#convict!noah

[poppy-in-the-woods]

My Ride or Die

Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. Today it’s his birthday, and you prepared something special for the conjugal visit.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 2904

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: smut, oral sex (female and male receiving), rough sex, love bites, strong language, convict!Noah, mentions of violence.

Author's note: This is, as usual, unbeataed. I also wrote it directly in English to practice, and it has only been proofread by DeepL (I follow the rule that if the translation is grammatically correct, then everything is probably right). Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.

@artificialbreezy

It was Noah’s birthday, and, like the last two, he was locked away. He didn’t regret it one bit; what he did, he did it for you, the love of his life. It was odd that you didn’t visit him the previous week, since you’ve been pretty consistent with your weekly visits, but he knew you would never miss it if not for a good reason.

“Davis!” one of the prison guards called him.

Noah was watching TV with his friends, Nick, Folio and Jolly.

“What?” he asked, turning around to look at the man.

“Conjugal visit,” the guard said.

He got up, his friends wolf-whistling and patting his back.

“Lucky bastard!” said Jolly.

Noah followed the guard to the designated space, through several corridors and doors.

“Have fun with that pretty little thing of yours,” the guard said, with a gross tone.

Noah ignored him and entered the room. The door closed behind him with a loud clank, and the lock clicked in place. You got up the bed and ran to him, hugging him.

“Sorry I missed the last week, I got an unexpected change of schedule at work,” you said. He said nothing, but hold you in his arms, pushing you flush against his chest. “I should have called you, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, and you know I can’t keep a secret from you.”

“You prepared a birthday surprise for me?” he asked, smiling, pulling away just enough to look at your face. You nodded, smiling back at him. “Let’s see it, then.”

“Sit down and close your eyes,” you instructed him. “And don’t open them until I say you can.”

“But I like to watch you undress!” he complained, pouting.

“You're gonna have to go without it this time,” you replied.

“Okay,” he sighed, defeated, and sat on the bed, closing his eyes.

You undressed, putting your clothes on the chair that was in a corner. The whole room was pretty austere, just the bed, one nightstand and the chair, no rugs and no decoration. A door led to a small bathroom. You stood before him, resisting the urge to hug yourself.

“You can look now,” you instructed him.

The lingerie set you were wearing, in fiery red, was the most lace-y and risqué you owned, with lots of pieces and transparent panels. It also showed you new tattoo, his name, right between your breasts.

“Baby,” he panted, almost drooling at the sight.

“Do you like it?” you asked, turning around slowly so he could appreciate all of it.

“I fucking love it!” he said. You straddled his thighs. “I can’t wait to take it off, though.”

You chuckled, kissing him, grinding your hips against his crotch while his hands roamed your body to finally settle on your hips. He squeezed your barely clothed ass, pushing you against him; his cock was fully hard now.

He began undressing with your help, and let you push him down on the mattress once he was fully naked; pushing the fabric of the panties aside, you rubbed your pussy against his erection, coating him in your juices. He bit his lip, suppressing a moan.

“You feel so good, baby” he said. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

 You kissed him, smiling, and got up to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. During your first conjugal visit, Noah had joked that you were fucking on tax-payer’s money, and you couldn’t help but remember every time.

He got up, resting on his elbows, to watch you roll the condom over his dick. Without wasting any time, you sat on his lap again, guiding him to your entrance, sinking slowly until he was fully inside. You both moaned at the same time.

“Have I told you this is the best pussy I’ve ever had?” he said.

“Just once or twice every time we fuck,” you laughed.

“Well, that way you won’t forget,” he said, gripping your hips with such force it might leave some bruises. You started moving, moaning into his ear. He kissed your neck. “I spend every day we’re apart daydreaming of us, fucking each other’s brains out.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Huh?”

“Where are we in those scenarios of yours?” you clarified.

“Oh. Well, it varies… our home, the woods, the beach… this prison,” he admitted. “I imagine it’s empty and we fuck in every room and office that there is.”

“You do?”

“I once almost got in trouble because of it,” he laughed.

“You gotta tell me that… after we’ve finished this round,” you said.

“Agreed,” he said.

You picked up your pace, riding him like he was a wild stallion you wanted to tame, and it was not an exaggeration, because while he let you be on top, he refused to be a passive part, and moved his hips in time with yours, all while praising you and exploring your body with his hands and mouth.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum!” he said after more or less ten minutes, giving your butt another squeeze.

“Cum for me,” you encouraged him, gently tugging at the roots of his hair.

“But you haven’t…”

“It doesn’t matter,” you interrupted him. “It’s your birthday, you get to cum first, and I’m not gonna stop until your balls are empty. Be a good boy and give it to me!”

Noah came, loudly moaning your name. You kissed him, your hips stopping gradually. He laid back on the bed, breathing shallowly.

“Good God!” he exclaimed, pushing his hair out of his face. He turned his face to you. “How can you manage to fuck like that and still look so innocent right after?”

“It’s a gift,” you joked, lying beside him. “Tell me about that story you mentioned before, please.”

“Okay. So the other day, there was this guy, a newbie, that decided to pick on me at lunch. He kept trying to bust my balls (and not in a fun way), so I pushed him. He tried to punch me, but failed, and I punched him, you know, to show him who’s boss. That afternoon, the warden calls me into his office,” he began, resting on his side to look at you more comfortably. “He tells me ‘Davis, you gotta watch out that attitude or I will be obligated to put you in isolation, and you won’t be seeing your wife for a month.’”

“What a prick,” you commented.

“Right? The thing is, the moment he mentioned you, all I could think of was us, fucking on his desk,” Noah laughed. “I could picture you so vividly, butt-naked over his paperwork, legs curled around my hips, hands on my shoulders, head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure… I got a hard-on. Can you imagine?” he asked, you laughed. Yes, you could imagine it.

» I was so hard and he was still berating me, ‘Davis this’ and ‘Davis that’, and ‘watch out, lest some more years are added to your sentence!’. And then he realized I was not listening. He looked at me, really looked at me, you know? And I was totally spaced out, cock fully hard and gripping my own knees so hard my knuckles went white, trying to contain the urge to touch myself. Because in my mind, I had already made you come three times, and now you were riding me, just like you did now, your glorious tits bouncing on my face, and I swear I could have come with that thought alone. He had to ruin it, though, snapping me back to reality.

“What did he say?”

“He screamed my name, full volume. ‘Snap out of it, son, she’s not here and she won’t be for a long time if you don’t control yourself! I could send your sorry ass to isolation for this alone!’” Noah told you, doing his best impression of the warden. “So I apologized to him and he dismissed me. I went back to my cell, still half hard, and jerked off.”

“That’s kinda funny” you admitted.

“I missed you so much…!” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I miss you every day, the touch of your skin, the sound of your laugh, and your smell… wish I could bottle it so I could get drunk on it!”

“I miss you too, my love. I hate that you have to be here, but I’m grateful that I can still see you,” you said, kissing him briefly, “and that we can still have these moments.”

“I hate that I am in here too, but I would do it again if I had to. Killing for you is always worthy,” he said, resting on his back again.

You moved to rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him and putting a leg between his. He had saved you and ended up there for you, the least you could do was support him through his sentence.

“You’re the best husband I could wish for!” you said, caressing his tattooed chest. “Think you’re ready for round two?”

“Fuck yeah I am!”

“Help me take this off,” you asked, touching the lace.

“Sure, baby!” he said, his nimble fingers working the clasps.

After a minute, you were as naked as he was. Looking at him, you knelt on the floor. He looked back at you a bit confused.

“I made you a promise before: until your balls are empty, and I fully intend to keep that promise,” you reminded him.

“Okay, but you still haven’t come,” he pointed out.

“I can touch myself while sucking you, if you want,” you suggested.

“Or you can sit on my face and we give oral to each other at the same time,” he countered.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Damn sure! C’mon, baby, you have a seat waiting for you here,” he encouraged you, laying down again.

“Okay, as you wish, it’s your birthday.”

“You’re damn right it is!”

Noah always had a talented tongue and he loved eating you out. It was kind of hard to concentrate on sucking him off while he was working his magic with your pussy, though. Then he added two fingers to the mix, massaging your G-spot the way he knew you liked it, and it was impossible to concentrate.

“Noah, my love, I can’t think if you keep doing that,” you warned him.

“Don’t worry, just ride my face and then you can kneel on the floor and finish sucking me,” he said.

“O-okay,” you panted in response. “But let me turn around.”

You changed positions so you could make eye contact with him. His free hand flew to one of your boobs, massaging it. You put our hand over his and arched your back, moaning. You had toys back at home, and you always thought of him while you masturbated, but nothing compared to the real deal. The orgasm shook you with such force it made you see white and tears rolled down your cheeks. You collapsed on the bed beside him.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked cupping your face with a worried expression, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“I don’t want to go home,” you said. “I want to stay with you, in here, forever.”

“I don’t want this to end either, but we’re having a good time, aren’t we?”

“The greatest time, that’s precisely why I don’t want it to end,” you said, pouting. “I’m gonna hug you so tight the guard will have to take me to the cell with you. I can sleep in your bed, I don’t mind,” you half-joked.

“I think Nick would mind if we don’t let him sleep,” he laughed. “And you know I can’t resist you when you’re so close.”

It was true. Luckily, you had a similar sex drive to him. You kissed him, desperately, blindly, and he kissed you back with equal fervor. For a couple of minutes, you lied there, closely embracing, trying to devour each other, all teeth and tongue and ragged breath, until you couldn’t take it. His lips moved to your neck while you took a gulp of air. His cock was still hard, heavy against your leg.

“How do you want me to take care of this?” you asked, caressing it.

“Let me fuck you hard,” he said.

For him, hard meant fast and rough, leaving bite marks all over your body, and it usually left you feeling a bit tender downstairs for a couple of days, the slight discomfort a sweet reminder of how much he loved you.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you agreed.

He began by marking your body, biting and sucking everywhere, claiming you as his.

“Fucking love this,” he said, pausing for a moment and gently brushing the tip of his nose to the black letters over your sternum.

“Glad you do,” you replied, fingers running through his hair.

“Pass me a condom, baby,” he asked.

You did, watching him fumble a bit with the foil package before he rolled it over his erection, mentally bracing for what was about to come. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it that way, but you still needed to prepare. He squirted one of the single-dose packages of lube over the rubber to make it easier on you.

Maybe your mother was right and you had a masochistic vein, you thought while he fucked you hard in several positions and you touched yourself.

“Harder!” you demanded.

“I don’t think you can take it harder, baby,” he said, panting.

“Please,” you begged.

“Okay, since you ask so nicely…” he said.

He pushed your face against the mattress, hand fisting the roots of your hair, your ass in the air, and he penetrated you again, making you whimper.

“You okay, baby?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Good. I love you, so, so much!” he exclaimed, pounding into you.

“I love you too!”

You were feeling the orgasm so close it was nearly within reach.

“Almost there, baby!” he warned you.

“Cum for me,” you commanded.

You reached your orgasm more or less at the same time as him, your walls contracting around him, and he screamed your name while he emptied his load in the condom. He collapsed on the bed beside you, panting. For a moment or two while you recovered, none of you moved or said anything. After that, you turned to look at him and hugged him.

“You almost rip my dick off,” he joked, smoothing your hair.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you milked me dry.”

“I told you, I made you a promise,” you smiled.

“My balls are empty,” he laughed.

“Good, because I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to have sex for two weeks, and then my period is due,” you informed him.

“Normal visits, then,” he said. “Can you bring me a pastrami sandwich from the deli I like?” he requested.

“Sure!”

“You’re so good to me!” he sighed, kissing the top of your head.

“You’re certainly lucky that my libido is as high as yours and I like the same sex stuff you do,” you laughed.

“Yeah, I am lucky. But next time we’ll focus on you, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, you still have one more birthday wish, if that’s how you want to spend it, fine by me,” you said, kissing his clavicle. “I love when you give me lots of orgasms until I can’t take it anymore.”

“I certainly love doing that,” he chuckled, “and you’ve been such a good girl you deserve it.”

Not long after, you had to go. After one last kiss, the guard took Noah deep inside the prison while you left. His friends were still hanging out in the tv room.

“How’s the missus?” asked Folio.

“She’s okay. Her boss is still an asshole, but it’s no big deal,” he said, sitting on the chair.

“Saw her crossing the street. She was almost limping,” Jolly commented.

“We had a heated birthday lovemaking session,” Noah explained, with a smug expression.

“I bet, I thought I could hear her screaming your name a couple of times,” Nick laughed.

“Last week she got my name tattooed between her tits,” he told them. “I can’t wait ‘til it’s healed so I can lick it while we fuck.”

“Damn, that’s hot!” Folio sighed. “Wish I had a missus like yours.”

“We all wish we had a wife like Noah’s,” Jolly laughed.

Later that night, when Noah and Nick were alone in the cell, Nick dared to bring out a subject they usually didn’t talk about. He was the only one who knew Noah and you from before the prison, and the three of you had gone on a bender quite some times.

“You think if we tell the warden about that one wild night in Miami, he’ll let me go in with you the next conjugal visit?” he half joked.

“No way. Besides, that was years ago and we were drunk.”

“I know. Still, it was the best head.”

“She does give pretty killer blowjobs,” Noah admitted, smiling. Maybe you could give him one next time before he dedicated himself to you.

“Take care of her, man, or some free guy will snatch her up!”

“That could never happen. She’s my ride or die and I’m hers.”

While they were talking, you were writing a letter.

Dear Noah,

It’s only been a few hours since we last saw each other, but I already miss you...

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson #joakim jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #poppy writes #my ride or die #convict!noah sebastian #convict!noah

[yellowsunflower]

Today after reading thru Genesis 6, I saw that God specifically noted Noah as a just man. Why was that important? Micah 6:8 What would God note about you and me?

#bible #devotion #genesis #Micah #Noah #flood #Christian #characteristics #conviction #daily thought

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 61 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The wedding day itself wasn't all that important to Bradley. He just wanted to get to the point where you and he were officially married, and the details didn't much matter. At least that's what he thought before he saw you step out of the house. Then he realized that these were the exact moments he'd never planned for but desperately needed to experience.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley must have been able to tell that you were anxious on Friday evening. It was just a normal day, really. He went to work and dropped Noah off at preschool on the way. You used a vacation day to clean up the house a little bit with the promise that you wouldn't overexert yourself. And you made some snack trays for Saturday afternoon along with a lasagna for dinner.

But to you, it wasn't a normal day at all, because you were getting married tomorrow. Whenever you started thinking about it, you had to stop what you were doing and sit down for a few minutes. When Bradley left with Noah this morning, he kissed you goodbye like he always did, seemingly unfazed by the weekend plans. But now it was hitting you hard. You were getting married.

When the boys got home, they ran inside while Skittles barked at them. "Hi, Mommy! I painted a wedding!"

Bradley scooped Noah up with one arm before he got to you, and Noah brandished a colorful painting that looked absolutely nothing like a wedding, but you took it and exclaimed, 'It's perfect!"

"I know," he replied as you kissed him on the cheek. Then he started to squirm to the floor, and after that, Bradley's lips were on yours.

"It smells good in here," he whispered. Then he really looked at your face and asked, "Everything okay?"

You nodded and kind of half shrugged. "Yeah."

"You and the baby feeling okay?"

"Mmhmm."

He gave you a skeptical look. "We're getting married tomorrow, Baby," he murmured, holding up a cup from the coffee shop. He'd written Princess across it like he always did, and you looked up at his earnest eyes as tears filled yours. "If you've got cold feet, then I-"

"No!" you gasped, reaching for the cup and pressing your body to his. "No," you told him with all of the conviction you had. "I love you." His arm wrapped around your back, and you felt instantly better. You tried not to jostle the coffee too much as you ran your fingers along his cheek and up into his hair. "It's just hard for me to believe I was just your babysitter earlier this year."

Bradley smiled and said, "You were never just my babysitter. God, I wanted you bad. Right from the start. In my bed, and in my life."

You let your cheek rest against his shoulder as you inhaled the scent of French vanilla coffee, and Bradley traced your spine with his fingers until you shivered. "I wanted you just as bad, Daddy."

He kissed the top of your head. "Nothing's changing. You know that, right? We'll just have a little piece of paper saying we're legally married, but nothing is really going to change. We can take a honeymoon next year. We can eventually tell your parents we got married if you feel like it, or not. We can talk about combining the rest of our bank accounts if you want to. But it's still just me and you. Us and Noah and the baby."

"And Skittles."

"Obviously Skittles, too," he said, and of course the dog came running into the room.

As the kitchen timer started going off, you tried to slip out of his grasp, but he held on. "Tell me what's bothering you first."

You buried your face against his neck and inhaled deeply. Bradley smelled like home. "I'm a little nervous. I wrote my vows, and now I think they sound stupid."

"Nothing you say could sound stupid to me."

You groaned and added, "And I'm exhausted by eight o'clock every night now, and we have all these people coming over for the wedding. I look tired all the time."

"You're beautiful all the time. And I'll kick everyone out after dinner. I'm not going to want them here after that anyway."

When you laughed, Bradley started walking with you held against him. The kitchen timer was still beeping, and you didn't want dinner to burn, but you didn't want him to let go of you either. "I just want to adopt Noah and have a million more nights like this one," you whispered, still holding Bradley's hand and the coffee as he pulled the meal out of the oven.

You took a sip of your drink and it was delicious, and so were Bradley's words as he told you, "Then that's what you'll get."

So maybe it was kind of a regular night after all. You cut up Noah's dinner into bite size pieces for him, and Bradley was drawing lazy shapes on your pregnant belly with his knuckles while he ate. Then he cleaned up after he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons.

"Mommy, do you remember when we met Mickey? With Aunt Natasha?"

"I sure do," you said with a yawn. "That was the best day." Then Noah yawned, too, and it didn't take much coaxing to get him into his pajamas and into bed.

"Will you lay with me?" he asked as you tucked him in.

"Just for a minute, because I need to finish a few things for the wedding tomorrow."

You climbed into his bed, and the next thing you knew, Bradley was waking you up with a kiss. "Come on, Baby. Let's get in our bed."

You groaned and let him help you stand, and you ran your fingers through Noah's hair. "What time is it? I still need to vacuum and wash the kitchen floor."

"I already did it," he whispered as he led you out of the room.

You yawned. "I wanted to shower and shave my legs."

"Do it tomorrow. Or don't. I don't care."

"But it's our wedding day."

You let him tuck you into bed, and he slipped in next to you. "It is, Baby. Our almost-Christmas wedding since I couldn't wait until next year. And all I need is my exhausted Princess with her hairy legs for it to be fucking perfect."

You stifled your laughter as he curled up behind you, keeping you warm while you dozed off again with his big hand resting on your belly.

----------------------------

When you woke up the next day, Bradley and Noah were already gone. You knew the plan was for them to get ready at Natasha's place while she joined you here to help you with your makeup, but tears stung your eyes as you walked around the empty house. You missed them already, and you wanted them to come back home so you could make Bradley your husband. You decided to take that feeling as a pretty good sign that the wedding was going to be perfect. 

The kitchen smelled good, and you found that Bradley left the fancy coffee maker on for you, but you gasped at what else you found. There was a light blue bakery box, and you opened it to find crown shaped donuts with icing that spelled out I LOVE YOU. You moaned softly and picked up the letter I donut and took a bite. You also found the bag from the jewelry shop, and you immediately remembered how sneaky he was the night you picked out the wedding bands. 

You shoved the rest of the donut into your mouth and dug inside the bag. Your eyes went wide when you pulled out a tiara. An actual tiara with some purple gemstones adorning it, like an upgraded version of your paper crown. Now you really wanted Bradley to come home so he could see it on. He probably spent a fortune on it, like he did everything else for you, but you were already imagining that it might make its way to bed later.

"It's me!"

Natasha's voice pulled you from your wedding night daydream, and you rushed into the living room where she was already wearing a simple blue dress and holding several bags. "How are my boys?" you asked.

"Great. Excited. Noah already looks adorable. I guess Bradley looks okay."

You were cracking up as she wrapped you in a hug, and that's when you realized you were wearing an old TOP GUN sweatshirt and your underwear. "I need to start getting ready."

"Yes," she replied with a smile and a quick kiss on your cheek. 

"And I really need to shave my legs."

"You should do that first."

"Yeah," you replied, laughing as you made your way to the bathroom. "I'll do that first."

Once you were clean from the shower, Natasha helped you into your new set of purple lingerie. You appreciated that she treated it like a business deal, simply saying, "Bradley will lose his mind later," instead of making a big deal about your growing belly. You were sure you'd be marrying him even if you weren't pregnant, but maybe it wouldn't be happening so soon. "Let's get your hair and makeup settled before we get your dress on. Go grab your tiara."

"You know about that?" you gasped, excitement filling you up.

"Please. I know about everything."

-----------------------------

Perhaps you were a little nervous last night, but now Bradley was the one who could barely handle himself. You were inside the house, but he wasn't even allowed to go in there, and it was killing him. He wanted to see you in the worst way and make sure everything was okay, but instead he and Noah were stuck on the back patio as everyone else started arriving. All he managed to get was a text from Nat with a thumbs up emoji.

"You look adorable!" Bradley turned around to see Penny kneeling in front of Noah, making a fuss over him. "You match with your dad!" It was true, because you had been the one to find the light gray suits and floral purple dress shirts. Bradley simply ordered them and got himself and Noah dressed.

He hated to say it, but the wedding wasn't that important to him. Not really. He would have done a big, overpriced ceremony if that's what you said you wanted. But this was fine as well. All he really wanted was to make it official. The Bradshaws. His family. He didn't need anything else.

As Maverick pulled him in for a hug, Bradley saw some more of his friends from work arrive. Not that he'd ever really consider Jake Seresin a friend, but after he took the seven hundred bucks in tip money, Bradley said it was fine if he wanted to stop by. You were with Bradley now, and you were never going anywhere. He'd see to that. He'd had a lot of time to come to terms with how young you are and how guys were always going to be looking and hoping. If Bradley were less confident in himself or your love, he'd have never made it this far. But here he was, waiting for you to walk outside in your wedding dress so he could take the wedding band out of his pocket and slip it on your finger. 

Nat came strolling casually through the back door as Bradley hugged Tracy and Noah played with Amelia. Bradley broke away from his lawyer who congratulated him and assured him that all of the paperwork he needed was in perfect order for today and for the adoption. When he pulled Nat aside and asked, "Is she okay?" he got an eye roll in response. 

"She's great. She ditched you and ran away with another man and his adorable son not five minutes ago." Nat smirked at his deadpan expression and said, "You need to learn how to relax. I was just coming outside to tell you that we're ready to get started, okay?"

"Yes," he replied, already scrambling to locate Noah and Skittles. "Let's fucking do that."

Bradley knew the ceremony was going to be short; you and he had designed it that way. Ten or fifteen minutes, and you'd have it in the bag. It would be a done deal. But when Natasha screamed at everyone to be quiet and Javy started playing the song Bradley asked him to, it all felt very real. The music was just the right volume, flowing through the speakers as Bradley held Noah and Skittles in his arms, and it washed over him when he finally saw you. His favorite song, the one you knew immediately back in your babysitter days, had him remembering the way he fell for you. How you picked on him in the best way about all the old music he loved. The way this song made him think only of you ever since he heard you singing it in his kitchen.

And now you were stepping out of his house wearing a wedding dress and the tiara he picked out for you. Your glossy lips only made your smile brighter as you walked across the deck, purple shoes peeping out from the bottom of your dress. It wasn't a long walk along the path to where he was standing, and he'd remember every step you took for the rest of his life. 

He grunted softly as he noticed the way your dress was snug enough to hug your bump like you were showing it off, allowing everyone to see what he'd done to you. He knew that the bouquet of purple wildflowers you held in one hand smelled as sweet as you always did, and you waved your fingers at him as you got closer. 

"Hi, Daddy," you said with a smile just for him, and he rushed forward a few steps, closing the gap to get to you sooner.

"Princess," he whispered, leaning down to kiss you while Nat balked behind him.

"You're already doing everything out of order!" she said. "The kiss is literally supposed to be the last thing!"

You just laughed and kissed him again before also pressing your lips to Noah's cheek and patting Skittles on her purple bow. "It's okay, Natasha," you told her as you wrapped your free hand around Bradley's bicep and guided him to where she was standing. The song faded away, but you remained next to him as you smiled and said, "It doesn't really matter what order we do this in just as long as I end up married to Bradley."

"Okay, fine," Nat said, opening her notebook in a huff as Bradley set his son and his dog down. Skittles ran off toward Amelia, and Noah stood with his arm around your thigh looking up at you. As you ran your fingers through his son's curls, Bradley leaned in to kiss you again. "Stop kissing. Seriously. Or there won't be a big climax at the end."

The guys all hooted with laughter at what Nat said, including Bradley. "I don't think that will be a problem," you said, lacing your fingers with his.

"It certainly won't be," he whispered. "You gonna keep that tiara on all night?"

You looked a little bashful, but you said, "Of course, I'm a Princess."

When he tried to kiss you again, Nat started snapping her fingers in his face. "Enough. I need to read all of this shit that I wrote down so you can get married, okay? Just stand there for a minute, and keep it in your pants."

You were laughing now as you said, "This is already the best wedding I've ever heard of."

Nat cleared her throat and started reading from her notebook. "Hi everyone. You all know me, and you all know these two idiots who decided they wanted to marry each other, so I'll make this quick. Bradley Bradshaw is my very best friend, and I don't even know why. He's not particularly funny, nor is he the wittiest guy around, and he absolutely can't cook anything."

"Jesus," Bradley said. "Why did I ask you to officiate?"

She chuckled and said, "Because I also have a couple nice things to say about you.... Bradley is a lost cause in many ways, but he's loyal, and he has a cute son. Hi, Noah."

"Hi, Aunt Natasha."

Bradley was shaking his head as you squeezed his hand, and he gave Nat the signal to keep going. "Right, well, here's the other thing about Bradley: he's been there for me for a long time, so any time he needs something, I'm always going to help him. It was easy to see that he was lonely and ready to start dating again at the beginning of this year, and when he said he was falling in love with his babysitter instead of the women he was meeting from the dating app, I told him to go for it. I'd never seen him happier than he was on the days when he got to see you," Nat said, smiling at you.

"Really?" you asked, looking at her before looking up at Bradley in wonder.

"Really," he and Nat said at the same time, and he had to fight the urge to kiss you again. Instead, he ran his fingers along your cheek and didn't take his eyes off you as he asked, "Nat, can I say my vows now?"

You kissed Bradley's thumb as Natasha said, "Clearly you're just going to do whatever you want, so go right ahead."

"Great," he whispered. He had everything he wanted to say written down on a note card in his pocket, but he didn't really need it. With Noah standing in between the two of you, he knew he had everything he needed right here with him. "You still never told me how you did it, Princess."

You looked up at him as he held your hand, a puzzled look on your face. "How I did what?"

He ran his thumb in slow circles along the back of your hand and said, "How you walked into my crumbling life and made everything better."

Your lips twitched as tears filled your eyes, but you were smiling as you said, "There was nothing to fix, really. You and Noah just made me fall in love with you." 

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Noah whispered, tugging gently on your dress as Bradley tried to contain his own tears.

"I know," you told him with a watery laugh. "I made you a snack tray, but you need to let Daddy finish talking first."

"See, Baby? We are pure chaos," Bradley told you, reaching down to scoop Noah up again. "We were so much worse before you, though. Thank you for falling in love with us. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for being more patient than anyone else I've ever known. Thank you for taking care of us, and for letting us take care of you. All I want is to be with you forever. The four of us," he said, his knuckles grazing your belly. "It's perfect, really. But I can't promise we will ever be less chaotic. All I know for sure is that I'm always going to love and appreciate you. And that it was worth going through all the bad stuff to get to this point. You were the missing piece. You were always the missing piece that we needed."

You nearly dropped your bouquet of flowers as you threw your arm around his neck and snuggled in against Noah. "I love you both so much," you sniffed. "And I don't even think you're chaotic at all. Being around you is the calmest I've ever felt. Like I know you'll protect me and make sure I'm comfortable. I started falling in love as soon as I met you both, and I keep falling in love a little bit more all the time. And I will never take this for granted, because I never expected anything this good to happen to me."

"I'm still hungry," Noah whispered loudly, clearly concerned everyone had forgotten about him. 

"I know, sweet Noah," you said as you laughed and cried at the same time. "And I'm going to take care of you forever, okay?"

Bradley watched you kiss his forehead as Noah said, "I got you a coloring book. It's Princesses."

"Of course you did," you told him as your voice cracked. "You're the best." You were crying more now, but you looked so happy. 

Even Nat was wiping at her eyes as she said, "Are we ready for the rings then?" When you both nodded at her, she pulled Bradley's wedding band out of her dress pocket and handed it to you. "Just put them on each other. Oh my God, I didn't think I would cry." 

Javy handed Nat his handkerchief as you took Bradley's hand in your smaller one and slid the thick band into place. Then he kept his eyes on yours as he and Noah did the same with your diamond wedding band. You let your hand slide up Bradley's arm and settle on his chest. Your eyes were focused on his, and the purple gems in your tiara were catching the sunlight. You were flawless. You were his wife. Almost.

"Nat?" he asked, covering your hand with his own and pressing it against his heart. "Are we married?"

"Oh, right," his best friend replied as you laughed softly and bit your glossy lip. "Yeah, according to me and the state of California, you're married. You already kissed and messed that entire part up, but you can kiss again, I suppose."

He handed Noah to her, and your lips came crashing to his as he wrapped one arm around you. This other hand settled against the side of your belly where the baby was growing, and he heard everyone cheering in the backyard. You were right, this was the best wedding he'd ever heard of as well. "I love you, Princess," he murmured against your lips, the sweet smell of wildflowers everywhere as you deepened the kiss again.

Then you pulled away and whispered, "I'll love you forever, Daddy."

------------------------------

With two rings on your finger and your husband standing behind you, kissing your neck to the point of distraction, you tried to pull Noah's tray of ants on logs out of the refrigerator. "Daddy!" you gasped when his hand slid up from your belly to your breasts which did look pretty great in your wedding dress.

"Hmm," he hummed, giving you a little squeeze. When you whimpered softly he made a suggestion that you almost agreed to. "Let's sneak off to our bedroom for a few minutes. I want to play with my wife."

That word made you giddy, and you could feel every inch of Bradley's strong body pressed against yours. When you glanced outside, you saw your handful of wedding guests, dancing and playing with Noah. It was very tempting. Nobody would miss you, but everyone would know where the two of you went and why. "How much longer until you can kick everyone out?" you asked softly. 

You felt him shrug behind you as he said, "The caterers will be here shortly, so probably about two hours before I can demand everyone leaves."

"Damn it," you said, pulling the snacks out of the fridge and unwrapping them. "I just want to take you and a slice of wedding cake to bed." You thought back to Noah's birthday party and the horny kitchen sex with the leftover cake.

"I'll feed it to you, and then I'll fuck you so good," he crooned, and you were about to tell him to send everyone home now when dinner and the cake arrived.

"Mommy!" Noah shouted through the back door, apparently no longer worried about his healthy snack since the sweets arrived. "Come look at the cake I picked out!"

You turned around in Bradley's arms, and he looked delighted to be presented with your baby bump. "You let Noah pick out the wedding cake?"

He winced in response as he ran his hand along your belly. "Yeah... about that. I'm really sorry."

You grabbed his left hand, his wedding band smooth against your skin where his fingers were usually a little rough, and you pulled him back outside with Noah's snack. "I don't know if I should be scared or-" You gasped when you saw it. "Oh my god, Bradley. It's perfect!"

The cake had two tiers. The bottom was decorated with white buttercream and a bunch of green and brown dinosaurs. The detail was amazing. There was even a volcano. The top tier was decorated with purple flowers and topped with a knight holding hands with a princess that looked a lot like you. The two layers looked pretty ridiculous together, but it was beautiful.

"I love it!" you squealed, making sure Amelia took some pictures of it for you. Actually, everyone had been doing a pretty great job of capturing the afternoon on camera. After dinner, when you cut into the cake and fed a bit to Bradley, Nat took a video of you smearing some of the purple icing all over his lips and mustache. He looked startled as you started laughing before kissing him. 

"You'll pay for that later," he promised, holding you close while someone queued up his favorite song again for you both to dance to. But he wasn't complaining when your mouth was on his for most of the song, tasting all of the sweetness on his lips. 

The afternoon was kind of crazy, and Bradley held onto you the whole time, only releasing you so you could dance with Mav and then Javy. And then all it took was one yawn out of you, and your husband was clearing everyone out of the backyard. Noah was all pumped up with too much sugar, but luckily he was going home with Penny and Amelia for the night. And lucky for you, your husband was as sweet as the wedding cake.

"Let me help you out of your dress," he whispered, setting butterflies off in your belly as he carried you inside the kitchen. "And I'll get your tiara out of your hair so you can get some rest."

"But I don't want to rest," you said, licking at a bit of icing that still clung to his mustache. "I want my husband."

He paused in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed as you dragged your fingers through his hair. "Say it again, Baby."

"Husband," you whispered, kissing the prickly stubble on his jaw. "Please?"

Bradley just grunted in response, slid the door shut with his foot, and carried you all the way to bed. Once he had you spread out, you watched him make quick work of removing his suit coat and purple shirt. "Did you pick out this dress on purpose because of the way it shows off your bump?" he asked, kicking off his shoes. "That sounds like the kind of thing my wife would do to make me go insane for her."

"Maybe." You felt silly there in your tiara and high heels, but oh... the way he was looking at you. Bradley climbed into bed where you were being careful not to put your feet on the bedding, but you didn't need to worry for long. He took your ankles in his hands and placed them over his shoulders, stroking his hands up and down your thighs.

"Tell me what you want to do instead of resting, Princess."

The fabric of your dress was bunching up around your hips, and you knew the moment he saw your purple lingerie, because his knuckles connected with your core through the lace as you moaned, "I want my Daddy."

Bradley kissed the inside of your knee and caressed your thigh until you shivered. "Want me to do what?" he crooned, leaning down to kiss your lips. You could still taste the icing from the wedding cake when you ran your tongue along his mustache, and even though you knew what you wanted, you still felt shy asking for it. 

When Bradley reached back to gently take your shoes off and toss them aside, you whimpered his name. He worked the zipper down the side of your dress and helped you shimmy out of it, and then you had your legs spread before him in just your tiara and purple lingerie. He looked sinful in his suit pants with his erection bulging and his wedding band on his finger as he said, "You're my wife. You get anything you want. Especially when you're wearing this."

You coaxed him closer so he was on top of you, and his length was resting on your core as you whispered, "I want you to make me squirt."

He groaned as he got to work like it was absolutely at the top of the list of things he wanted, too. "My pleasure, Mrs. Bradshaw," he murmured against your lips, and you were already clenching as soon as his fingers tucked inside the front of your underwear.

--------------------------

Bradley let you be as loud as you wanted. In fact, he was trying his damndest to get you louder and louder. You were his wife now, and Noah was gone for the night. Skittles seemed to have retreated to the kitchen for some solace as Bradley buried his face in your ass and pussy, legs spread open wide and shaking. 

You cried out, "Daddy," over and over again as he changed his tempo from luxuriously slow to rough and fast. You wanted to squirt? Well he wanted you to soak the fucking bedding until you were crying. Every time he looked up at your face, he saw the swell of your growing belly, and he couldn't stop himself from grinding his cock against the bedding. 

"Fuck," he growled, watching the rings on your fingers as you grasped at the pillow beneath your head. He could tell you were getting close as he brought you to the edge and then let his pace slowly fade away one more time, and when he slipped two gentle fingers inside you while sucking on your clit, you screamed his name. You soaked his face and hand, and he was afraid he was going to cum in his suit pants as your thighs clamped around his head, riding him through your orgasm.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you panted, sitting up in a bit of a daze even as your legs went limp. Your tiara was crooked, and your makeup was smeared, and Bradley couldn't get enough of the sight of his sated, pregnant Princess. Your eyes met his, and you smiled through your daze, sitting there on the wet bedding with your left hand resting on your belly. Meanwhile Bradley was a different kind of mess, trying to get his zipper down and alleviate his aching cock.

"Let me help you," you whispered, putting your hands on his wet ones before taking over for him. "Want me to go down on you?"

Bradley shook his head as you eased his pants and underwear down his legs and took his cock in your hand. "Baby, I want to fuck you. It's our wedding night, and I want to be inside you."

A soft yet determined look settled on your face, and somehow he ended up sitting in the wet spot with you straddling his hips. You didn't seem to care that his forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat and that he wasn't going to last very long. You just sank down around him, rocking gently as he whispered, "I don't want to hurt you. Either of you."

"I know," you replied, kissing him and brushing his hair back from his face. "I know, Daddy." He came with you just like that, your lips and hands gentler on his body than any touch he'd ever known before you. Your voice as soothing as his favorite song. It was no wonder he was so in love with you. It was no wonder he and his son couldn't live without you.

After he got you cleaned up and carefully removed your tiara, you fell asleep in his arms as he reminded you that in a few days, you and he would be finding out the sex of the baby after you adopted Noah.

"You're already the best wife and Mommy. I can't wait for number two."

"I love you."

----------------------------

It's official! Bradley married his babysitter! Noah is on his way to officially having Princess as his Mommy, and we will learn more about the baby so soon! Two parts of this series left! Thanks for reading and interacting and making this so much fun to write! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 62

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@mygyn

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@nessjo

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the younger kind

[beomboomboom]

Liar

genre: fluff, established relationship

pairing: Jeonghan x reader

summary: Most of the time you don't condone Jeonghan's typical lying antics, always quick to call him out for his evil ways. But I guess this time it was an exception.

warnings: none!

note: This was kind of written in a rush of inspiration after I was thinking about how sweet it would be if someone did this for me 😭Enjoy reading <33

"Baby, I can't sleep," you whine while nudging Jeonghan's shoulder gently.

Even though it was in the dead of night, you watch as Jeonghan still groggily smiles at you while his bleary eyes flutter open. His voice still raspy from his sleep, he closes his eyes and ponders for a moment before he sleepily mutters ,"hmmm...how about we watch a movie?"

Jeonghan lets out a fond laugh at the way your eyes immediately shine and an excited smile spreads across your face. But his expression quickly turns confused when a concerned expression crosses your face.

"But...aren't you tired?"

"It's okay, I'm actually not that tired," Jeonghan says while letting out a reassuring smile, already starting to sit up and get out of bed.

"Really? But you were just falling asleep earlier-," you begin to say before Jeonghan shuts you up with a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Really...I'm not tired, let's a watch a movie," Jeonghan repeats, with more conviction in his voice this time. "You can pick which movie," Jeonghan suggests with a smile as he tugs you off the bed and heads towards the living room.

You're stuck on the couch deciding between The Notebook and My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday when Jeonghan re-enters the room, arms full of snacks and blankets.

"Oh-Baby, you didn't have to do all that-"

"But I wanted to," Jeonghan says with a wink and a peck to your cheek as he sets the snacks down and wraps a blanket around the two of you.

"Now, which movie do you want?" you ask with a giddy smile. "The Notebook or My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday"

"hmm...definitely The Notebook," Jeonghan declares after a pause of thought. Wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder, Jeonghan quickly gets comfortable as the movie starts.

It's when Allie and Noah first meet in the movie, when you begin to hear soft snores coming from your shoulder.

"Jeonghan?" you inquire, already knowing that Jeonghan probably is sound asleep at this point.

Turning to look at Jeonghan, you let out a fond laugh at the sight. Jeonghan's black hair falls gracefully across his forehead as he has a serene expression on his face. His face so full of exhaustion but at the same time peace and happiness.

"Liar, you should've told me you were tired," you scold half-jokingly while giving his sleeping figure a peck on the forehead.

Jeonghan was a liar, but he was your liar after all.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day six

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : angst, fluff

length : 4k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3 @kageyasma

a/n : hope you're prepared for a bit of angst, I hope I managed to do it justice because it's definitely the genre I'm least used to, but here we go! enjoy and leave a reblog or a comment and I'll love you forever 🥰💗

•••

day six

I barely slept. One reason was the lingering alcohol in my veins making me so dizzy that closing my eyes seemed like a punishment. The other was the fact that my brain was desperately trying to make sense of everything that had transpired that night. I knew, I was fully aware, that this had been what I’d been wanting in a way. But fantisising about these things and actually going through with them were two entirely different things.

I had kissed Noah. I had kissed Oli. They had kissed each other.

It sounded perfect on paper or in a romance novel that was guaranteed a happy ending, but the more the morning light emerged and hit me through the curtains I’d never closed, the more the reality of it weighed on me. Last night, we had crossed some lines that we’d only been eyeing before. Kissing Oli had felt more intimate than all the stuff we’d gotten up to before. As far as I knew, last night also marked the first time Oli and Noah had gotten that close.

How were we going to behave around each other now? We could go and blame it on the alcohol, but I didn’t think that anyone in this constellation could honestly say that it wouldn’t have happened anyway, at some point in time. The temptation had been lingering between us for days. Maybe longer in some cases.

I turned off the alarm on my phone as it blared through the silent room. It hurt my head. A noisy reminder that life had to go on. That I would have to face both of them, without any idea of how they would react. If they regretted it. If they would pull back now. If everything would change for the worse. Or the worst.

My tired body dragged itself through the motions. Shower. Getting dressed. Packing my stuff. No flattering outfit today, just a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie.

I didn’t meet anyone in the hallway or the lift or the lobby. A few people were already around in the car park, loading in everyone’s stuff, mingling about, smoking another cigarette. I pulled the hood up into my face. I’d avoided the mirror pretty successfully this morning, but I just knew I looked rough. Some people knew I’d been out with Lia last night and they would no doubt love to get some mocking remarks in about my perceived hangover. I didn’t have the nerves for it.

A glimpse of Noah.

My feet immediately stopped dead in their tracks. It shouldn’t have been so surprising, really. Of course, he would be around sooner or later.

He looked just as beat up as I felt. I wished I knew if it was because of the late night or if he’d stayed up wondering too. He looked at me for a second, face paler than I remembered, dark circles appearing under his eyes, and gave me a wave. No smile, no urge to move toward me, no words, just his hand in the air without much conviction.

I waved back, unsure of how to proceed, but someone patted Noah on the back to get his attention. Free from the burning stare, I got onto the bus. I was armed with a few personal things, when I climbed the stairs and made a beeline for my bunk. There was no noise around me. Either everyone was still getting ready or people were being extremely quiet.

The curtain on Oli’s bunk was drawn shut. I tried hard to remember if he’d left it like that the day before or if it was an indication that he was here already, but I came up short. It didn’t matter, in the end. I slipped into my own bunk and closed the curtain. 

Unless Oli decided to go the route of “pretending nothing at all happened”, he probably wouldn’t talk to me anyway. I’d known him long enough. He was the type to battle things on his own for as long as the world allowed him to, before he would talk to anyone or ask for help. I felt like the three of us had that in common. It wasn’t the greatest mix of people when it came to bumps in the road.

I pushed the thoughts away, just like I ignored the slight lump in my throat that I refused to let grow. Picking up my phone from where it had burrowed in my bunk, I took the plunge to check my regular mails again, something I’d been avoiding since getting on this tour. It held the usual disappointments.

A rejection from a job I’d applied for that would have started right after tour.

A mail from my father which got deleted unseen.

Another rejection.

Spam.

An old employer saying they didn’t have any capacities for me any time soon.

More spam.

A mail from my roommate.

The last one took me by surprise, but the content cleared it up immediately. “Got a new phone, lost your number but found your e-mail address on some junk paper in the kitchen. Call me when you can.” With a groan, I put my phone away again. I didn’t know what this was about, but it couldn’t be good. We both weren’t terribly keen on each other, but it was the only place in London I could find that only had one other person living there instead of four, so it seemed like a good deal. I made a mental note to call her later, without much motivation.

Turning on my side, I snuggled into the relatively comfortable bunk. Exhaustion draped itself over me like a heavy blanket. I fell asleep, the hours awake finally catching up with me, and was granted a dreamless few hours.

•••

When I woke up, the curtain to my bunk was disturbed, not closed all the way anymore and I wondered if I’d moved it in my sleep or if someone had come to check up on me. If it was the latter, it was probably someone trying to figure out if I was actually on the bus or if they’d left me in Manchester by mistake. I thought that wouldn’t be all too bad. However, we had arrived in Glasgow, apparently, and there was work to do. With a heavy sigh, I heaved myself out of my quarters. Time to check in to the hotel, check on Oli, get to the venue, soundcheck, the usual.

I found Oli in the hotel lobby, getting his room key. I quickly waved down another receptionist to get my own, only half-heartedly listening to their introduction to the hotel and then legged it after him, only just managing to make it into the lift before the doors closed. I wasn’t going to take silent treatment for an answer. I’d accepted that kind of behaviour more often than I’d like to admit in my life, I wasn’t going to go down that road with Oli.

The doors closed behind me, leaving the two of us in silence. I mustered him, trying to figure out where we were at, where his mind was, how to approach whatever had shifted between us. He didn’t look overly stressed. Or like he hadn’t slept. But I knew he also had a talent to hide it well. My brain was fumbling over what words to choose when he finally looked at me.

Then, without warning or giving me time to prepare, Oli was on me, kissing me hard and fast, and I couldn’t do anything but wrap my arms around him and reciprocate. I helplessly moaned into his mouth, completely at his mercy, and then the lift dinged and both of us flew apart just as the doors opened to our floor.

I stepped out of the lift ahead of him, momentarily confused as to where to go, the sudden kiss having erased all memories of my room number, but Oli passed me by easily, walking into whatever direction I figured was probably the correct one for me too.

“Oli!” I called after him, but he didn’t stop until he was at the door. I watched as he unlocked it and shoved his suitcase in so it would stay open. “Aren’t we going to talk?”

“What about?” I could practically see the shield he had put up. It was a sight that hadn’t greeted me in years, taking me aback and confusing me. Him being distant, hiding away, not letting me in, not letting me see the real him felt like a punishment. But it was exactly what he was doing, hanging about in the middle of the doorframe, an arrogant look on his face that I knew was nothing but a mask. I hated this side of him as much as it worried me.

“Last night? Starting with the fact that we kissed?”

He cocked his eyebrow at me with a smirk, but it wasn’t honest and it wasn’t reassuring. It was annoying. “Yeah, and? We just did again. Ain’t that what we’d been working towards? Having a little snog? Well, there you go.”

I swallowed my anger at the way he was presenting things, twisting what was happening, downplaying it. It took a deep breath to convince me to stay calm. He was doing this to keep himself from being vulnerable, not to be an arsehole, I tried to remind myself. Unfortuantely, it didn’t help that he sounded and looked every bit like a cunt in that moment.

“What about Noah then? Also just a game to you?”

There was a flicker of something on his face, something that was threatening to break through his facade, but he quickly regained his composure.

“What if it is?”

I didn’t have an answer to that, stunned by the audacity. Both of us knew that he was lying, but he was clinging to his version of things so adamantly it made me want to punch his face. I couldn’t tell where I found the strength to keep myself from doing it. Probably the idea of what this whole mess could do to Noah.

I needed to talk to Noah.

“Right, that it?” Oli asked, apparently bored out of his mind. “If you want a quick fuck, you’re welcome to come in. If not, I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

The door fell into the lock before I could respond. Fucking prick. I thought he had learned, in the past years, I really did, but this just proved that he was a stubborn as ever. With a noise of frustration, I harshly stamped my foot into the carpet underneath, just to rid myself of some of the tension. It didn’t work.

•••

Neither Oli nor Noah were anywhere to be found when I got to the venue. My messages to both of them had somehow gone unread, which frustrated me even more. One of them was supposed to be my boss which made my work impossible. The other didn’t seem like the type to not check his phone which was equal parts weird. It wasn’t until someone tipped me off that at least Noah had been seen getting back to his dressing room that I finally had some success.

Well. Technically, I had twice the success because Oli was leaving the room right as I reached it. I was about to ask him what was going on, why wasn’t he answering my mails, did he really have no need for me today, but he simply nodded in recognition and sauntered past me. One problem after the other, I told myself, knocking and letting myself into Noah’s dressing room.

Noah was sitting on the sofa, cross-legged, looking up at me with wide eyes. I let myself fall onto the cushions next to him, utterly exhausted by the day and it wasn’t even showtime. Without a word, Noah put his arm around me, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. The comfort spread through me like a hot cup of tea.

“Are you okay?” I asked simply because I was afraid he would ask me first. “What did Oli want?”

“Just checking if we were okay, I guess,” Noah sighed. I internally scoffed at the fact that he had bothered with Noah but not with me, but I pushed the thought away. “Wanting to make sure I still wanted to Antivist tonight.” He paused for a moment. “Do you know when someone is talking and talking but they’re not actually saying anything? Oli is an expert at that, isn’t he. I have no idea what he thinks about last night. I can’t even pinpoint if I asked.”

“Oli can be all smoke and mirrors and leave you more confused than before you talked to him,” I agreed. “How do you feel about last night?”

I didn’t lift my head. I gave both of us the chance to speak as freely as possible without having to look at each other. The same way the darkness gave you the freedom to reveal your secrets at night when you’re a kid, before you came to regret your honesty the next morning.

Noah’s answer began with a big sigh. “I liked kissing him,” he admitted. “I liked kissing you, too. I liked watching him kiss you. But I’m not…” I allowed him as much time as he needed to find his words. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to get involved… with anyone. I can’t give anyone what they need. I’m away and I don’t talk about my feelings and I’m a terrible partner and-”

I couldn’t help myself as I interrupted his speech, sitting upright and taking his face in my hands to force him to look at me. Even self-doubt looked handsome on him.

“You’re talking about your feelings right now, Noah, and you’re doing just fine.”

His head dropped low, now finding my shoulder as I awkwardly hugged him. The scent of his hair was in my nose and I had to actively stop myself from inhaling loudly. He smelled like comfort, I decided. Noah looked back up as I raked my fingers through his hair.

“What do you want to do now?” I asked, carefully.

“I just know I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

It was all I needed, right then and there. I kissed him with all the intensity, all the desperation, all the need inside of me, all the frustration about Oli, all the feelings I had for him but couldn’t or wouldn’t yet name. His mouth was starting to feel familiar against mine, familiar but never boring in the way it moved, the way he tasted. He held me close, pressing our chests together, my breasts heavy between us, his hands all over me in sweet gestures that still had me burning for more.

Both of us were breathless when we separated, but I couldn’t help peppering a few more kisses to his lips, short and soft but saying it all, until it came to a natural end. The smile on his face, directed solely at me, his brown eyes, so enticing, smiling along, was more than enough.

I didn’t want to stop kissing him either.

•••

Oli kept himself much less approachable. He finally read my message but left me without a reply. I managed to run into him several times before his band’s set, but he more or less sent me away every time, claiming not to need anything at all. Just relax and sit down somewhere, he had told me with a dismissive wave of his hand. He was stubborn, but so was I. The last hour before his stage time, I simply followed him around the arena like a lost puppy, just in case he found a use for me. He didn’t. But I felt stupidly pleased that I didn’t let him get away with whatever game he was trying to play.

Still, I was annoyed and felt the rage simmering inside of me. Oli managed to put on a good show, but I felt like his mind wasn’t quite in the right place. Mine wasn’t either. I quickly spoke to Bring Me’s tour manager when I caught him at the side of the stage, purely to let someone know, before going the long way round and finding myself on the arena floor among the fans. I had been a fan myself, long before I’d been working on tours, and that hadn’t changed, no matter how many I went on. I knew that being in a crowd, surrounding by people, screaming the lyrics and moving to the music, would help me clear my head like nothing else could. Besides, it felt about time I got to witness their show from the perspective of the audience, the very people everything from the setlist to the production to the sound design had been specifically made for.

I squeezed myself into the middle of the crowd, made easier by the amount of movement around me, and took a deep breath that was unfortunately filled with the sweat of people who never learned to use deodorant. It made me move a little further, just until the air was slightly more breathable. And then it felt like home.

I wasn’t Aubrey, personal assistant to Oli anymore and he wasn’t Oli, decade-long friend that turned into the most stubborn person on the planet when faced with his vulnerability anymore. I was nothing more than a fan enjoying the music of one of her favourite bands and getting positively lost in the experience. So I went crazy for Diamonds Aren’t Forever and Parasite Eve, kept my eyes on the screens for Antivist just to catch a glimpse of Noah, getting closer to the front of the stage through a number of moshpits, fought hard not to get emotional for Drown.

The fact that Can You Feel My Heart followed didn’t help. The words travelled through my body, taking hold of me, and I was sure I’d never quite felt them the way I did right then and there. And then…

And then Oli didn’t do the speech. His cheesy ass speech he did in the middle of the song, that he constantly joked about backstage but that I knew was so important to him. And he didn’t do it. Could he not bring himself to say the words? Was he too scared to be vulnerable tonight? Could he not bear the thought of baring his soul like that? Had I made it worse?

I hate to get close, and I hate being alone, I long for that feeling to not feel at all…

The world seemed to close in on me. Oli was being a dickhead, yes, but had I pushed him too far? Had I played his stupid game without taking into account that I knew how much he struggled with allowing that type of intimacy? I had been so preoccupied with my own need for him that I didn’t stop to think if I should check up on him instead of teasing him further and further, allowing him to escalate our friendship into something that could be beyond repair. My head was spinning so hard it made me feel dizzy.

I didn’t notice the moshpit opening up around me until someone crashed into my body, sending me flying to the floor. Someone’s hands were on me, possibly multiple, getting me back on my feet, checking on me. I felt something wet on my face but didn’t think to check, people were shouting at each other over the music, coming to an agreement that someone should get up and crowdsurf to the front where they would get help quicker. Me. They were talking about me. Something dripped onto my eyelid and I wiped it away in annoyance as I got lifted up. Blood? The crowd carried me easily. The song was almost over when a security guard caught me and I briefly looked up to see Oli staring down at me, worried. I wasn’t sure why.

Next thing I knew, I was backstage again, a medic shining a light in my eyes which was awfully annoying, Oli and Noah crouching next to me, being asked questions that were easily answered.

“She’s okay, she probably got a slight concussion, but that will be fine by tomorrow. The cut on her eyebrow is minimal and doesn’t need stitches, it just looks bad because it bled, but that’s stopped which means it’s not too deep. Just make sure it’s kept clean and it should heal just fine.”

“You okay?” Oli asked, carefully grazing his fingertips over my cheek. Awfully soft, really. “I need to get back on stage, but Noah will take you to the dressing room and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’m fine,” I hissed, still high on adrenaline but slowly catching up with what was happening around me. “You don’t need to suddenly care again just because I got injured.”

I could see that my words had hurt him but I didn’t care. Even if my heart pounded heavily. I allowed Noah to help me up and lead me to Oli’s dressing room where he sat me down on the sofa and inspected my wound.

“Do I look sexy all bloody?”

The laugh erupted from his throat out of nowhere. “The medic cleaned you up, but sure, very sexy.”

Silence settled over us as I leaned against his side. The exhaustion of the whole day was washing over me and I was suddenly glad for a little peace and quiet. Neither of us spoke again, simply enjoying the physical contact, until it got louder again from outside the door and we knew the concert had ended.

“Done with your ego trip, then?” I asked as Oli entered the room. He had the decency to look ashamed which I thought was a step forward.

“Never,” he mumbled, but there was no malice in his voice. I raised my eyebrow at him, which shot a dose of pain through my head. My wince softened him immediately. Idiot. “I’m sorry you got hurt. That shouldn’t have happened.”

I genuinely couldn’t tell if he was talking about my mosh pit incident or…

“I guess some people just need to be a little more careful with those around them. Just because they didn’t mean to doesn’t mean other people don’t end up with a headache.”

“You know, some people try very hard, but they’re also very slow learners.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor here that’s flying right over my head,” Noah interrupted and I couldn’t help but laugh, pressing a short kiss to his temple. Poor Noah, having no idea what he was getting dragged into with Oli and me, but taking it in his stride that neither of us was willing to let him go unless he genuinely asked for it.

I reached my hand out to Oli, deciding to be the bigger person despite knowing that it wasn’t on me to make that first step, but I was impatient and Oli would take forever to be brave enough to come crawling back. “I’m not saying this is over or that we don’t have things to talk about, but as long as you stop pretending to be this cruel and heartless version of you, you’re allowed back into the cuddle pile.”

Oli didn’t take my hand immediately, but looked at Noah, as if checking in with him if he was of the same opinion. I decided to give him credit for it. Noah nodded and in an instant, Oli had draped himself over both our laps, hot to the touch and rather sweaty. The tension between the three of us hadn’t vanished, but it had lessened. Questions remained unanswered and discussions were still to be had but maybe Oli wasn’t the only one reluctant to dive into the deep end.

He mouthed sorry, Aubrey at me and I hated the way my heart melted and my resolve slipped. Then Noah softly stroked his hair and I was sure that some other hearts in this room were melting just the same. I couldn’t help it. I was in love with the mess we were creating.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

[avvail-whumps]

The Facility: Complete Masterlist

Synopsis: Noah works as one of the scientists at an underground facility secretly funded by the government. They store prisoners of war, using them, hurting them, torturing them, and Noah has to turn a blind eye to the horrible pain they endure, as well as be complicit. When a mass breakout happens, Noah’s patient comes to pay him a little visit.

General content and warnings: whumpee turned whumper, medical whump, kidnapping, captivity, interogations, graphic violence, torture, sadistic whumper, mass prison breakout, minor character deaths, eye gore

A Brief Guide To The Facility

PRE-BREAKOUT

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold

THE BREAKOUT

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned:

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity

POST-BREAKOUT

Asks and Answers

Questions:

What Makes People Join The Facility?

Update Schedule

Main Tag List – @suspicious-whumping-egg @sunshiline-writes @rabidrabidme @whumpatize-me-captain @thegirlwholived1213 @reverie1234 @unforgiven235 @morning-star-whump @seaweed-is-cool @d-cs @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-me @gala1981 @pirefyrelight @whumpterful-beeeeee @miss-unicorn0907 @avidrambling @anoontjecanush @2in1whump @ha-ha-one @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @whatwhump @sowhumpful @whump321 @alexmundaythrufriday @sacredwrath

#the facility #whump #masterlist #noah and cash #wip #dividers by cafekitsune

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @halloweenaesthetic

A/N: hi hello I'm so sorry that I haven't updated this in a million years. I lost steam for it, but I thiiink I might have gotten the gears turning again. I hope y'all enjoy and don't hate me too much 🤭

Charles DeSimone has been wanted for quite some time under suspicion of murdering his wife and two children.

My blood ran cold and I swear my heart stopped beating the second those words registered in my head. I didn't know how to respond as I stared at Officer DeCecca; I simply waited to see if he would take his statement back. He had to have been kidding.

I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat that suddenly felt like sandpaper. "What?" I croaked. "This was a case that went cold a few years back," Detective Garcia spoke this time. "We couldn't gather enough evidence to convict him—he was one calculated, sly motherfucker. Always had an alibi, his home was always pristine when we asked to search it. It was like his wife and kids simply disappeared without a trace."

All I could do was blink as I mulled over his words. How could Charles possibly cover that up so well? How was his family never found?

"Where do we go from here?" Noah asks when I remained silent. DeCecca clears his throat quietly. "Well, right now, you two need to focus on getting back into good health. Especially you, Amelia." "So, you're just gonna leave us with that? No other information?" Noah questions, aggravation in his tone. The officer huffs, "We don't have much to give you at the moment. We have a team searching his property, and we will give you more details as it comes."

I watched Noah's jaw tick. He was angry, and I knew he wasn't satisfied with that answer, but we just had to accept it for now. They can't tell us what they don't know.

The officers leave, but I still don't say a word. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do with the little information that we got. It was confirmation of the fact that Noah and I were going to die there if we hadn't escaped. We were so close to death—in Death's hand all because some schizophrenic man saw me while we were out innocently grabbing kerosene and thought I was his wife.

His wife that he had murdered.

I flinched when someone puts their hand on my shoulder, letting out a quick yelp before pushing it off immediately. "Shit, sorry, Meels. I didn't mean to startle you." It was Nick. "Looked like we lost you for a second there. You okay?" I scrubbed my hands down my face and sighed heavily, shaking my head. "It's just...a lot to take in," I mumbled. "I know," he cautiously puts his hand on my back this time, rubbing slow circles to help soothe me. "We'll be here for you through all of this, though. You know that, right?"

I nodded, lying back against my pillow and shutting my eyes. I just wanted to sleep; I didn't want to think about any of this. I didn't want to see the sorrow or the sympathy on everyone's faces while I lie here confined to a hospital bed.

My life was flipped upside down and turned into a living nightmare just from going to a hardware store one afternoon, and I wished that everything would go back to the way it was 6 weeks ago.

But there was no going back, only forward, and I was terrified of what my future held.

-

I was running. I didn't know where I was running, but I knew I had to keep going no matter how tired my legs grew. I just had to get away.

I looked over my shoulder; there's a decrepit house behind me, and something is telling me I need to be as far away from it as possible. I can hear the paneling moaning as the body flexes, the house calling for me to come back, and the back door swings wide open. My heart rate triples as alarm settles in, and I kept on running, looking forward again.

The woods in front of me are dark and grim, foreboding even, but it felt safer than the building I was running from. The shadows swallow me whole, the decaying trees creaking as their limbs begin to lock into one another, gating me in. Yet I still felt a sense of security now that I can't physically see the house.

There's a beacon of light up ahead, and I knew that I had to get to it. I knew that that was where my safe haven was. My legs picked up in speed while a smile breaks out across my face, happy that I discovered my solace. The light grows brighter; I threw my hand out, only fingertips away from it.

I suddenly can't breathe, and I'm writhing on the ground in agony from how hard I fell. My face hurts, but it's not bleeding when I touch it. My leg is bleeding, though—I can feel the warmth trickling down my ankle as fire licked across my skin.

There’s a bear trap biting into my leg, and I can’t do anything but scream in agony. The jaws were painted crimson, my blood pouring out in ribbons, flooding around me. I’m panicking, trying to release its hold on me, but I can’t focus. I can’t breathe. All I can do is scream and cry.

Leaves crunch in front of me, the beacon is now shining right in my eye. There’s a figure behind the light—it’s a flashlight. I can’t see the figure, but it’s menacing as it crouches in front of me. My heart is beating out of my chest when a gloved hand reaches out, and I knew that this was my demise.

“No! Get the fuck away from me!” I hollered, shoving that menacing figure away from me. They fall to the ground in a heap, bringing something down with them in a loud crash. My eyes fly open, and I’m not in the woods anymore. I’m in the hospital bed that I’ve been lying in for weeks now, and I know that I’ve pushed a nurse to the ground for the umpteenth time.

“I’m so sorry,” I cry out, burying my face in my hands. I hated this. I felt like a menace myself every time I woke up from the nightmare that keeps plaguing me, because I always end up hurting someone. I don’t mean to, though, and it was humiliating having no control over my actions.

The nurse picks herself up, rubbing her elbow with a sympathetic grin. She tells me it’s okay, but I know it’s not. I hurt her again when she was only trying to do her job. I just wanted the medication to make the nightmares stop once and for all, so that I could stop hurting people around me. Thank God they won't let Leora see me unless I'm already conscious; I don't think I could live with myself if I ever did that to her.

She takes care of the dressings on my leg, changing them out for new ones, and takes my vitals after putting the brace back on my leg. Other than my outburst, everything seemed okay with me. My incision from surgery was healing well, and they think I'll be able to be discharged within the next week or two.

I was both relieved and scared to go home—it was going to be a huge adjustment for both me and my family, physically and mentally. They would be helping me with simple, mundane tasks until the physical therapist deemed I was strong enough to do them on my own. They would have to deal with the nightmares indefinitely, who knows how long they'll continue to occur. It could be years before they stop, or they may not even stop.

Breakfast was wheeled in, and my nurse left shortly after. I wasn't excited for the bland scrambled eggs, chewy bacon, and scorched toast, but my stomach growls once I got a whiff of it. I readjusted the bed so I'm sitting up, snagging a piece of bacon and nibbling on it just as there's a knock at the doorway.

I flashed a small smile at Noah when he makes his way in, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his new jeans. He pulls the chair up beside me and plops down in it with a tired sigh, stretching his legs out. "Want some breakfast?" I offer him a piece of bacon, giggling at the face he pulls. "I'm good, thanks. I've had my fill of hospital food," he chuckles, waving me off. "How are you doing?"

Noah had been discharged only a few days after we were admitted since his injuries were so minor, the main concern being dehydration. And even though he didn't have to, he'd occasionally make his way up to visit me. I don't know if it was guilt that he was able to leave while I wasn't, or maybe he knew deep down that I was petrified of being alone. Either way, it gave me some sort of comfort and I was grateful for it, especially since my family didn't always have the time to visit.

I sighed, putting my piece of bacon back on the plate. "I'm okay. Had another nightmare," I tell him dejectedly. "The same one from before?" I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. "The same one. It's always the same one," I mumbled, bringing my hands to my lap and picking at my nails blindly. My heart starts to accelerate as the images flash behind my eyelids, my breathing quick and shallow with panic.

He puts a hand on top of mine, halting my actions. "I'm sorry, Meels," he says quietly, his thumb delicately brushing against the top of my wrist. "Breathe, you're not there anymore. You're safe." My head hurts; there's a loud whooshing in my ears, and I realize that I stopped breathing. I take a staggering breath in, trying to concentrate on the warmth of his hand and the pattern he was soothing into my skin.

I'm not there anymore. I'm safe. Charles is long gone and can't hurt me.

The bed dips as Noah sits beside me, cradling my head against his chest, his other arm wrapping around me. I lean into him, the new position moving my leg in an uncomfortable way, but I didn't care. I needed the comfort, the security, and right now I felt the safest with him. After all, he did what he could to protect me; he was the one who got me out of that prison.

"Before I left to come up here, Leora wanted me to tell you that she loves you," Noah tells me quietly. "And that she can't wait for you to come home." I let out a saddened laugh, muffled by his shirt. "Did she really?" "Mhm," he gives me a reassuring squeeze, and my heart rate starts to settle. "She was super bummed that she had to go to school and couldn't come with me, but I told her she'll get to see you soon." Tears spring to my eyes, saddened to know that my little girl was dying to see me, but it was also heartwarming to know that she was eager for me to come home.

I sat up and wiped under my lash line to dry the tears threatening to spill, taking in the warmth of Noah's expression. His chocolate eyes were docile as they bounced between mine, his lips curled into a gentle smile, and there's a flutter in my belly from it.

"You two getting along?" I mused, trying to push that foreign feeling aside. He nods, his smile turning into a bashful smirk. "Yeah, I think so. Took a few days, but her Uncle Nick finally got her to warm up to me." I snort, "Good, I'm glad." "Me, too. She's a good kid." I grin, "Yeah, she's great." "Well, she's got a great mom to look up to. She did a great job raising her," he chuckles, and my cheeks warm at his compliment. All I could do was let out a breathy laugh, thanking him quietly while averting my attention back to my breakfast in hopes he wouldn't notice my blush.

I couldn't begin to explain the relief or the elation that buzzed through my body, knowing that Leora was getting along with the man she wasn't even aware was her father. I just hoped that it would stay that way.

|Chapter 15|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #fanfic writing #the three of us #enemies to lovers #second chance romance #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens

[walkswithmyfather]

Hebrews 11:1-7 (NASB). “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the men of old gained approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things which are visible. By faith Abel offered to God a better sacrifice than Cain, through which he obtained the testimony that he was righteous, God testifying about his gifts, and through faith, though he is dead, he still speaks. By faith Enoch was taken up so that he would not see death; AND HE WAS NOT FOUND BECAUSE GOD TOOK HIM UP; for he obtained the witness that before his being taken up he was pleasing to God. And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him. By faith Noah, being warned by God about things not yet seen, in reverence prepared an ark for the salvation of his household, by which he condemned the world, and became an heir of the righteousness which is according to faith.”

“Trust in God” By In Touch Ministries:

“Faith lets us lose our fear and trust God for the impossible.”

“Faith isn’t a passive belief. It’s an active confidence that stirs within our soul—an unwavering trust in God’s promises and a firm conviction about His trustworthiness. When we’re surrounded by uncertainty, our faith guides us and illuminates the path.

Verse 1 of today’s passage says, “Now faith is the certainty of things hoped for, a proof of things not seen.” Those words can be viewed as an encouraging invitation to dwell in trust, which steadies the heart and anchors the soul. They’re also a reminder that our hope rests in a loving and sovereign God.

In times of trials and challenges, faith becomes our refuge, whispering, “Don’t be afraid, for God is with you.” It motivates us to step out in obedience, even if doing so seems impossible. And it empowers us to face adversity with courage, knowing that God is working all things together for our good.

The Lord calls us to walk by faith (2 Corinthians 5:7) and surrender our doubts and fears to Him. He wants us to believe His promises, even when circumstances seem bleak; trusting in Him lets us see beyond the visible to the eternal. Then we will find strength, peace, and the presence of our loving God guiding us every step of the way.”

[Photo by Jeremy Thomas at Unsplash]

#hebrews 11:1-7 #trust in god #trusting god #tests and trials #god loves you #bible verses #bible truths #bible scriptures #bible quotes #bible study #studying the bible #the word of god #christian devotionals #daily devotions #bible #christian blog #god #belief in god #faith in god #jesus #belief in jesus #faith in jesus #christian prayer #christian life #christian living #christian faith #christian inspiration #christian encouragement #christian motivation #christianity

[mykingdomforapen]

What I adore about Jantje’s writing which shapes the narrative of Dark and I hope will be true for 1899 is that there are no evil villains in her stories. That is to say, all the characters are powerfully, tragically, sometimes horrifically motivated by love. (spoilers for Dark and 1899 ahoy)

In Dark, off the bat in season 1, we’re introduced to so many different complicated characters, with secrets and troubled pasts and choices that do more harm than good. What stood out to me is that as s1 built up, scenes would hint that Peter, Helge, Tronte, Aleksander were very suspiciously framed to be culpable for the missing boys. That they had nefarious intentions or ties to the boys’ murders. To the point where I felt very uncomfortable whenever scenes included them, because I thought that they were hiding something dark and evil.

Then, as the show progresses, you find out:

Peter had never harmed the boys. On the day of Mikkel’s disappearance, he was trying to keep a promise to his wife, discovered Mads’ body, and tearfully called Tronte because that is his son and his boy and no tragedy like that should have to be borne alone.

Tronte had nothing to do with the boys’ deaths. He was weeping over his missing, now confirmed dead, son from thirty-three years past, and was now tasked to keep that a secret.

Helge did have something to do with the boys’ disappearances, but he had been so deeply traumatized that he was made vulnerable and manipulated by the only tenderness he really knew. His old (present) self was, in fact, trying to stop his past self from continuing the acts, and died attempting it.

Aleksander had secrets, but I don’t even need to explain in depth how tender he is, how his love and protectiveness of Regina is what defines his character first and foremost.

And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. We haven’t even gotten to Noah and Adam yet.

Noah was terrifying in s1. I was so scared every time he showed up on screen. He was very obviously embedded into the darkness of Winden, responsible for the disappearances and deaths and manipulations. He was straight up frightening.

Then in s2 and s3, you find out he is a pawn in someone else’s larger game. That he has been trying to find and protect his daughter this whole time, searching through time and space for his missing Charlotte and willing to tangle time for her. That he tenderly and wholeheartedly loved Elisabeth, and died trying to stand up to Adam for his girls.

And Adam--Adam was our beloved Jonas this entire time. Our sweet, haunted, beloved Jonas. And Adam wasn’t doing this to be evil. He became corrupted, obsessed, manipulative, but he was and still is our Jonas. And in the end, he rested his forehead against Eva’s and faded from reality.

All of the characters in Dark were culpable in some way, but they were also entrenched and moved and shaped by love, some in more horrifying ways than others. Colloquially speaking, every baddie is a saddie, and that sort of story is so moving and heartrendering. I know a lot of people don’t like Hannah Kahnwald (I personally love her), and however way you feel about her, you can’t deny that she loved her Jonas, despite her own failings in it, and that is irrevocably sealed in the closing shot of Dark--Jonas is gone, but his mother loves him.

I truly hope the same will be for 1899, and I can see it playing out already. Many of the characters we meet--Ling Yi, Ramiro, Tove, Krester, arguably Olek, etc.--have secretly killed or hurt someone and it haunts them, and they are also frightened, tender, moved and motivated by love for family or friend. The first mate, who seems like a classic thug character for starting a mutiny, sacrifices himself to save Tove. Iben is harsh and likely unwell, but she sobs her son’s name and drowns embracing her husband who sacrificed his life and his convictions to stay by her side. Henry, however disdainfully, said it himself: every simulation the test subjects fail because they choose love over reason. Right now, we don’t know what are the intentions of Henry or Ciaran, a lot of characters are ambiguous or mysterious and anyone who has boarded Jantje and Bo’s storytelling before know that we can never truly predict how a story may go, and that our suspicions rarely pan out.

But I think, and hope, one storytelling element that shaped Jantje and Bo’s storytelling will carry over truly into 1899: everyone--however antagonistic or manipulative or tormented by ulterior motives--everyone loves.

#1899 netflix #dark netflix #1899 spoilers

[poppy-in-the-woods]

My Ride or Die - Part 2

Plot: Noah is your husband. Five years ago, he killed a man that was attacking you. The judge ruled that, since he shot him several times after he already had been stabbed by you, it was no longer self-defense. He got twenty years, and that was two and a half years ago. After the conjugal visit for his birthday, you visit him, bringing food and other presents to help him keep warm on cold nights.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 2601

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: fluff, bit of angst, convict!Noah, masturbation, mentions of suggestive pictures.

Author’s note: betaed by the amazing @rottingfern. Sorry for the long wait, but you know, life gets in the way of writing sometimes, and I wanted to polish this one as much as I could. Let me know how I did, and hope you enjoy.

It had been exactly a week since you last saw Noah. You definitely needed a bit more recovery before thinking about having wild sex again, the ache between your legs still dully moaning, but you two were happy to see each other nonetheless.

The room was busy with spouses and kids that came to visit other inmates. Noah sat alone as he waited for you, but he quickly rose up when he saw you approaching. You greeted him with a quick hug and a peck on the lips and sat in front of him, putting the bag you were carrying on the bench beside you.

“How are you, my love?” you asked.

“Not bad. Better than most days now that you are here,” he said.

“I brought you some presents,” you said, taking the items out of the bag. “Here’s your sandwich,” you began, pushing it to him. He unwrapped it with an excited smile and began scarfing it down. “Slow down, honey, or it’s gonna hurt your stomach,” you told him.

“Sorry,” he said, chewing slower.

“I also brought you some extra underwear and socks,” you continued, putting the paper bag on the table.

“Nice!”

“The shampoo and deodorant you like…” you listed, taking them out of the bag too and placing them beside the underwear, “and a belated birthday present!” you announced, handing him the wrapped package.

“They let you bring that without opening it first?” he asked, skeptical.

“I told them it was a present, so they did me a favor” you told him, shrugging it off like it was nothing. You knew the schedule of the guard who had a soft spot for you and you fully took advantage of that, though you’d never tell that to Noah. “They ran it through the X-ray machine, with the rest of the stuff,” you assured him.

“No metal file or spoon hidden, then,” he joked.

“No, sorry,” you replied, chuckling as he finished unwrapping the book: it was a hardback copy of High Magick (A Guide to The Spiritual Practices That Saved My Life on Death Row), by Damien Echols. “Don’t take off the plastic just yet,” you whispered. He nodded. “I am sure you will find it a very interesting reading,” you added, in a normal tone.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hands and quickly kissing your knuckles.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, letting go of your hands before the guard could decide that it was too much physical contact and end the visit early.

“How’s it going with that newbie? Did he bother you again?” you asked, trying to make some small talk.

“Nah. It’s all good now, he learned his place,” he replied, finishing the sandwich. He let you clean his mouth with the paper napkin.

“Good.”

“I received your letter yesterday, by the way” he told you.

“They took their sweet time reading it, didn’t they?” you fumed.

“I’m sure the warden loves your prose, and the poems. I certainly do,” he said. “I especially loved the lines that said ‘My heart is a bird/ that every night takes flight/ to you and guards your sleep’, and ‘I dream of your hands around my waist, / your breath on my neck, / your heat inside mine, / and our hearts beating in sync’”.

“I wasn’t too inspired with the rhymes in that last one,” you said, grimacing.

As much as you didn’t feel any embarrassment for the words you wrote to Noah, you didn’t want them repeated to you. Creative writing was an outlet your therapist recommended, as were the dabbles in poetry, but you didn’t fancy yourself a poet. Noah was the poet and the musician, not you.

“By the way, do you need another notebook?” you asked.

You had given him a pretty notebook when he entered prison so he could annotate whatever he wanted, and you knew he had been using it as a sort of journal and to write his lyrics and compose his music. A month before the anniversary of his first year locked up, he had requested a new one. You had bought one with more pages that time. He was on notebook number three now.

“No, I still haven’t filled the last one. I will tell you when I need a new one, but thanks for asking,” he said, smiling. “How are you, baby? How are things at work?”

“I’m fine. Before I forget, I have a new manager now, a lady in her fifties - the old one was fired because Shelly reported him to HR for attempted grooming,” you explained. Shelly was your only underage coworker, a sixteen-year-old girl who was still in high-school. “Anyway, the new one is very nice, and upon learning about you, she told me she has a son in prison.”

“In here?” he asked.

“No, he’s in another facility. He committed tax evasion and had a money laundering scheme going on. He got mixed with the wrong crowd, apparently,” you informed him. “They don’t see each other that much, but she writes him letters every week. She told the whole team that my visitation days are sacred and that if anyone needs a change of schedule, to try anyone else, because I am not available,” you finished smiling.

“I already like her,” he said, containing a laugh.

“She also said you were very handsome ‘despite all that ink’”, you told him, marking the quotations in the air. “She’s kind of old-fashioned regarding tattoos.”

“Tell her I said thank you for the compliment,” he replied. “And that I don’t take offense to her not liking my tattoos.”

“Will do!”

“I have something for you,” he said, taking a square envelope from under his ass. “I recorded it with the boys. I want you to be the first to listen to it,” he said, as you took the CD out of the envelope. You smiled, looking at the title and all the signatures.

“I feel honored, honestly,” you said, immediately putting it in your purse. “I’ll listen to it tonight, though it might take me a while to write an in-depth review.”

“Don’t worry about that, we can wait. The boys send their regards, by the way,” he said.

“Tell them I said hi back. I’m so happy you made friends here! And Nick… well, I am not happy that he is in prison too, but… at least you already had a friend the day you arrived, you know?” you said.

“I was relieved to see a familiar face the first day, I’m not gonna lie,” Noah admitted.

“By the way, I spoke with the lawyer…” you began.

“No,” he snapped, cutting you off.

“But I would just spend two years, and your sentence would be reduced -” you began.

He grabbed your wrists.

“Look at me: we already talked about this, and I won’t let you spend a single day behind bars. I fired the gun, I take the blame,” he said, holding your gaze intently.

“But…” you tried to argue. While you recognized and were grateful for his sacrifice, you didn’t want him to spend so much time behind bars. You thought you were strong enough to endure two years if that meant he got to be free earlier. Why wouldn’t he let you do that for him? You loved him just as he loved you; why shouldn’t you sacrifice in return?

“No buts,” he said, putting a finger over your lips. “I heard what the guards do to the female inmates in prison and I won’t let you go through that to shave five years off my sentence,” he said, finally releasing your hands. “End of discussion.”

 “Okay. I love you so much, Noah!” you said after a pause, on the verge of tears.

 “I love you too, baby. Now, don’t cry! You know I hate to see that here,” he said, and you knew he was right: the crying was best reserved for when no one could see, because any sign of weakness on your part could reflect badly on him. You took a deep breath and smiled at him. “That’s better. Do you have an appointment with your therapist this week?”

“Yeah, this afternoon,” you nodded. You had taken notes to talk to your therapist about his response to your proposal, whatever his response would be, though you didn’t expect him to agree, honestly.

“Good. Tell her I enjoyed the books she recommended.”

“That one is also a recommendation from her,” you said, lightly tapping the Damien Echols book. “The extra material is all my idea, though,” you whispered. He arched an eyebrow, questioningly. “You’ll see.”

Not long after, you had to end the visit. With another quick hug and light peck on the lips, you said goodbye to him. On the way back home, you put the CD in the player of your car and listened to it. The lyrics were so beautiful and his voice sounded so clear, like he was beside you, that you had to pull over to the side of the road for a couple of minutes while you let the tears finally flow.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a voice asked. You lifted your gaze to find a police officer standing by the side of your car. You rolled down the window and stopped the music. “Are you injured?”

“No, sir, I am fine. I just got emotional and… I needed a moment.”

“I see. What was that band, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh! That was Bad Omens; it’s my husband’s band. They’re on Spotify, I think.”

“They sound good, I’ll give them a listen. If you are better now, I suggest you go on your way,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

Every lawyer you ever spoke to always told you the same thing: if you’re ever stopped by a police officer, be polite and don’t let them know you have a spouse in prison, because they will look at you differently and there’s a chance they won’t be nice to you upon learning that fact.

You continued your way and arrived home in time to prepare a meal for yourself, feed the cat and go to your therapist appointment.

Meanwhile, Noah was in his cell, unwrapping the book from its plastic. He noticed an envelope taped to the back cover. He opened it to find several pictures. Eight of them were of you, recreating some pin-up posters; hot, but nothing that could be considered pornographic. The ninth, tenth and eleventh were more risqué, something that could be classified as artistic nudes, but the twelfth…

He took the picture number 12 in his hands, looking at it closely. It was a close up of your nude chest, focusing on the tattoo over your sternum. Your nipples were not in frame, but he knew your breasts far too well, so he was able to complete that image mentally.

He carefully picked up the other photographs and put them back in the envelope. He then taped this one to the metal frame of the bunk bed above him and slid a hand in his pants. His mind was already racing, conjuring the image of you naked beside him, kissing him and touching him with light fingers.

“This one’s for you, baby” he muttered, stroking his cock.

Not shortly after he was finished, Nick leaned into the cell.

“Dude, what are you doing? We’re waiting for you in the music room!” he said.

“What?”

“Did you forget we scheduled a rehearsal for today?” Nick asked, entering the cell.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Were you reading?” Nick asked, seeing the book next to Noah. “Is it any good?” he wanted to know, picking it up.

“Give it back!”

But it was too late: Nick had already seen the envelope and was inspecting its content.

“Oh, I see! You weren’t reading, you were jerking off in her honor” he laughed. “To be fair, I also do it in her honor sometimes,” he joked.

“Not funny, bro! Not funny.” Noah replied, snatching the book from him. “It’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Sorry. Is something wrong between you two?” Nick asked, suddenly serious.

“No. She tried to bring up the appeal, thinks she should take part of the blame,” he said. “I told her she can forget about it, and I hope this time she listens. I understand where she comes from, but I love her far too much to let her do it.”

“And she loves you far too much not to try to convince you,” Nick pointed out.

“I guess so…”

“She does. I mean, she risked flirting with the guy at the entrance to bring you this, didn’t she?” Nick said, pointing at the book.

“What do you mean?”

“Rumor says that if you don’t want something to be too closely inspected, you compliment the guard at the entrance. Works like a charm if you’re a pretty woman, or at least that’s what my cousin said,” Nick told him. “Those pictures? They would probably be considered porn and confiscated. She’s a criminal mastermind, dude.”

“Yeah, sure,” Noah said, amused, but his laughter quickly died on his lips, as the implications of what Nick just told him sank in: you had taken too many risks for him and his pleasure, more than he was comfortable with. He sighed; his beautiful, smart and reckless wife! What was he going to do with you? “You will get out before me. Would you keep an eye on her for me?”

“Sure, dude. She’s my friend too, you know?”

Noah knew you also corresponded with Nick and talked to him on the phone. Past benders aside, you two were close enough for Nick to call you a friend. Knowing his friend, Nick was likely the one to suggest the fiery red lingerie to her as a birthday surprise, and if his suspicion was correct, Noah was very grateful to him.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me yet. We’re still both in this shithole, so maybe we could go to the music room now and rehearse?”

“Sure.”

That Saturday, while you were watching a movie, your phone rang. It was a collect call from jail, which you quickly accepted.

“Hey, baby!” Noah’s voice greeted you through the line.

“Hi! How are you? Is everything okay?” you asked, straightening yourself up on the couch. He didn’t seem distraught, but he was in jail after all, you could never be sure.

“Everything is as okay as it can be. I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “Oh, I have begun with your present. You were right, it’s a very interesting reading.”

“Did you enjoy the extras?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah! Thank you, baby.”

“By the way, I almost finished analyzing the record,” you told him. “I have the last two songs left and the conclusions, and I will have a full review, song by song.”

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he said.

“I know, but I like doing it, and I like to think that my reviews are useful for you guys, you know? To have a listener’s perspective,” you replied.

“Of course they are useful!” he assured you. “I just say it’s not an obligation,” he clarified.

“I know, and it doesn’t feel like it,” you swore.

“Okay. I need to go now, but I love you. Sweet dreams, baby,” he said.

“Sweet dreams, my love! I love you too,” you replied, and he hung up.

The next conjugal visit couldn’t come fast enough.

#poppy writes #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #convict!noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #my ride or die #bad omens fanfiction

[scpredcap]

so I've been watching anime campaign (I know jello said not to but I did a while ago anyway sorry jello)

Anyway apon rewatch I noticed how Sylvie's story parallels Molly's in a way. Like howies words (she's a smart kid but she's a kid) also apply to him, and this kid who despite being competent is still clearly going through emotional development but instead of being pulled aside and talked to about how he's feeling and why he's hurt the only guidance and support he's given is tripwire encouraging his revenge. Again words from Howie (that's not funny, that's scary) when Noah tried saying she tried to offer him friendship it pissed me off cuz...when? She never tried discussing it with him or asking why he was so hurt. Never did she as a 24 year old think this 12 year old should even be humored. Up until the end where she just proclaims "we all hate Sylvie" like bitch he's 12 and you watched a convict slice his face open without a care cuz you thought this CHILD should be more mature. And I know he gets more plot later but I don't quite remember what and I can only hope they don't put it all on him to just learn to be mature. Please someone reach a hand out. Please let Molly say I understand, you deserve to have people support you while you figure out how you feel. And if that's how his ark goes I may die.

#epithet erased #sylvie ashling #molly blyndeff #anime campaign

[tawakkull]

ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 166

Shukr (Thankfulness)

Literally meaning gladness felt about and gratitude shown for the good done to one, Sufis use shukr to mean using one’s body, abilities, feelings, and thoughts bestowed upon one to fulfill the purpose of his or her creation: being thankful to the Creator for what He has bestowed. Such thankfulness is to be reflected in the person’s actions or daily life, in speech and in the heart, by admitting that all things are directly from Him, and by feeling gratitude for them.

One may thank God verbally by only depending upon His power and strength, as well as upon His bestowal or withholding of favors, and acknowledging that all good and bounties come from Him. As He alone creates all good, beauty, and bounty, as well as the means by which they can be obtained, only He sends them at the appropriate time.

Since He alone determines, apportions, creates, and spreads [all our provisions] before us as “heavenly tables,” He alone deserves our gratitude and thanks. Attributing our attainment of His bounties to our own or to another’s means or causes, in effect thereby proclaiming that He is not the true Owner, Creator, and Giver of all bounty, is like giving a huge tip to the servant who lays before us a magnificent table and ignoring the host who is responsible for having it prepared and sent to us. Such an attitude reflects sheer ignorance and ingratitude, as mentioned in: They know only the outward face of the life of the world (apparent to them), and they are completely unaware of (its face looking to) the Hereafter (30:7).

True thankfulness in one’s heart is manifested through the conviction and acknowledgment that all bounties are from God, and then ordering one’s life accordingly. One can thank God verbally and through one’s daily life only if personally convinced, and if one willingly acknowledges that his or her existence, life, body, physical appearance, and all abilities and accomplishments are from God, as are all of the bounties obtained and consumed. This is stated in: Do you not see that God has made serviceable unto you whatsoever is in the skies and whatsoever is in the earth, and has loaded you with His bounties seen or unseen? (31:20), and: He gives you of all that you ask Him; and if you reckon the bounties of God, you can never count them (14:34).

Bodily thankfulness is possible by using one’s organs, faculties, and abilities for the purposes for which they were created, and in performing the duties of servanthood falling on each. On the other hand, some have stated that verbal thankfulness means daily recitation of portions of the Qur’an, prayers, supplications, and God’s Names. Thankfulness by the heart means that one is certain or convinced of the truth of the Islamic faith and straightforwardness. Practical or bodily thankfulness, according to others, means observing all acts of worship. Since thankfulness relates directly to all aspects or branches of belief and worship, it is regarded as half of the faith. With respect to this inclusiveness, it is considered together with patience, meaning that according to some people, thankfulness and patience are considered as the two halves of religious life.

In His eternal Speech, God Almighty repeatedly commands thankfulness and, as in the phrases so that you may give thanks (2:52) and God will reward the thankful (3:144), presents it as the purpose of creation and of sending religion. In such verses as: If you are thankful I will add more unto you. But if you show ingratitude My punishment is terrible indeed (14:7), He has promised abundant reward to the thankful and threatened the ungrateful with a terrible punishment. One of His own Names is the All-Thanking, which shows us that the way to obtain all bounties or favors is through thankfulness, which He returns with abundant reward. He exalts the Prophets Abraham and Noah, upon them be peace, saying: (Abraham was) thankful for His bounties (16:121) and Assuredly, he (Noah) was a grateful servant (17:3).

Although thankfulness is a religious act of great importance and significant “capital,” few people truly do it: Few of My servants are thankful (34:13). Very few people live in full awareness of the duty of thankfulness, saying: Shall I not be a servant grateful (to my Lord)?, and try their best to perform their duty of thankfulness and order their lives accordingly.

The glory of humanity, upon him be peace and blessings, whose soles swelled because of his long supererogatory prayer vigils (tahajjud), was a matchless hero of thankfulness. On one occasion, he told his wife ‘A’isha: Shall I not be a servant grateful to God? He always thanked God and recommended thankfulness to his followers, and prayed to God every morning and evening, saying: O God. Help me mention You, thank You, and worship You in the best way possible.114

Thankfulness is the deep gratitude and devotion of one who, receiving His bounties or favors, directs these feelings toward the One Who bestows such blessing, and the subsequent turning to Him in love, appreciation, and acknowledgment. The above Prophetic saying expresses this most directly.

People are thankful for many things: the provisions, home, and family with which they have been favored; wealth and health; belief, knowledge of God, and the spiritual pleasures bestowed on them; and the consciousness with which God favored them so they could open themselves to the knowledge that they must be thankful. If those who are thankful for such a consciousness use their helplessness and destitution as “capital” and thank Him continuously, they will be among the truly thankful. It is narrated from God’s Messenger, upon him be peace and blessings, that

The Prophet David, upon him be peace, asked God Almighty: O Lord. How can I be thankful to You, since thanking You is another favor that requires thankfulness? The Almighty responded: Just now you have done it.

I think this is what is expressed in: We have not been able to thank You as thanking You requires, O All-Thanked One.

One can be thankful by recognizing and appreciating Divine favors, for feeling gratitude to the One Who bestows favors depends to a great extent on due recognition and appreciation of them. Belief and Islam (including the Qur’an) lead one to recognize and appreciate favors and thus turn to God in gratitude. One can be more aware of these favors, and that they are given to us by God out of His mercy for our helplessness and inability to meet our own needs, in the light of belief and Islamic practices. This awareness urges us to praise the One Who bestows upon us those favors and bounties that we consume. Awakening to the meaning of: As for the favor of Your Lord, proclaim it (93:11), we feel a deep need to be grateful and thankful.

Everyone is naturally inclined to praise the good and the one who does good to him or her. However, until this feeling is aroused there is no awareness of being favored by someone else, just as fish are not conscious of living in water. Furthermore, these favors may be attributed to the means and causes used to obtain them. If it is blindness and deafness not to see and appreciate the favors we continuously receive, then it must be an unforgivable deviation to attribute them to various blind, deaf, and unfeeling means and causes. The Prophetic statements: One who does not thank for the little does not thank for the abundant, and: One who does not thank people does not thank God, express blindness and deafness to favors and remind us of the importance of being thankful. Such verses as: Mention Me so that I will mention you, and give thanks to Me and do not be ungrateful to Me (2:152), and: Worship Him and give Him thanks (29:17) tell us that it is God Who truly deserves to be thanked, and also remind us of His absolute Unity.

Thankfulness can be divided into three categories. The first category consists of thankfulness for those things that everyone, regardless of religion or spiritual attainment, desires. The second category consists of thankfulness for those things that, although apparently disagreeable or displeasing, reveal their true nature to those who can see them as favors requiring gratitude.

The third category of thankfulness is that kind performed by those who are loved by God and view favors or bounties from the perspective of the One Who bestows them. They spend their lives in spiritual pleasure that begins in observing God’s manifestation of Himself through His favors, and take the greatest pleasure in worshipping Him. Although they are always enraptured with the spiritual delight flowing from their love of Him, they are extremely careful of their relationship with Him. Such people constantly strive to preserve the Divine blessings that have been bestowed upon them, and always search for what they have missed. While they constantly deepen their belief, love, and gratitude along the way toward Him, the “nets of their sight” are filled with different blessings and gifts.

O God! Include us among Your servants whom You love, have made sincere, and have brought unto You. Grant peace and blessings to our Master, the Master of those loved, made sincere, and brought near unto You.

#allah #god #islam #muslim #quran #revert #conevrt #convert islam #revert islam #reverthelp #revert help #revert help team #help #islamhelp #converthelp #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 57 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets home in time to take care of you when you need him the most, and he's ready to push aside his own exhaustion to let Noah celebrate Halloween. Announcements and plans are made, including some that you're looking forward to a lot more than Bradley is.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, smutty blowjob, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Noah woke up on Halloween, he made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he went. Then he stopped short next to the table. "Daddy?"

Bradley spun around to see his son standing there in disbelief. "Hey, Bub," he said as a smile bloomed across his face. "I missed you." He knelt down, and Noah immediately trotted across the room and right into his open arms. "I made it back just in time to go trick-or-treating with you."

He kissed Noah's cheek and buried his nose in his son's soft curls, inhaling the scent of home. "We're all going to go," Noah said with conviction. "Even Skittles has a costume. And Aunt Natasha is going to get one, too. She promised."

"Then I guess it will be a party," Bradley told him, deciding now wasn't the best time to mention that you may rather spend the evening in bed. "Are you hungry?" he asked, standing up with his son in his arms, simply because he wasn't ready to stop holding him. "Do you want pancakes?"

Bradley knew it was bad when a four year old looked at you like he was convinced anything you tried to cook would be inedible. "Can Mommy make them?"

"Wow," Bradley said, trying not to laugh. He was pretty convinced five minutes ago that he'd be able to follow the directions on the box, but maybe not. "Do you really think Mommy is that much better at cooking than I am?"

"Yes. She is. Can she make the pancakes?"

Bradley laughed and kissed his cheek again. "How about I give it the old college try since Mommy is still sleeping, okay?" He held Noah while he measured out the water, but when it was time to crack an egg, he set him down at the table with a glass of milk and an activity book that you or Nat must have got for him. He looked at the egg, not quite trusting himself, and he cracked it into a bowl instead directly into the pancake mix. He ended up picking pieces of the shell out of the bowl, but once he started to stir everything together, it looked pretty damn good. 

"Okay," he muttered, wondering if you'd want to eat breakfast in bed if he managed to pull this off. He should order one of those tray tables for you to use. He dumped some of the batter into the hot pan and started to look online for a purple tray when he got a little distracted. 

"Daddy," Noah said, pointing to the stove as soon as Bradley smelled the pancake starting to burn.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, setting his finally fully charged phone aside. "It's okay, I'll eat this one," he promised, flipping it over with a spatula to reveal a blackened, smoking mess. Now he paid close attention to what he was doing, and the next ones turned out pretty well, but it was too late.

"What did you burn?" you asked from the doorway with a smile. When Bradley tossed the spatula aside and rushed to your side, you said, "For a minute there, I thought it was all a dream, and that you weren't really home yet at all. But then I smelled something burning and knew you must be."

He wrapped one arm around your waist, tilted your chin up with his fingers and kissed you, hoping to convey just how badly he had missed you. He didn't stop until Noah asked, "Mommy, can you make the pancakes?"

"Let's let Mommy rest," Bradley replied, stroking your neck with his fingertips. "Do you want me to bring a plate of food into the bedroom?" he asked you.

You shook your head and whispered, "I'm okay. I might take a nap later, but I'm fine, Daddy." Then you took his hand gently in yours and brought it to rest on your belly. "So is this little one."

"I wouldn't have blamed you," he blurted out, and you tucked your face against his chest. As your arms snaked around his waist, he said, "I would have been sad, but only because I'm so excited for the baby. But I wouldn't have blamed you or been upset with you, Princess."

You nodded and whispered, "I know. It was so scary though. And I don't think I could have gone much longer without you here."

"I'm home. And I'm cooking and doing everything. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Mommy, please," came Noah's exasperated voice. "The pancakes."

You started laughing against Bradley. "Do you want dinosaur pancakes?" you asked, and Noah gasped in delight. "I'll take that as a yes. Step aside, Daddy. Watch and learn."

But he didn't step aside. He stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder and told you over and over again how much he loved you while you prepared the most adorable breakfast he'd ever seen in his life. You cut up a pancake to look like a stegosaurus body and added spikes made out of sliced strawberries. You used part of a banana as the neck, and added chocolate chips as eyes. 

"Damn," Bradley said. "That's almost as cute as you are. Can I have one, too?" Then you cut up the burned pancake and made a much less cute looking dinosaur while he laughed the whole time. "Thanks. That's exactly how I wanted it."

"You're welcome," you told him with a smirk as you took some of the good pancakes for yourself. He guided you over to the table with all of the plates of breakfast, and Noah abandoned his book while he clapped his hands.

"Thank you, Mommy," he said as he shoved some strawberries into his mouth.

Then Bradley guided you down onto his lap and held you while you ate. "It's good to be home. When you're done eating, I want you to get back in bed and wait for me," he whispered, tracing your side gently with his fingers while he stuck his fork into his burnt dinosaur pancake.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said softly. "We can't do that. Not for a few more weeks. The doctors said my uterus has to thicken a bit more, and I-"

"Baby," Bradley said a little louder. "No. Don't apologize. I don't care about that. I want you to rest, but I also want to show you the books I bought in Tokyo."

You looked at him over your shoulder, and he kissed your cheek. "I want you to know that I did miss you that way, too."

"I missed you in every way imaginable, Princess."

-----------------------

Bradley ended up carefully carrying you to bed as you yawned, and he promised to clean up the kitchen and get things ready for Halloween.

"I want you to relax," he said for at least the tenth time as he dug around in his still unpacked duffle bag. "I'll take Noah out to buy some pumpkins in a little bit, and I'll leave you a sandwich in the fridge that you can eat when you want it. But in the meantime, look how cool these are."

He sat on the edge of the bed next to your thigh and handed you a stack of Japanese children's books. You smiled and looked at the covers. They ranged from some meant for a baby to ones that Noah would be interested in when he started school. "You were really thinking about your family the whole time, huh?"

"Every second I was gone," he promised, leaning down to kiss you. He would take care of everything, and Nat promised she'd come back later, and you really did almost feel like you could relax. But you still felt a little guilty even as he ran his lips and mustache along your cheek to your ear and whispered your name.

"You must be exhausted and jetlagged," you told him. "You're the one who should be resting."

He just shook his head, kissed you one more time and said, "I'll call Nat if I need her. Otherwise, I'm perfect because I'm with you. Rest."

Then he was gone, and you drifted off into the kind of beautiful sleep where you didn't have to worry about what time it was or when Noah needed to eat again. When you woke up after noon to a completely silent house, you ate your sandwich and then went right back to bed. Eventually Noah's laughter and the warm afternoon light that seemed impossible to sleep through had you out of bed again, but when you looked around the house, you didn't see anyone. The back door was open, and when you went into the kitchen, you saw Bradley and Noah carving pumpkins on the deck.

You walked outside in the random clothing you'd been sleeping in, and as soon as the sun hit your face, you didn't feel as exhausted anymore. "Mommy's up!" Noah cheered, jumping up to hug you with his slimy, orange hands. 

"Don't touch her until you wash your hands, Bub," Bradley called out with a grimace. "Too late."

"It's okay," you told him, kissing the top of Noah's head. "Are you happy Daddy made it home in time for Halloween?"

He looked up at you with a little crease along his brow. "I knew he would. That's why we bought him a costume."

"Speaking of which," Bradley said as he kissed your cheek without putting his messy hands on you, "it's almost time to get changed to go collect candy."

"And ride in the wagon!" Noah exclaimed.

"What wagon?" you asked.

"You'll see," Bradley replied with a little smirk. 

After a leisurely shower during which you didn't have to worry about anything except yourself, you dressed in your princess costume that you and Noah picked out from the Halloween warehouse and put on some makeup. Then you added your brand new crown, and you thought you looked pretty incredible. When you walked out to the living room and saw Noah dressed as a little prince, your heart melted. 

"Sweet Noah," you gushed as he held onto his treat bag, all ready to go. He was wearing his yellow paper crown that Bradley managed to procure from some unknown spot in the house, and he just looked precious. 

"I like your crown, Mommy," he said, pointing to the gold one you were wearing.

You smiled. "I like my purple paper crown better."

"Don't laugh." You turned to see Bradley standing behind you in his rather ill fitting knight costume. It kind of looked like he was wearing aluminum foil that was a size too small, but he had a smile on his face, and his costume crinkled when you hugged him. "Hey, Mav and Penny are planning to stop by to take some photos with Noah, but if you want me to call them back and tell them we just want a quiet evening, I can do that."

You shook your head against his crunchy costume as you laughed. "We should tell them about the baby when they get here."

"Yeah?" he asked excitedly. "You want to?"

"I mean, Nat and Javy know. Dr. Kelly knows. I think Mav and Penny should know now, too."

"I love this idea," he whispered, letting his fingers gently glide along the front of your dress. "You're feeling better now?"

You nodded, but Noah didn't really let you answer before he started clapping as he looked out the front door. "Aunt Natasha is back!" 

She walked in dressed as a jester and picked Noah up to give him a kiss. A minute later, Maverick, Penny and Amelia were all there as well, and phones were being passed around along with Noah, because everyone wanted their picture with the tiny prince. 

"Okay, let me take one of everyone in front of the pumpkins on the porch," Bradley said as he collected a few phones in his hands and headed outside. He smirked at you as he added, "Everyone needs to squeeze together a little bit more. Make sure both of my kids are in there."

"Both?" Penny asked before she gasped, and the first photo Bradley took was of her turning to look at you with wide eyes. "Both?!"

"I'm pregnant," you announced with a smile, and the second photo Bradley took was of everyone else with wide eyes, too. And he snapped a few more where Nat was holding Noah with a grin on her face while the others all hugged you.

----------------------------

After a brief argument on your end, Bradley managed to get you and Noah both settled into the oversized wagon he bought earlier this afternoon. Then he clipped Skittles' leash on before attaching her tiny crown to her head. "There we go. The royal family is now complete."

"Have fun!" Nat called out, waving from the front porch with the bowl of candy, already crowded with neighborhood kids looking for their treats. 

"I don't need to be pulled in a wagon all night," you protested as Bradley scoffed.

"What kind of knight would I be if I wasn't doting on the two of you." Skittles barked, so he added, "I meant the three of you."

"Four," you said, pointing to your belly as he pulled the wagon down the driveway. 

"My point is," he said loudly, "I will be doting on my entire family all night long, and there's nothing you can do about it. Please keep your arms and legs inside the royal carriage until we come to a complete stop."

He very dutifully pulled up to each house before lifting Noah out and taking him up to collect his piece of candy. Bradley got the chance to enjoy so many of his neighbors telling him how sweet his son looked, and he kept reminding Noah to say thank you. After about an hour, two treat bags had been filled up with candy, and you looked like you were having fun. You even started waving from the wagon at everyone you passed like a real princess would.

"This is really fun," you said, holding on to Noah as Bradley turned another corner. 

"I love Halloween!" his son shouted. 

Truthfully, it was a bit of a challenge for Bradley to pull the wagon, keep Skittles from barking at the other kids, and take Noah up to each house and back, but he wasn't about to complain. Not after everything you'd done and been through while he was in Japan. But he would sleep well tonight. That was a given. 

"I think this was the last house," Bradley said, stifling his own yawn. "Feel like chatting about our wedding on the way back home?" he asked as Noah yawned as well and settled down in the wagon with you.

It was hard to read your face in the darkness. "What do you want to chat about?" you asked softly.

"How soon will you let me marry you?"

You laughed and said, "How soon do you want to get married?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Hmm," you hummed. "Seems like that would be short notice for wedding guests."

"We don't need wedding guests," he said, and he meant it. "You still want to use our backyard?"

"Yes."

Bradley slowed down over a particularly uneven part of the sidewalk. "Are you still set on Valentine's Day?  Because I'm thinking Christmas."

"Christmas?" you repeated. "Like less than two months from now?"

Bradley pulled the wagon up the driveway past the Bronco, and of course Noah was sound asleep. As soon as he scooped his son off of your lap, Nat came rushing over from her seat on the porch. "I can get him changed and put him in bed."

He didn't argue with her, rather he handed Noah off and focused on helping you out of the wagon. "Yeah. Less than two months from now. I keep thinking about how you threw me a Christmas in July birthday party. We could have a Christmas wedding, too. And after that, we can start the adoption process."

You moaned his name as he took your hand and headed for the house. "You know the way to my heart is through Noah."

He straightened out your crown, still rather fond of your purple one which was sitting safely on his dresser. "Is that a yes?" he whispered, kissing you softly while a few remaining kids ran down the sidewalk laughing. "We can make it official? And I can take care of you forever?"

"Yes."

------------------------------

Bradley helped you out of your princess costume after he stripped out of his knight costume, and his lips met the bare skin of your shoulder immediately. "I love you," he murmured, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the bed. But it didn't feel sexual. You knew that wasn't why he was being exceptionally wonderful right now.

"I love you, too."

His forehead came to rest against yours, and his hands were so gentle on your hips. "I'm just relieved to be home. And I'm sorry I wasn't here last week. If something worse had happened to you while I was gone, when you really needed me, I don't know what I would have done."

"We're all okay," you whispered, pushing him until he was sitting down on the bed looking up at you. "And I feel a lot better since I've been resting more." Your skin felt warm and tingly as he kissed you. Six weeks was a long time, and you knew Bradley hadn't even had access to all of the photos and videos on his phone to keep him company. And you did want it to feel sexual, because you missed every bit of him.

"Lay back on your pillow and wait for me," you told Bradley with a smile, using his words against him. 

He did as he was told and patted the spot next to him as he said, "Does that mean you're ready to snuggle with me?"

"Something like that, Daddy."

As soon as you licked your lips and reached for the front of his sweatpants, his eyes went wider. "No, Baby. You don't have to do that."

"I want to," you promised, pulling the fabric down to reveal his soft length. He still looked delicious even like this. You desperately wanted him in your mouth. You met his eyes and whispered, "Please?"

He was panting softly, the rise and fall of his chest so alluring even through his undershirt. He moaned your name and made a strangled sound before he reached for your hand. When he sat up slowly and kissed you gently, he placed your hand on his cock, and he immediately throbbed for you. 

As you rubbed your thumb down his length and along his balls, he grew harder. "You missed me touching you like this," you sang in a quiet voice, watching him as he watched your hand. When his eyes flitted back to your face he nodded. "Tell me you did, Bradley."

He swallowed hard, and his voice was so raspy, your hand faltered. "I missed you like this. I thought about your body when I touched myself, but my hands aren't as soft and perfect as yours."

"Daddy," you whimpered, leaning down to kiss away his precum before taking him between your lips.

But he continued on as you sucked, driving you as wild as you were driving him. "I thought about you with a pregnant belly. I thought about how much I'm going to love fucking you when you're big and round. Big because of my baby."

You took him deep, letting him tap the back of your throat as you saw stars along your vision. "Fuck! Princess! I'm not even gonna last."

Slowly, you let your lips glide back up his length, sucking all the way to his tip. "Then just go ahead and come, Daddy. I want you to."

When he collapsed back against the pillow and tucked one arm beneath his head, you took him deep again. He wasn't kidding, because you could see the veins in his neck as his face grew pink, and you knew he was already close. You didn't rush him along, but you bobbed to a pace that left him grabbing at the bedding with his free hand.

"Baby!" he whined, rolling his hips up until you were starting to gag, and then he came. You were sputtering, swallowing him down as quickly as you could as your name fell from his lips over and over again. "Come up here," he demanded, and when you crawled toward him as you licked your lips clean, he gathered you carefully in his arms.

You never felt as loved as you did when you were with him. His body was perfectly warm and everything you had been missing. His voice calmed every part of you. "December," he whispered as he played with your engagement ring. It took you a moment to realize what he meant as he kissed at your lips. "December. We'll get married. We'll all be Bradshaws. Me and you and Noah and the baby. That's all I need."

"And Skittles."

"Please. She's my best non-human friend. It's unspoken."

--------------------------

When Bradley promised to meet you at your lunchtime appointment with your obstetrician on Wednesday, you were a little skeptical. 

"Even if I have to flip off Admiral Simpson and tell him to go fuck himself, I will be there."

You had laughed at the time, but you should have known he wouldn't miss a chance to interrogate your doctor in his flight suit. He stood next to you as you were told to lie back on the table for a pelvic exam, and he kept his eyes on you through the uncomfortable experience, looking down at you like you were the best thing in the world. 

"Does she need another progesterone shot today?" he asked softly as you reached for his hand. "And are you going to monitor her with more appointments? And will we get to see an ultrasound?"

"Yes, yes, and yes." Your doctor looked at you and said, "We'll monitor you more closely even after you're done with the injections. We are going to consider you high risk."

"High risk?" you gasped. "That sounds very bad."

"It's not!" he insisted as he guided you to sit up a little bit. "It just means you and the baby get extra attention."

Bradley looked the doctor in the eye and said, "She wants to go to Disneyland for a day or two. Is that even okay?"

You were ready to pout and tell both of them that you felt fine now. There had been no more blood. You were getting plenty of rest. Then he said the words you'd been hoping to hear. "Disneyland would be fine. Just don't overdo it."

"Yes!" you cheered. "Noah will be so excited! Let's go for Thanksgiving!"

Bradley opened his mouth, and you could tell he wanted to protest, but your doctor started to spread gel on your belly, and then the baby was visible on the screen on the wall when the ultrasound started up. "Oh damn," Bradley whispered, suddenly mesmerized by what he saw as he gripped your hand tighter. "Look at the heartbeat. Look at the baby."

"Does he or she look healthy?" you asked, mesmerized as well.

"Very healthy, but we will keep a close eye on things."

When Bradley walked you back to your car which was parked next to the Bronco, you pulled him to a stop. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and your scrubs rubbed gently against his flight suit. "Will you please let me plan a few days at Disneyland?"

"Two days," he replied immediately, clearly already resigned to his fate. "And you have to stay hydrated. And if you even start to look tired, I'm going to push you around in a wheelchair. And if you say anything hurts, we're leaving immediately."

"Disney!" you practically screamed as you bobbed up and down in his grasp and kissed his cheek. "I can't wait to tell Noah! I'll see you at home later, Daddy."

"I'll pick Noah up along with dinner. When I get home you better have your feet up and a glass of water in your hand."

"I will," you promised, matching his serious expression with one of your own. "I'll be very careful. And I'll plan our little vacation. And you'll take exceptional care of everything else."

"You know I will."

--------------------------

We should all have a Bradley in our lives to let us rest and heal when we need to. That man is going to take care of everything and probably plan a wedding, too. Is Nat also going to Disneyland? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 58

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #the younger kind

[maegalkarven]

Family matters AU. Levi and Noah's meeting throught Levi's POV.

Levi knew it long before he asked. Long before he opened his mouth at all, actually.

It is universally acknowledged truth amidst the druids what everyone moving on two feet is a dirty liar.

This societal conviction grows out of another known to the druids fact; emotions have smells.

Emotion is a chemical reaction of a body to some outside stimulus, and, as any chemical reaction, it provides an echo. A mix of hormones getting into the blood, extra sweating or unusual heart hate, the rise of the body heat or the sudden drop of it.

Emotions control such reactions and thus provide the outlet for the body to process it.

Thus the smell changes.

It almost never fully aligns with the way two feet walker presents themselves, does not back up the words spoken aloud.

They all are liars: humans, elves, dwarves and halflings, mixed breeds of all kinds, children touched by Hells.

Everyone lies; their smell does not.

So, naturally, as a talented druid of his own, Leviathan Anchev always relies on the smells first, they have never let him astray before.

Not what he can remember.

So this is what catches his attention when it's more wise to pay it to a fight.

The smell.

The ghostly-light wiff of another living being in the building.

A child. A particularly strange smelling child.

This is what leads him to abandon the fight at all, rather recklessly even, and follow the scent to a small alcove with steep stairs leading up.

This is what makes him climb the steps, effortlessly discard of several alerted by his presence guards and stop in front of a locked door.

This is what makes him blast the darned lock to ashes, turn on the knob and step inside.

The smell.

The intricate mix of personal odor of two people combined.

It is another universally aknowledged by druids truth what children often smell as a combination of their parent's scents. It stirs from the primeval biology and the way the child is inevitably a product of two genomes interwoven, combined to a new, previously unexistent mix.

One is his.

Another belongs to Gortash.

It is also a thing what helps animals track their cubs, no matter how far they've gone.

Levi is very much that animal now.

And he knows; he knows even before he sees the boy with the dark hair and Gortash's face, sans the crooked nose and dark shadows under his eyes. He knows before infernally bright green eyes peer at him curiously, his own gaze reflected back at him.

He knows before the child stumbles from the sofa he was sitting on, transfixed by some odd board game.

He knows and something deep inside him aches and burns and twists.

His. This little boy with faint freckles scattered across cheeks is his.

But two-legged creatures are liars, and Levi is currently one, so naturally, he is too.

And he lies. To the boy he just met yet loves more than is reasonable, to himself, a man not allowed such affections, to the whole situation itself. He lies and pretends he Does Not Get it.

He lies and intruduces himself, he lies and chats the boy up as his father climbs the stairs, no doubt brought up by some kind of alarm system.

He lies even as Enver Gortash's body betrays him, his own scent betrays him, letting Levi know not only of the man's presence, but the sudden, wild and uncontrollable gush of affection.

The boy is the source of it. No, the boy and him, interacting with each other.

Just what kind of a tragedy Levi managed to leave behind?

But he keeps the rouse, asks the questions, and finds more than he had any right to know.

His voice trembles and his hands tremble and finally he snaps, because he is not a wild animal and he needs to hear the confirmation spoken aloud.

It is spoken aloud, with the smile so false it reeks of its owner being wary, ready to open fire at the mere hint of his cub being in danger.

That revelation is worse than knowing he and Gortash were involved. That revelation lets him know the child is loved and, if the total lack of fear from the boy is of any indication, is treated fairly.

That's a low blow.

His voice trembles as he tries to calm the child - his child - down as the boy - Noah, Noah - sobs, hands wrapped around Levi's neck in a strongest hold they can muster.

He can smell a fury of conflicted emotions tearing at his companions, and cares not. Not even for Astarion's, who seems to be affected even more than Karlach.

Instead he concentrates on the intoxicating scent of him and Gortash intertwining, joining in this child, the product of their creation.

Their child.

He kisses Noah's forehead and tastes the expensive soap what was used, he buries his nose in his hair and it smells of herbs. He closes his eyes and melts away, merging together with a creature what was once inside his body, whom he had grown, muscle and bones and sinew, from his very own flesh.

Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood.

His son.

#dark urge: levi #oc: noah gortash #durgetash #family matters #you see what I do instead of sleeping??? this #unbelievable #druids my beloved

[wibble-wobbegong]

Ross Duffer, Shawn Levy, Brett Gelman, and Noah Schnapp have signed the #NoHostageLeftBehind letter to Biden which reads,

“Dear President Biden,

We are heartened by Friday’s release of the two American hostages, Judith Ranaan and her daughter Natalie Ranaan and by today’s release of two Israelis, Nurit Cooper and Yocheved Lifshitz, whose husbands remain in captivity.

But our relief is tempered by our overwhelming concern that 220 innocent people, including 30 children, remain captive by terrorists, threatened with torture and death. They were taken by Hamas in the savage massacre of October 7, where over 1,400 Israelis were slaughtered - women raped, families burned alive, and infants beheaded.

Thank you for your unshakable moral conviction, leadership, and support for the Jewish people, who have been terrorized by Hamas since the group’s founding over 35 years ago, and for the Palestinians, who have also been terrorized, oppressed, and victimized by Hamas for the last 17 years that the group has been governing Gaza.

We all want the same thing: Freedom for Israelis and Palestinians to live side by side in peace. Freedom from the brutal violence spread by Hamas. And most urgently, in this moment, freedom for the hostages.

We urge everyone to not rest until all hostages are released. No hostage can be left behind. Whether American, Argentinian, Australian, Azerbaijani, Brazilian, British, Canadian, Chilean, Chinese, Danish, Dutch, Eritrean, Filipino, French, German, Indian, Israeli, Italian, Kazakh, Mexican, Panamanian, Paraguayan, Peruvian, Polish, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian, South African, Spanish, Sri Lankan, Thai, Ukrainian, Uzbekistani or otherwise, we need to bring them home. “

You can read it yourself here, alongside every celebrity who signed it.

Knowing that so many people involved with Stranger Things’ production are going out of their way to support this, I’m no longer going to be posting about or interacting with Stranger Things content and I won’t be watching season 5.

I suggest reading the full list as others may disappoint you as they have disappointed me.

From the river to the sea,

Palestine will be free.

#i hope the rest of y’all are able to find new interests #stranger things #shaking with violent rage rn #bunch of pieces of shit

[eddieydewr]

The irony in Noah being called an anti-Palestine Zionist even though he said he hopes for their peace and distinguished between them and Hamas. . . Do these people purposely twisting his words not know anything about Hamas? Do they think that equating all of Palestine and its people with Hamas is a good thing? I'm at a loss looking at his tag and this fandom. Terrorism is wrong no matter who's doing it and acting like he's said this out of nowhere instead of referencing a very specific event is mind-boggling. Did the mention of Israel suddenly throw all compassion and understanding out the window? Are we not allowed to feel for all innocent lives lost, whether they be Palestinian or Israeli? I don't understand. The callous disrespect for human life is scary to witness. Anyone that supports Hamas supports the extermination of the Jewish and Palestinian people, because Gazans will never be free under terrorist rule and will instead suffer the most no matter what and it is within Hamas' political doctrine to kill the Jews. But sure. Let's all focus our anger on a teenager and act like he called for genocide. If he had omitted "Israel vs terrorism" would they still be so mad even though he was obviously talking about Hamas and what they did recently and still managed to show support for the Palestinian people? Sorry for the essay.

👆👆👆 i think they’re too angry and jumping the gun to really take in what noah wrote. there are people who are already biased against noah, and there are people who can’t or won’t accept nuance. so they’re firm in their conviction that noah is a zionist. they’re also very nitpicky with what noah said; they believe he’s saying palestinians AND muslims are terrorists. the 40 babies being killed is supposed to be misinformation but there is a lot of misinformation, missing context and propaganda flying about - it’s an ongoing event so the incoming news and updates are endless and people will get some things wrong, even without malicious intent. even the most educated people are unable to form their thoughts, so what chance do ordinary people have? even noah who is smart enough for UPenn, but he’s majoring in economics (i think), not geopolitics and such, so he’s supposed to be quiet because he’s not educated in that area, according to twitter activists. i don’t necessarily agree, because he is jewish and he’s worried about his cultural homeland. he also sympathises with palestinians but it’s just not good enough, i guess. we’re supposed to say something but we also should shut up because we’re not educated enough but we’re evil if we’re silent cos that means we side with the oppressors!! we can’t win.

anyway, streets are saying it was a friend who wrote that insta post and they asked noah to share it. whoever wrote it, it’s a sensible, thoughtful post and the backlash is over the top. reading comprehension is out of the window and noah seems to be public enemy number one on my twitter timeline. they talk about him like he’s absolutely vile and akin to a dictator, like he’s responsible for the long history between israel and palestine. the backlash against ST cast members like brett, jamie bower, and cara buono seems nothing in comparison. and we all know why.

#noah schnapp