world not notice that these people are never seen again after going to this park. Even if its stated that only the positive magicam posts are the only things that leave the park, surely those guest's families/friends/employers/neighbors that didn't attend the park wouldn't eventually notice their absence. Moreover, how does no one still on land notice that the moving park leaves whilst everyone is still on it, and it never comes back to drop them off.

Makes me wonder if Twst has some sort of United Nations that would be alerted of this and set a worldwide lock down, so when the park needs to connect to a mainland again the country's military can apprehended them.

One of the biiig question marks of both Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land are all of the potential repercussions of Rollo/Fellow's schemes coming into fruition. The stakes of these two events are notably much higher than your typical TWST event, and that opens their stories up to further scrutiny. I'll talk about GloMasq first, then Playful Land, since I feel the former is also relevant to the points the asker mentioned.

This is going to be kind of a long post, so I'll slap everything below a cut! ^^

I don't know how frequently this is brought up, but I've heard some say it's unrealistic how Rollo was able to find the seeds for a supposedly wiped out plant and cultivate a ton in secret for his master plan. Now, I'm willing to suspend my disbelief in this instance because:

Spite can make a person do insane things (and what is Rollo is not spiteful as heck)

Rollo has lore which paints him as a diligent person who has a talent for gardening, so it feels in line for his character; he also seems to have an interest in history and is extremely neurotic so I could buy that he obsessively researched until he came across records or some trail to the flowers

The Bell of Salvation's ringing twice in a row is what triggers the flowers to bloom, and this has not happened prior to GloMasq because Rollo is the one who is consistently tending to the bell + the bell normally has a preset schedule; anyone that passes by the flowers would do so when they are inactive, and they are such an old phenomenon to begin with that no one in modern day would really recognize it or the danger the flowers pose

The narrative of GloMasq never calls attention to HOW Rollo was able to get the seeds, so it's not something that comes to mind unless you as the fan speculate about it; this doesn't come across as a plot hole, but it would be one if the narrative had pointed it out because then it would practically be obligated to fill the details in

The other major logical fallacy of GloMasq is that Rollo's machinations would have inevitably led to chaos once the flowers reached the rest of Twisted Wonderland, as some sections of society are reliant on magic. Now, I disagree with the notion that mages could band together and fight back against the flowers; we've seen from how the NRC students handle it that this would be a pretty useless effort since only the super powerful (which are few and far between) would be able to muster up enough magic to overpower the flowers. The majority of people are non-mages though, so the argument could be made that these people could help the mages by weeding or something similar. The question is, could this truly outpace the growth and attack of the flowers, especially when the average mage has far lower magical reserves than the average NRC student??? Remember how long it took the NRC kids (who are mostly healthy, youthful, and strong) to weed just the flowers in the waterways? My money's on the crimson flowers just overrunning the entire world long before they can be plucked out.

I actually think most societies would still be intact and able to operate without magic, seeing as 90% of the human population (which is implied to be the predominant race) are non-mages. Only very select industries and professions require magic to operate, and these are overrepresented to us (the players) since we are seeing the perspectives of mainly students who attend an elite magic school. These magical sectors, as well as societies which run primarily on everyday magic use (like Briar Valley) are the ones that would be the most in danger. This most likely explains why Malleus in particular was so panicked about Rollo's plans: if fully realized, his people would be in grave danger. This is not outright stated, but can be inferred. The main story also retroactively affirms Malleus's fears of being powerless. He was always told by his grandmother that the Draconias have great power so they can defend their people's smiles. What happens if that magic is stripped away? Then he is no longer able to protect his people nor his loved ones. In this way, GloMasq works well as both a standalone event as well as supplements TWST' grander story. It does not challenge what we already know but does support it.

Altogether, most details in GloMasq make sense and the event doesn't go out of its way to create more questions than answers. This... isn't the case for Playful Land. In fact, I would say that Playful Land does the opposite (in trying to explain plot holes, it creates a LOT more questions) and tries to hand wave everything away with one thing: money.

Firstly, Playful Land is kidnapping and trafficking innocent people (even if the park is said to be a more recent phenomena). Would their friends and family not notice they went missing and report this to the local authorities? My guess is yes, it's just not elaborated on in the event itself since the perspective through which the story is told is limited (Yuu doesn't know this world that well + the NRC kids, who are the people Yuu gets a lot of the lore from, are mostly privileged and don't need to worry about crimes of this magnitude). I believe the "people go missing, why aren't the police doing anything about it" can maybe allude to real world crimes that occur but aren't reported or resolved, which is very scary to think about. I don't know if this was the intention of the devs, but the comparison is certainly there and can be made. Or maybe it’s just that law enforcement hasn’t caught up yet?

It’s also odd to me that so many people were able to be taken by this huge, very showy moving park. I think that Fellow lures people out under the cover of night (which was the case with the NRC students, I will assume this is the case for the other victims too), but???? Even so, there are night owls and cities that don’t sleep. You mean to imply there were zero witnesses whatsoever??? Even though Playful Land is so big and bright, especially at night… Maybe this part plays into the idea that crimes may be reported but aren’t necessarily resolved…? That’s the only way I can rationalize it in my head.

Where the bulk of the issues start to come in is in alllllll the surrounding details. For example, a lot of the NRC students Fellow is kidnapping are connected to wealthy and influential families. How the heck are Fellow and his benefactors going to keep Vil’s fans, the Kingscholars, the Shrouds, the Asims, the hypothetical Leech mob family, and maybe even Maleficia herself and Malleus, from coming after their asses???? AND FELLOW SPECIFICALLY FUCKED UP BY ENCOURAGING THEM TO “INVITE THEIR FRIENDS” FROM SCHOOL… because guess who will be spilling the beans to the headmaster about students going missing the day after inviting everyone to go to this supposedly “free” amusement park?? All the students Fellow told them to blab to just so he could catch more of them 😭 Then from there it would definitely escalate and governments might get involved since Leona is a prince and Kalim has royal relatives. I could see Playful Land having to go on the run (as in, have supplies delivered to them rather then docking for them, knowing that police or military would be there to arrest them at ports). But they can’t do that forever, especially since not being able to dock effectively prevents them from picking up new prey.

With the combined powers of the NRC victims’ families, they would surely be able to challenge the people behind Playful Land, no?? Unless you mean to tell me these mysterious people somehow have more power than literal royalty AND the Asims combined??? And we’ve never heard of them until just now??? Okay, you’re starting to lose me here because this is adding on top of the lore we already have but in a way that comes off as difficult to believe since the amount of wealth and power some of the NRC kids have is already ridiculous.

Playful Land is also supposedly constructed by very powerful mages which makes me wonder why they got together to create such a thing???? Did they literally all get bribed with enough money to agree to this project? Were they deceived about the true nature of it?? Are the other 4 of the top 5 strongest mages involved in any way??? How was this not publicized that it was a project that very strong mages were working on given how few mages there actually are and how much Playful Land is talked about in online rumors??

Speaking of online rumors, that’s another thing. How are the people behind Playful Land able to monitor any and all talk about their park to this degree?? This is the internet we’re talking about here, surely stuff will fall through the cracks or come to light eventually. Someone would leak insider info, someone would say something.

The easy explanation given for everything is that there are very rich and very powerful people running these operations. They would be able to silence people who speak out against them or bribe the corrupt into complying or looking the other way. Maybe that’s just a sad truth I don’t want to acknowledge (because this stuff for sure happens irl 😞) but that all sounds WAY too convenient for fiction (where the devs have total control over the circumstances) especially when we’re given so little lore for who these benefactors actually are.

There’s still way too many questions and even turning on suspension of disbelief couldn’t stop those questions from arising in my head. At best, I think we could give the devs the benefit of the doubt and say this was intentional to keep up the idea of a “shadowy” underbelly to Twisted Wonderland society. Even so, that doesn’t account for every little thing and the event’s attempts to explain it all only makes more things to explain.

I tried to explain my perspective as best I can here! However, I admit that there may be bias in my judgment because I’ve made it no secret that GloMasq is my favorite TWST story event. Please let me know if you have any other issues with GloMasq’s narrative or if you have explanations for the issues I pointed out for Playful Land; I would love to hear your takes too ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Fellow Honest #Gidel #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question