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thefallennightmare · 4 months

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Just Pretend-Twenty Two

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

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

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

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

Authors Note: PHASE II comes to an end! Strap in everyone, PHASE III is going to be a smutty ride.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

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

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

NOAH

I let out a long sigh as I ran my hands over my thighs, the green couch becoming a familiar place for me. Even the dying plants on the shelf behind Dr. Poulos brought a sense of comfort. She had her book open on her lap, tapping her pen against it.

Three times.

She always tapped it three times.

“You seem happier today Noah,” Dr. Poulos noted.

I nodded. “I am. For the first time in a long time.”

“That’s great,” she smiled warmly before she used her pen to point to her hair. “New look?”

“Uh, it kind of happened. I didn’t expect to cut my hair, it’s been long for so many years now, but I felt with what happened I could use a change. But it still might be too long for my liking. I might cut it some more,” I said.

“Hm, typically that’s a sign of some growth. What happened?”

For the next few minutes, I filled her in on almost everything that happened at Chase’s birthday party, leaving out the intimate details between Y/N and I. Although, with the way my cheeks burned red, I had a feeling Dr. Poulos already knew.

I explained from top to bottom everything from the last time Y/N and I spoke to the night she told me she loved me back. Even saying the term ‘I love you’ was a huge step on the mountain for me. But to have her say it back? I’m finally catching up on years of sleep. Y/N loves me. She fucking loves me back.

“Do you believe her?” Dr. Poulos questioned.

“I do! I do, I love her with all of me,” I answered with a stern nod. “I just don’t know how to stop worrying about Y/N leaving if shit gets messy or if I don’t live up to her expectations. There’s this perception of me out there and even so, I don’t want it to taint her or us.”

She sat straighter in her chair. “Noah, you’re putting too much work on yourself. You really are. You’re both heavily aware of who you are as people. You’re human beings.”

Dr. Poulos adjusted her glasses and took some notes before speaking again when I remained silent.

“From everything you’ve explained; you both seem to be willing to start over. Start with a new slate, the situation at the party seemed to have changed the situation from both of your points of view. I have homework for you.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Oh, but you know I’m busy, I don’t have time to do homework. I haven’t done homework since I was 15.”

“Not that type of homework,” she chuckled. “What I’m saying is now that we’ve set the foundation regarding perspective, energy, and intention, we can move on to what to actually say to Y/N about your unmet needs and your fears of emotional and maybe physical abandonment.”

She went into each definition thoroughly as I sat with my hands resting on my knee, listening intently.

“I wouldn’t go that far. Abandonment? That sounds silly and almost too serious. I don’t know about that,” I said once she finished.

With a sigh, Dr. Poulos shut her book and set it on the table between us. “Noah, we’ve been seeing each other a while now. It’s my personal observation you indeed have conditions hindering you from this. It’s why you’re having a difficult time communicating and allowing this new slate to happen without fear.”

To be frank, I didn’t want to hear the entire gist. All it did was give me flashbacks of things I wasn’t comfortable dealing with. At least I thought I wasn’t prepared to handle it, I suppose I was now. I knew I needed to have a prosperous and healthy life, as well as one with Y/N.

“Noah? Noah, are you listening?”

I blinked a few times. “No, I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?”

“Every satisfied emotional need breeds connection and deepens your bond. Therefore, every unmet need has the opposite effect. It breeds disconnection. This happens because when your needs aren’t consistently met, it produces anxiety in you, which leads to conflict, which, if not handled skillfully, breeds further disconnection, and on and on. The cycle is never-ending.”

She spoke so softly, so calmly while I sat there with my hands in my lap so desperately trying to get into what she was saying to me.

To be blunt? This was a-fucking-lot.

Dr. Poulos tucked a strand of hair that fell loose from her bun to behind her ear. “Noah, you and Y/N must erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs. Learn to powerfully communicate your needs using a simple yet powerful template, and overcome the two most common barriers to having your needs consistently met.”

She handed me a piece of paper to which I took it from her hands and began to skim over it while she kept talking.

“I offer suggestions for what to say, but they are merely suggestions. The goal is that you speak from your heart and express your truth with love and gentleness. I have a worksheet for you, review it. Think about it, and see what you can come up with. Practice in the mirror.”

On the drive leaving therapy, I thought back to my entire session with Dr. Poulos. It all seemed so silly, so corny. It did. However, I had to put my ego aside to let myself take in the seriousness of what was in front of me. I didn’t want anything to destroy my future with Y/N, hell even me just as a man. I had to do this.

To realize I’m not powerless and finally take charge of creating the loving dynamic that I for so long struggled to have and keep.

Maybe this week away in the house Bad Omens rented would help clear my mind and I could practice this worksheet she gave me; when I wasn’t busy recording the new record.

Instead of going straight home, I had to make a quick stop at Y/N’s place. As I knocked on their apartment door, I waited not so patiently with excitement in my veins. Malcolm opened the door with Salem in his arms.

I clapped my hands while stepping inside. “There he is!”

Chase snorted from the living room as I took Salem from Malcolm. “Clearly, Salem will be fine while we’re gone.”

“Y/N isn’t getting him back so easy, I hope she knows that,” I scratched Salem between his eyes; his favorite spot.

“Oh, by the way,” Malcolm started while handing me the bag of Salem’s things. “I know you guys have a couple hour drive to your rental house but Salem hates the carrier. He’ll most likely move around the car before settling into someone’s lap.”

“Have you guys thought about buying him a harness and leash?” I suggested.

Chase sucked in a breath. “Do not tell Y/N that. She won’t even let Salem sit in front of an open window because she’s afraid he’ll jump out and run away.”

“Speaking of Y/N,” I adjusted Salem in my arms. “Is she home?”

“No, not yet. Do you want to stay and wait? See her before we leave?” Malcolm offered with a smile.

I looked at my watch and internally cringed. The guys were waiting for me to get back from therapy before heading out towards our rental house a few hours away.

“Shit, I would but I have to get back home. Plus, I don’t want to push her. I want this to happen naturally,” I said.

Chase snorted, now standing next to Malcolm. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious,” I chuckled.

“We know, dude. But, you could always-.”

“I have to get back home,” I said, interrupting Malcolm. “But I’ll text Y/N later.”

“Okay,” Chase says in a sing-song voice, belting out the last few words. “Whatever you say.”

I cringed, covering Salem’s ears. “Wow, almost as good as me. Except, my ear drums are probably fucked now.”

“Oh fuck you, Mr. Steve Perry meets Cher. I can sing,” he held his hands up.

“No, you can’t, love” Malcom left a kiss on Chase’s cheek.

He looked between us with a wild expression. “WOW! Taking his side!?”

“Well!,” I adjusted Salem and the bag. “That’s my queue to leave.”

“Figures, thank you for taking care of your new cat,” Chase said.

“My new cat?”

“Salem Sebastian L/N, that’s pretty much his name now,” Malcolm said while throwing his auburn-colored hair up into a messy bun.

I hastily shook my head. “We haven’t even labeled it yet.”

Chase and Malcolm shared a look before the former spoke. “Oh no, we’re not doing this again. You and Y/N are two peas in a pod, and I know how badly you both want to be in that pod.”

“Especially with that new haircut,” Malcolm nodded towards my short hair.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” I bid them goodbye with a nod and turned on my heels, stepping through the door.

“Bye Salem’s dad! Talk to you later,” Chase called after me.

On the drive back home, Salem was perched in my lap with his front paws resting on the door, his wondrous eyes taking in every sight I drove past.

“You know,” my voice broke the silence. “I guess your uncle isn’t exactly wrong, Salem. I mean, I could be your dad. Do you want me to be your dad? I think you do.”

He then positioned himself so he could curl up in my lap, his soft purrs vibrating against me.

NOAH

“Are you guys ok with steaks tonight?” Jolly asked from the kitchen.

Matt, who sat next to me on the couch, nodded eagerly. “We’ve eaten like shit the last two days. A nice home-cooked meal sounds delicious, thanks, honey.”

Jolly flipped him off with a smile before going back to getting things set up for dinner.

Nicholas and Folio were talking amongst themselves on the couch next to the one I sat on, but the conversations fell on deaf ears as I continuously scrolled through my phone. The last two days, we’d been locked away in the rental house recording the new album and now, we were taking a much-needed break tonight, opting to grill out and have a bonfire; Jesse and Michael joined us earlier today.

The guys and I have been talking about this for a while now and after the incident right before we left to come up to the mountains, it was time for us to put this idea into motion.

Also, the picture I saw on Y/N’s Instagram story minutes before had me set in stone with my decision.

“We need a bigger house,” I blurted, nearly scaring Salem as he slept between Matt and me.

Jolly nearly dropped the raw steaks while Jesse turned towards me from his spot at the kitchen table.

“That’s random,” Michael said slowly while pausing his mixing at the laptop station.

I shrugged. “We’ve been thinking of moving anyway because of the notes on the car incident and now with that fan showing up on our doorstep, I think it’s about time we move. Too many people know where we live.”

My three roommates shared a glance before Jesse spoke next. “I mean, we have been browsing Zillow lately. A few have come up that we liked.”

Jolly agreed with a nod. “I’ll send an email to the realtor who was working with us before. See if she can get us set up with some tours.”

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“Kind of last minute, don’t you think?” Nicholas asked.

“We’re going to be busy for the next few months. I’d rather get this shit done and over with.”

Matt, who was scrolling through his phone next to me, snorted quietly. “I’d suggest looking for hardwood floors or tile.”

I turned toward him while narrowing my eyes. “What?”

“For the paint spills, it’s easier to clean,” he said while showing me his phone; Y/N’s Instagram post up on the screen. “Look at your face! You’re totally turning turnip fucking red!

With a bashful smile, I scratched my chin. “No, I’m not.”

“Noah and Y/N sitting in a large tree because of Noah’s height! K. I. S. S. I. N. G!”

I shoved Matt. “Fuck off.”

Then I turned back to my roommates. “We need a bigger space with seven bedrooms.”

Jolly quirked a brow. “Seven?”

“Uh,” I ran my hands over my thighs. “Y/N wants a studio for her art, her paintings. I want to make sure she has one.”

Michael smiled. “Well that certainly is a grand gesture isn’t it?”

“It’s something I want to do, man,” I defended.

“I know, Noah. We’ll find a bigger place, it’ll all work out,” he reassured me.

“I hope so.”

Jolly paused prepping dinner to send an email to our realtor, Jackie, as we all spent the rest of the night searching for different houses that would be perfect. All the while, Folio’s phone conversation rested on my ears.

“I know those Mexican candies are your favorite, Michelle. Why do you think I sent you them?” Folio chuckled with a wide smile.

“Noah, it’s almost ten!” Nicholas called from the deck outside.

The patio door was open, letting in the cool night air, and I was helping Jolly clean up the mess from dinner. Salem sat on the counter, every so often licking up the leftover food from the plates I was washing.

“Shit,” I cursed, quickly drying my hands, and pulled out my phone.

However, before I could send the nightly text to Y/N, one from her appeared.

Angel 🪽: I love you, mochi.

Jolly peered over my shoulder. “Oh, that’s adorable.”

I playfully stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.”

My fingers worked fast to text Y/N back.

Me: I love you too, angel.

Part of me didn’t want to stop talking to her yet so while leaning against the counter, I scrolled through the videos folder on my phone, selecting the one I took earlier today. It was when we finished mastering The Grey and I was feeling great about how it came out, confident that Y/N would love it so I recorded Salem as he slept during it. Before recording another video of me singing it.

I sent her the first video I took; the one of Salem lying on the couch while The Grey played in the background.

Angel 🪽: Hi Salem baby! Mom misses you! Also, I hear something in the background. Is it..?

I decided to mess with her and not come out right and say it was that song. The one that she gave Jolly the lyrics to. The one she thought was too dark for herself.

Me: He’s napping. He had a long day of playing outside.

I laughed out loud, knowing that her brows were raised to her forehead with this text.

Angel 🪽: You took him outside?

“Do you think Mom is upset with me?” I asked the cat, who simply didn’t bother to care what I was showing him; he wanted the leftover mashed potatoes from Matt’s plate.

Me: Don’t worry, angel. We had him on a harness and leash. He loved laying in the sun on the back patio.

Angel 🪽: I trust you with him, Noah. But what’s that playing in the background of your video?

With my finger hovering over the other video I took, I contemplated sending it. Was it too much? Was it not enough? Would she figure it out? I mean, it was partially her words- meaningful, important. I just added to them. Both of us pulled out the dark from each other. Adding it shirtless, was just another decision- a good, good decision. I wanted her clenching and biting her lip.

Not bothering to overthink it any longer, I hit send.

Me: I can’t wait for you to hear the final version.

NOAH

Mother fucker.

Piece of shit.

Douchebag.

I paced the floor in the living room of the rental house, back and forth. I was so angry, the rage inside me was desperately trying to break through. Ever since I saw that video all over Twitter and Instagram, no amount of meditation and deep breathing could calm the burning anger.

I should have hit him when I had the chance.

Fucking Trey.

“You’re doing the pacing thing again, Noah,” Nicholas sighed.

I ran my fingers through my hair, one of the stands wrapped around my long finger, a hiss falling from my lips when I tugged on a knot. “Ow!”

“Sit down! Stop pacing and stop tugging your damn hair! You’re giving me whiplash.” Matt demanded.

“You saw the video, Matt! It’s been all over Twitter and Instagram all fucking day. I can't even check Bad Omens socials without it showing up. You heard what Trey said to Y/N! He had no regard for her feelings, for any of them. He has no fucking business even being there to begin with.”

It seemed like last night after the Hollow Souls show, Trey managed to get backstage and confront Y/N, Chase, and Malcolm. No one was sure who recorded it but from how close the video was, my guess was one of the venue workers. Probably sold it to TMZ for a few extra bucks.

“I’m aware, Noah. We’re all aware and so is half of Twitter. He’s an asshole and his dad should have pulled out,” Matt said.

I snorted, halting my pacing only for a moment. “We should tweet that.”

He chuckled, “You know I’m game.”

Jesse spoke next. “There’s nothing you can do, Noah. But based on her reaction, Y/N stood up for herself. She got the closure and told Trey to fuck off. You can’t control and fix everything. She handled it on her own.”

I marveled at how much he sounded like Dr. Poulos. Always reminding me of what I can’t control. I knew I couldn’t control or fix anything but it still made me angry.

“He still had no right to say things like that; not to her,” I fell onto the couch next to Michael, my leg immediately beginning to bounce.

Bailey told Y/N a piece of her mind, followed by Trey. I could only imagine how broken she must have felt with the two in such a short amount of time. But Y/N was a strong woman. She held her head high and always took the high road. She defended herself and stood up for what she believed in, what she wanted out of life.

For that, I will always admire her.

Matt leaned against the pool stick in his hand, he and Jolly pausing their game of pool when I rushed down the steps to show them the video.

“I get it. So many fucking people with their opinions and people who say shit just to say it; even that slimy fuck. But, think of how fucking cool Y/N is. She told him off and he's never going to come back from that. Trust me, everyone’s trashing him. I doubt he’ll ever be in a fuckin band again.”

“You’re right,” I smiled proudly.

He snorted, going back to the pool game. “I know I am, thank you.”

Peering at the clock on the wall, I noticed it was only 7 in the evening, still a few hours until my nightly text with Y/N. Although I wanted to ask her about how she was feeling but knew that if it was something to worry about, Chase or Malcolm would have texted me.

I was, however, shocked when I received a text from an unknown number; the message making me sit straighter up on the couch. Michael noticed the way my body went stiff for a brief moment and motioned to my phone.

“Don’t tell me it’s another video.”

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s a text; from Joe.”

Folio’s head snapped up from petting Salem who was lying in his lap. “Joe Mulherin. The artist they’re touring with?”

I nodded now. “Yeah.”

Unknown: Hey Noah, this is Joe. I got your number from Chase and Malcolm. This is a little awkward but I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve actually listened to your band- you’re really talented! The acoustic version of If I’m There was killer, seriously.

“Oh, is he sweet-talking you?” Matt asked while peering over my shoulder as he knelt behind the couch.

As I went about saving his number, another message from Joe came through.

Joe Mulherin: I’m texting you because I’m sure you saw the video of what happened with Trey and Y/N. I will firstly say, she’s fucking awesome! And I’m honored to be on this tour with her and the guys. Incredible musicians and incredible people. Gearing back to the whole Trey situation, he showed up out of nowhere; but I feel it’s important to let you know, at least from my side, that Y/N kicked ass. She stood up for herself and I could see she felt a world of relief.

“What are you going to say?” Jesse asked while taking a bite from his apple, now sitting on the other side of me.

“No fucking privacy,” I grumbled under my breath as I worked out a response.

Me: Hey Joe, it’s Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Y/N has been a huge fan of yours for a long time. She was stoked about this tour, and yes she is awesome. Y/N’s special to a lot of us. She’s a genuine person and has a heart of gold; Chase and Malcolm as well. I appreciate your kind words. That means a lot. You know how it is- especially in this industry. And I did see the video, unfortunately. You were there?

Joe Mulherin: In case she needed support.

Running a hand over my jaw, I pushed away the feeling of regret for not being there for her. Y/N didn’t need me there with her all the time to fight her battles. She clearly could do it on her own.

Me: Right, thank you for that. I hated what Trey said, I wish I could have stopped it myself but I also know how important it was for Y/N to have closure. I’m so fucking proud of her.

It was true. My heart was soaring in my chest with how proud I was of her. She needed this closure. Not enough to bring her back or get closer to him because Y/N knew she couldn't live through that again.

Joe Mulherin: You should be proud. She’s awesome and she’s over the moon about you. From what I’m told you really lit a fire inside her, and that seems to be shining through. My partner did that for me when I found her and I’m sure it’s the same for you as well. So I just wanted to pass this along and formally introduce myself. I’m sure Y/N will bring this up to you but I wanted to show you how I saw it on my end. I hope we can meet soon.

Joe Mulherin: Oh, also. Hollow Souls new record is going to be sick. What they’ve been working on is sounding great.

With a bright smile, I leaned back onto the couch as I typed out my message.

Me: For sure! Thank you so much. I wish I could be there. But, I understand it’s not the right time. I do hope soon we can chill at my place to shoot the shit. Thank you again for sending me a text. Very kind of you and I’m sure we’ll talk soon. I can’t wait to hear her new album. We’re all very stoked about it. We’re also close to releasing our record, I’d love for you to check it out!

Joe Mulherin: Hell yes!

Matt hummed while patting my shoulder. “He seems like a cool dude.”

I agreed with a nod as a sudden surge of inspiration hit me; so much so I sat up with a start.

“Hey, Jolly. Can you open the file for Like a Villain? I have a verse I want to add real quick.”

Nicholas responded. “Weren’t we worried that it might have been too long?”

Cursing, I nodded when I remembered that we were running into that issue the other day when we were mixing Like a Villain. We were already over the five-minute mark but I needed to add this verse; it was important.

“Let’s split it. Make the first half its own song,” I suggested when the idea struck me.

My bandmates all shared a look before Folio nodded. “I like it. But we’d need a name for it.”

I pursed my lips as I thought about the lyrics, humming them quietly.

You couldn't wait, wait, wait for the day, day, day I lost. It's such a shame, shame, shame you couldn't change, look what it cost.

“What It Cost,” I said.

Jolly smiled. “I like it. Why don’t you head in the booth and we can record the new lyrics.”

As I set myself up in the booth, I muttered the new lyrics to myself a few times over, trying to figure out the best way to lay them out and what kind of cursive to use for it. The music picked up in my headphones and immediately moved to the beat. My fingers drummed against my thigh in beat with Folio’s drumming on the track. I let my eyes flutter shut, licking my lips, before belting out the fresh lyrics in the confines of the booth.

The dark filled the room, any feelings I had earlier regarding Trey died down, and the shadows were lost. A fry of my larynx and siren-like soprano erupted from me. Slowly the bravado went from soft almost alluring- “Go the fuck away, don’t come again.”

To a bite so vicious and raw, the growls come from activated my soft palate, ribcage expanding and within my diaphragm spreading to my throat and out my mouth.

“I’ll see your face in the fire” ribcage closed exhale alto “And burn it out.”

I added a deep growl to the word fire but didn’t like how it sounded. So with a twirl of my finger towards Jolly, we redid the take a few more times until it was perfect.

This is confidence hard-won yet deep, anchored in the true self that is always safe at my core. I let it rip. If Y/N can close that chapter, so will I. From what I knew of him, what I remembered. What I’ve seen.

Good fucking riddance.

Later that night in the comfort of my bed, I grasped my phone in my hand as my eyes drifted in and out of sleep. It was almost 10 pm and even though I was exhausted, ready for slumber to drag me to its dark depths, I needed to send this text; sleep be damned.

Me: I love you, angel. I’m so proud of you.

I didn’t say why but I didn’t have to. Y/N knew.

Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi. 🖤

NOAH

I shook my head with a disappointed sigh. “No, this house won’t work. It’s not big enough. “

Jackie looked around the living room we were all currently standing in; smaller than the one back at our house.

“Why? It has enough space for the four of you. You’re all in music, right? There’s a room perfect in the basement for that.”

Jolly sucked in a breath as I scrunched up my face. We want our studio to have light, and not feel as if we’re making music in a dungeon.

“We need four rooms for us and two extra. One for our studio. And the other would have to be bigger, better lighting,” I informed while stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

This was the second house we’ve toured today; Jesse, Jolly, Michael, and myself. We took the day off of recording to do this, so to see yet another one fail, my mood souring pretty quickly.

“What are you wanting it for?” Jackie wondered.

“An art studio.”

She shifted on her feet while clutching her iPad to her chest; the one she used to look up the dimensions and notes of the houses. “Mr. Sebastian, we can keep looking if you’d like, however, you’re asking for a little much in this area. I don’t mean to pry or speak out of turn, but it sounds like you’re asking for a risky property. Are you sure you need something of that magnitude if it’s only a few of you living here?”

My eyes narrowed as Jesse let out a low whistle. “I was very clear about what I wanted. I personally don’t believe I need to discuss the details of why I need it.”

“Of course, I apologize,” Jackie’s lips were pulled in a tight line. “It sounds like you’re asking for more out of pocket than what’s actually necessary.”

“With all due respect, don't tell me what you think is necessary. I want the home to be right, for all of us. And what I want and need is a space large enough for 2 studios and the master bedroom to be fully sufficient with space. The details don’t concern you. You either want our money or you don’t,” I finished with a shrug.

“My apologies, we will keep looking.”

While Jackie went about looking for another listing on her iPad, I turned towards the guys; Michael giving me a reassuring smile.

“Don’t stress too much about it, Noah. It’s only the second house.”

“Y/N’s art studio has to be next to my room, with the perfect lighting and easy cleanup. I don’t want her feeling uneasy if paint gets everywhere,” I said.

“Is this how you actually feel or is this your OCD talking?” Jesse wondered.

I rubbed my jaw. “No, no it’s not just about that shit. She needs to be comfortable where she doesn’t feel the need to be careful. Y/N needs to be able to be carefree and safe. Here. With me.”

Jolly rested a hand on my shoulder. “It will be fine, I promise.”

“I know,” I blew out a shaky breath. “I don’t want her to be unhappy here and give her a reason to walk out”.

“Noah, she’s gonna love this so much. Y/N isn’t going to just walk away from this. Not this time,” Jesse reassured me.

Feeling a little more at ease, I gave a slow nod. “Oh, we need a big window with a lot of light too. Salem loves to sunbathe.”

Michael snorted. “You say those three words and all of a sudden you become a cat dad.”

Damn straight.

With a plan to tour a few more houses in two days, we parted ways with Jackie and piled into Jolly’s car as he began the drive back to the rental house we were staying in the last week. Right before we arrived, however, my phone rang with a call from one of the reps at Sumerian.

“Oh boy,” I muttered while answering the call, setting it on speaker.

“Hey, guys! How’s it going? I see that you guys are busy recording. We love that!” Logan’s fake voice boasted through the phone.

Jolly and I shared a look in the rearview mirror and I nodded. “Yep. We’ve been working nonstop.”

“Well listen, we’re getting some push from the higher-ups, with everything going on and we know you guys have been working endlessly, the singles we’ve been approved to release are straight-up fire! However, we need something else. We need a hit. The radio push would be great for the band- exposure and all that. Think you can do it?”

“Yes,” I forced out through gritted teeth.

One thing I didn’t like was being told how to work and how to create my music.

“Awesome!” Logan cheered. “We’ll talk soon!”

Once the call ended, I tossed my phone in my lap and ran my hands down my face.

“Fuck, they’re pushing this radio shit. I don’t give a fuck about the radio, that’s not why we do this.”

“I know,” Jolly nodded while he took the turn to the familiar street. “But business calls. This is the unfavorable side. The question is, how are we going to magically write a hit in this short amount of time? We planned on releasing the album in a few weeks.”

“It’s easy, writing a modern rock song isn’t hard, Jolly.” I shrugged. “We’ve seen how many of the greats have done it. I have one just in mind.”

Jesse turned towards me from his spot in the passenger seat. “Are you going to pull out your Scott Stap voice?”

I smirked. “Fuck, maybe I will.

“You have to use that false bravado,” Michael smacked my arm.

I knew I could do this, I wasn’t attempting to sound cocky but, like I said many of the greats knew how this went down.

Business.

Fuck business

I feel it right into my bones that I’ve got more than it takes to make this work. I began humming random sounds, my facial expressions twitching, the cogs just continuing to turn. I had the perfect sound. It all came to me like a gust of wind.

When you resonate your mind with your soul, you will learn to live through a love that is so honest it is raw. There was another risk with a song like this; with writing like this.

I needed to get it out of me.

NOAH

I sat outside on the deck of the rental house, the fresh morning air was crisp but fine enough to wear a sweater; the heat of the sun warmed the skin of my face. Salem lay stretched out on the warm wood of the deck, his black fur shining with the rays of the sun.

“Don’t tell Mom I didn’t put your harness on,” I pointed to him

I realized early on that Salem wouldn’t run, curious as he was, he always stayed by one of us.

My laptop was set up on the table in front of me, the Zoom app idling as it waited for the incoming call. With the stress of trying to come up with a radio hit in less than a few weeks, my anxiety was running rampant. Even though I had the song all laid out in my mind, it still scared me to finally put it out in the air for everyone to hear.

I texted Dr. Poulos if she had time for a few-minute chat, one she agreed with. Thankfully her prior appointment was also a Zoom meeting so she was able to hop right on another one with me.

Jolly appeared in the doorway leading outside, donning his leather jacket. The wind blew through the long strands of his hair as he nodded towards me.

“I’m heading to that newish coffee shop nearby. Did you want anything?” He asked.

“I could go for something,” I nodded while taking off the hood of my yellow sweater.

After I gave him my order, I noticed the way the corner of his lips curled before he turned to walk away.

“Try not to fall in love!” I called after him with a laugh.

Jolly froze and then looked over his shoulder. “Wh-what?”

“The coffee,” I smirked. “Try not to fall in love with it. I’m all open to something new but we like our usual.”

“Oh,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Right.”

With Jolly gone, my computer lit up with a new call from Dr.Poulos and I answered it with a faint smile.

“Good afternoon, Noah. How’s it going in the mountains?” She smiled wide at me.

“Uh, really great actually. We always like to find some kind of solace when we either write or record; it helps us mentally,” I answered while moving the screen to show her the mountains behind me.

“That’s wonderful to hear! Now, you mentioned something about your record label pushing for a radio hit?” Dr. Poulos adjusted her glasses.

I ran a hand through my hair while nodding. “Yeah. I have no problem with that; writing it. It’s been inside of me for a while now. I just don’t know what to call it. I keep putting that part off, pretending it’s already completed so it’ll name itself.”

“Can I be frank with you?”

“Of course,” I nodded.

Dr. Poulos took off her glasses and steepled her hands together underneath her chin. “What do you feel like you’ve been doing, Noah? You’ve mentioned the word pretend on and off for a while in our sessions. Is that what you’re doing? Pretending things are going well when internally you’re struggling to accept the status you’re at with y/n?”

My eyes snapped up from my keyboard to the screen. “What was that?”

“Pretending? Are you just pretending?”

Suddenly, it was as if I’d been hit with a metal baseball bat to the knee, knocking me to the ground below.

Something Y/N told me that night of the party. “I’m so tired of you pretending that you don’t have feelings for me.”

Just Pretend.

That’s all I ever do.

Dr. Poulos spoke again. “You said your label is pressuring you to write a hit. Have you given any thought about if that pressure and the pressure of wanting to be with Y/N romantically is almost conjoined?”

I pursed my lips while leaning back into my chair, giving this question a deep analysis; although the answer came to me almost instantly.

Yes.

NOAH

With a yawn, I held the steaming cup from the cafe in town as Salem and I walked out to the front porch, both of us opting to sit on the swinging chair this time. We had two days left in the rental house and I wanted to take full advantage of the peace that was held in the mountains.

Something that maybe in a few years, I’d look for with Y/N.

“Alright bud, ready to watch Mom’s interview?” I asked Salem as he got comfortable on my lap.

He purred loudly in my lap as I pulled up the live stream from the podcast that was interviewing not only Y/N but Joe as well. He was finishing up his performance of one of his songs and when the camera panned over to Y/N, who was smiling as she watched, my heart soared. She looked fucking breathtaking and my soul yearned to have her close to me again.

Soon.

“Mom looks beautiful,” I whispered to Salem, who didn’t bother to wake from his nap.

“That was phenomenal. We appreciate you being here with us.”

I didn’t miss how the interviewer kept his attention on Joe, not bothering to give praise to Y/N. With a scowl, I kept the video up while opening my text messages, and clicking on her contact. I got a glimpse of her phone in her lap so I knew eventually she would see the message.

Me: You look phenomenal, angel.

As I watched, I took a sip of my coffee, humming at the rich taste. I had to admit that this new coffee shop knew how to make a drink.

“Everyone online is begging me to ask you two this but what’s the dating situation? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you in the behind-the-scenes clips you guys post on Instagram. Everyone wants to know; are you two dating?”

I rolled my eyes with a groan, knowing that this question was bound to be asked. It’s always a common thing any time two artists of the opposite sex tour together. People see the great chemistry between them and automatically think they’re fucking. Now, I did see the videos on Hollow Souls Instagram account but to me, it looked like a group of friends having fun while on tour; harmless fun.

I trusted Y/N. She knew that.

Y/N crossed her legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”

A flood of endorphins rushed through me. The interview was important, but I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and fucking sexy Y/N looked. A few moments in my imagination and I’m released from the troubles of the upper brain, wanting so badly to be happy with her in a space where pleasure is king, and I couldn’t wait to stick my head between the legs of my queen.

“Fuckin tell him, angel,” I said while working out a new text to her.

Me: Tell him who’s boss, angel. You know who you belong to.

“See? Your mom is cool. Salem you should be watching this. No? Naps are important. I feel you,” I chuckled while scratching his head.

I felt a surge of pride in my chest when Y/N continued to stand up to the interviewer, not taking his shit questions.

“Video surfaced online that Trey was at the show a few nights ago and it looked like the two of you were having an intense conversation. Is there a chance he’s joining Hollow Souls again?”

My lips pulled in a low scowl as I saw a flash of pain behind Y/N’s eyes when she forced a smile before leaning forward with narrowed eyes.

“Here’s what we’re not going to do; we’re not gonna focus on my love life, or personal life. I make art, not headlines. I’m cool because I'm me, and my band is cool. The art is what’s the focus, not anything else. I do feel as if people need to understand that having a private life is my right. I don’t feel comfortable sharing every aspect. Like I said, I make art, not headlines.”

The interviewer tried to joke. “That’s a bold statement to make. It comes with the whole fame territory.”

“I refuse to allow this time in my life to be touched, tainted, or bastardized by anyone,” Y/N finished while crossing her arms over her chest.

All the heat rushed straight to my dick with the image of Y/N bossing me around like that so I sent her another text.

Me: Fuck I love when you put douchebags in their place. You’re so sexy, angel. Fuck. I’m going to think about you bossing me around all night.

I knew I succeeded when I noticed a red hue cross her cheeks and Y/N squeezed her legs together as she read my text.

As the interview continued, I began to sing lyrics that came out of nowhere. “I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face and not a day goes by where I don’t think I feel the same.”

Y/N’s soft voice brought my attention back to the interview.

“I’m becoming a very private person as of late so I don’t need to go into the personal aspects of my life. Just know I’m moving past things, and I’m very content. Dare I say happy with where the future will be.”

The interviewer nodded. “Fair enough. Would you say you’re hopeful for what the future will bring?”

With a bright smile, Y/N looked directly at the camera, her eyes staring directly into my soul, and winked.

“Oh yes, more than hopeful.”

Once the interview ended, I locked my phone and began to swing on the chair, every so often petting Salem. The sun was hiding behind an array of dark clouds, a storm was approaching; the perfect kind of weather to cuddle inside with the ones you love.

Or write a radio hit.

“I can wait for you at the bottom,” I hummed. “I can stay away if you want me to.”

Salem woke and looked up at me with bright green eyes.

“I can wait for years if I gotta, heaven knows I ain’t getting over you,” I hummed, this time louder.

My eyes bulged as I picked up Salem and ran back inside to where Jolly and Matt were lounging on the couch.

“They want their radio hit? Well, I’m going to fucking give it to them!” I smiled widely as they looked up at me.

Hours later after the song was written, all of us hung out in the living room of the rental house; Jesse and Michael playing pool, Folio on the phone with his girlfriend, Nicholas and Jolly working on the music for the new song. Matt and I were sitting on the couch together watching a movie, Salem perched on the back of the couch, resting his head on Matt’s shoulder.

Noticing it was nearing 10 p.m., I pulled out my phone to text Y/N only to realize she texted me already with four pictures attached.

Angel 🪽: You were bold to text me earlier like that, mochi, I could barely contain myself. Here’s a little payback. Hope you’re all flustered and bothered, whatever you’re doing I suppose will have to wait. Dream of me. I love you.

Clicking on the first picture, I nearly dropped my phone in my lap when the bright red lingerie graced my eyes.

Holy shit.

Y/N seemed to be in the bathroom of her tour bus as she posed in different positions showcasing the red lace teddy that hugged every inch of her marvelously. The color red did absolute wonders for her skin and I licked my lips, wanting to taste the valley between her breasts down her stomach to the sweet mound between her legs. The floral tattoo on her arm looked gorgeous as she held the phone out wide for the picture.

Tilting my phone away from prying eyes, I quickly sent four texts in a row to Y/N.

Me: Matt’s right next to me, angel. What if he saw this?

Me: fuck, my dick is throbbing right now but I can’t do shit about it. Consider this my karma.

Me: I can’t stop staring at the pictures. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful. A true definition of an angel.

Me: I’m going to call you in a little bit. I need to hear your voice. I need it.

My cock was aching in my joggers and I tried so hard not to make it noticeable as I shifted in my seat.

Matt peered over at me with a raised brow. “You good?”

I coughed. “Yep. I’m going to head to bed.”

All but jumping from the couch, I made my way upstairs towards my room but Jesse’s voice stopped me.

“You’re not bringing Salem? He always sleeps with you.”

Running a hand over my jaw. “I’m going to take a shower first then I’ll grab him.”

“Right after you look at those pictures Y/N’s sent you again,” Matt teased, not bothering to take his eyes off the television.

A low growl came from my throat as I pointed to him. “You didn’t see shit.”

He raised his hands in the air. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Bidding them goodnight with a nod, I took the stairs two at a time and then locked the door to my room. My skin felt a blaze, those images burned in my brain, and my cock was almost standing straight out as I peered down at it; a tent in my joggers.

Y/N texted me and I let out a shuddering breath as I read it, trying to compose myself for a minute.

Angel 🪽: I’m going to bed early tonight. Maybe we can talk on the phone tomorrow. I love you.

Even in my aroused state, my heart yearned for the one that held it and my soul in her hands.

Me: Fuck, I love you too angel. So fucking much.

Quickly shedding myself from my clothes I then positioned myself on the bed, my hair falling into waves against the pillow as I planted my feet on the edge of the mattress. My knees were up and spread wide as my cock stood straight up, little beads of precum oozing from the small slit. I took a finger and swirled it all around the sensitive part of my head.

“Fuck,” my hips bucked with the high amount of sensitivity.

My room was eerily quiet, too quiet for what I was about to do, so I turned on some music; more specifically Eyelids by Hollow Souls.

If she couldn’t be here with me physically, I needed to hear her angelic voice somehow.

I glanced at the pictures on my phone again, focusing on the one of Y/N sitting on the bathroom counter, her legs spread wide showcasing her sweet pussy that was barely covered behind the red lace, and her perfect tits were almost falling out at the top of the lingerie set. The sinister smirk on his lips told me she knew what I was going to do the second I was alone.

I was fucking obsessed with how that teddy looked on her; her knowing what the color red did to me. It was so sexy, all I wanted to do was take it off with my teeth. I imagined Y/N as she rode me while wearing this teddy and she shoved the panties in my mouth when I would moan too loud.

“Oh god,” I groaned while gripping my cock tight after pulling on the skin.

Her voice sang sweet words to me but all I could imagine was her leaning over me to drag her lips across my throat.

“You’re being too loud, Noah. We can’t risk the others hearing you.”

I could almost taste those panties soaked with her arousal and I halted my stroking for a second.

“Fuck! I have to improvise,” I leaned over the bed to rummage through my suitcase to find a thin sock.

I hesitated for a brief second. “Shit, am I really doing this just to help get me off?”

The image was still clear in my mind, Y/N riding my cock with her panties shoved in my mouth.

“Fuck it,” I stuffed the sock in my mouth and began stroking my cock faster this time.

I knew I wouldn’t last long, my orgasm burning low at the base of my spine and my stomach muscles contracted as I spread my knees wider apart. I lifted my hips off the bed when the grip around my cock was almost bruising, needing the slight pain to push me closer to release. One hand around my cock, the other holding my phone with the picture of Y/N, I supported my moans into the sock.

If I was being honest, Eros took hold of me. I couldn’t wait to be able to actually fuck Y/N again. I’d make love to her every night, no question. This evening, carnality took flight. I wanted to leave her shaking, crying, and clawing at my chest. Begging me to never stop.

“Oh gods, angel. I can’t wait to feel you again,” I moaned into the sock as I nearly dropped my phone when my orgasm was so close.

My grip was tighter and pace faster when I laid my legs straight out now, ready for pure euphoric bliss to drown me in waves.

I was completely blissed out and exhausted, but I needed this release. I tried harder to hold the phone up eventually losing grip of it as it clattered to the floor. With my free hand, I now grasped at the blanket beneath me when my orgasm finally ripped through me. Warm cum shot out on my hand and stomach as I rode out the aftershocks with muffled screams, the song ending right as I finished.

“That’s so good, Noah. So good for me,” Y/N’s soft voice cooed in my ear.

As I came down from my high, one thing was clear. I wanted Y/N imprinted in my mind as vividly as possible, not that her silhouette wasn’t always there already. I could feel my tongue involuntarily move in a wiper direction. Naturally envision grazing her insides with my warm, wet tongue.

NOAH

Folio came bounding down the stairs with a happy smile on his face. I raised a brow to him as I sat on the couch, strumming a few notes on the guitar.

“Where are you headed?” I asked.

“I’ve got a date with Michelle tonight. We’re going to Wingstop then head to the drive-in. It’s showing her favorite Cillian Murphy movie,” he answered while slipping into his leather vest.

“Taking the bike out?” Jolly asked from his spot at the computer as he paused mixing our current track.

“We’re going to have a picnic at the drive-in; there’s a nice area designated for this. Michelle has no idea. I’m planning on surprising her after she gets out of class by picking her up.”

“Good for you, man. I’m really happy that things are going so well for you,” Nicholas smiled.

“You guys don’t need me tonight, right?” He asked.

I shook my head with a smile. “No, go enjoy your night. We can't do much drum tracking here anyway. Tell Michelle we say hey.”

“WEAR A CONDOM!” Matt, who was sitting on the floor playing with Salem and his new batch of toys, yelled just before the door shut behind Folio.

While Jesse and Michael played a game of pool, I shifted my attention to the notebook on the coffee table. Tonight we had plans to record our new song but nerves were eating away at my insides. To become so raw and vulnerable in front of everyone as I poured my heart and soul out into the song gave me a bit of pause.

“You know what’s wild?” I asked suddenly.

“What’s that?” Jolly questioned while turning around in his chair.

“It’s crazy how everything always comes full circle, I guess. With our last record, I said, “writing songs instead of letters, 'cause I’m too afraid.”

“Have you written actual letters?” Matt questioned while lying on the floor with Salem, his head resting in the new bed I bought Salem.

“Sort of,” I shrugged while tapping the pen against my notebook. “More like entries to Y/N, I guess. I can’t write fucking letters to her knowing that there’s a chance they’d get lost and she’d never get them.”

I sighed while running a hand down my face. “The only way I know how to express how I feel is through music. I have these lines I keep repeating over and over; things I've said, things I haven't. I just need to make sure that when Y/N hears this song she knows how I truly feel.”

“Here we thought you were writing this song out of spite to the label, or poke fun at radio hits,” Jolly jokes.

“I don’t know what that means. They wanted a fucking hit so we’re going to give it to them.

Nicholas rubbed my shoulder. “She knows, Noah. You two say I love you every night.”

“I know but I need her to know how I feel deep down. How sorry I am for how everything went down the last few months. The fighting, Bailey, and not being who she needed when she needed me.”

The guilt about Bailey still lingered. The way Y/N’s face looked so broken when she found out about me sleeping with Bailey. I have a lot of regrets in my life and that was one of them. Y/N and I are in a good place but I couldn’t help but worry that she still wasn’t over what happened.

I couldn't risk any reason to have Y/N leave me again.

“The both of you have grown since then. You’re where you’re supposed to be right now and soon, when Y/N hears this song, she’ll never leave,” Michael reassured me.

Jesse agreed with a nod. “We’ve read the lyrics, Noah. It’s a great song.”

“It's not hard to guess what the true meaning behind the song is. You’ve been subconsciously working on it off and on for months.”

“Jolly-.”

He continued. “You both need to just make it official already. Your perfectionist nature and need to control everything is making this not so simple. You’re both so alike. You’re right there. You're saying I love you, call a spade a spade and ask her to be yours.”

I stared down at the socks on my feet. “If Y/N shows up to the album release event maybe I can officially ask her then.”

“Maybe?” Matt snorted. “What the hell do you mean, maybe? You’re looking for houses with an art studio and you’re saying maybe? Of course, she’ll be there.”

“You’ve done everything you’ve set your fucking mind to, Noah. Don’t let this be another thing you regret,” Nicholas said.

I wanted to let this song be the rock and holy anchor for her. Coming to terms from a healthier perspective.

New beginnings.

My vulnerability was laid out on paper. If anyone else needed to hear it it would be there for them. The message is there, you’d just have to find it.

The way travelers seek the stars at night.

With a deep breath, I tossed the notebook back onto the table, not needing it because I knew every single word of this song. So much so, I sang it in my sleep.

“Give me five minutes, I need to do something first,” I called over my shoulder as I walked towards the bathroom of the rental house.

Once inside, I pulled out my phone with a long sigh and worked out the long message.

Me: Hi angel. I know it’s not 10 o’clock yet but I felt the need to text you a little sooner. Shit has been weighing on me. I want to apologize for what I put you through. The miscommunication, the mind games, the confusion, and Bailey. I should never have brought her into any of our lives. It was a dark moment that I succumbed to and I’ll never forgive myself for using Bailey as a way to hurt you. It was never my intention. I was drunk the night I slept with her, not saying it’s an excuse, but it was a dark place in my life that I never want to go back to.

Blowing out a shaky breath, I hit send before working out another message.

Me: My apology is for not being better, for not getting here sooner, for not rescuing earlier or with greater strength; all I ask is that you forgive me for those transgressions. In those times I was doing the very best I could and loving you so very much all the time. I love you so much, Y/N. I’m hoping that with this, we’re starting clean. There’s been a lot of different phases of my life and I can’t be the best I can unless I make amends for everything wrong that happened between us. I love you.

As I waited for Y/N to reply, I sat on the counter in the bathroom and let my long legs dangle off, swinging with anticipation. I nearly dropped my phone when it buzzed in my hand.

Angel 🪽: hi mochi. Well, first I’ll say thank you. Thank you for communicating with me and apologizing. With the weeks we’ve been apart since I’ve been working on myself too. I forgive you. I accepted that while it did hurt me, you made a mistake. I want us to let go of the negative emotions and painful parts of memories.

For many years I had punished myself, feeling that if I forgave more fully then love would blossom; yet in truth, it had never been there at all. Things have changed. I want to be better too.

Forgiveness brings the liberty to love again and to heal the heart, soul, and mind. Thank you again, mochi. I love you too.

With a lighter heart full of so much love for Y/N, I hopped off the counter and nearly barreled through the door, clapping my hands loudly.

“Alright, let's record this hit!”

My heart was pounding as I stepped up to our makeshift booth, put on the headphones and shook out the nerves from my hands. Over time I learned how to shake the nerves from doing my vocal takes in front of others, and lose the embarrassment.

With our first two records, I tried to emanate vocals from other artists because I wasn’t confident in myself as a vocalist. Now, I wanted Y/N and everyone else to see that this was me; this record was Noah Sebastian and Bad Omens.

With Jolly and Matt's cue, I took a deep breath and started on the first verse.

“I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out? So will you wait me out or will you drown me out?”

Y/N’s face flashed in my mind at that first meeting; our first day on tour when I stepped off of my bus. She looked absolutely breathtaking with her long blonde hair blowing with the gentle breeze. Her toned legs were accentuated by the boots she wore and the ink of her Greek Gods tattoo on full display. The way her lips parted as I stole the breath from her longs with our first of many stolen glances.

I licked my lips, eyes fluttering shut as I let the first chorus rip through me with my cursive singing. “I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

I didn’t bother opening my eyes to see the other's reaction. I needed to stay in this place I found myself in; my soul screaming for Y/N’s.

“I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face and not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out? So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?”

We sat on the beach together, all those months ago, and Y/N continued to try and hide herself from me. She wore the faintest of smiles as she blew out a shaky breath when I lifted her chin with a knuckle.

"You shouldn't be with someone that drains your spirits. Drain the light from your soul, angel."

"It can't rain all the time."

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you. We'll try again. When we're not so different. We will make amends. 'Til then I'll just pretend,” my hand rested on the windows of the booth, nails digging into the glass as I continued to pour myself into this.

“Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

Y/N didn’t want to leave, I could see that in the way her movements slowed once she was dressed, almost as if she was buying time for me to say something that would change her mind. But she refused to meet my gaze.

"Angel, look at me. What's the matter?" I asked again.

"Nothing-," she began with a sigh.

"Then why won't you stay?"

I tried not to think back to the negative aspects of our night together. I always tried to remember the way her skin tasted or felt against mine. But every once in a while her face as she was seconds away from walking away from me came crashing into me without warning.

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

Still buried deep inside of Y/N, I rolled our bodies so now she was straddling me. Her hands sprawled over the tattoos that covered my chest and she leaned down to lick across the snake and apple on my neck. The noises I made, and my moans were so soft as Y/N’s hot tongue went up and down my neck. She grazed over my Adam's apple with her teeth and bit down. I shook underneath her and wrapped an arm around her back to bring her closer, burying my aching cock, deeper inside of her.

We felt the rush, the aching, burning blush. We surrendered to the touch. Y/N gave me a show. This was heaven in hiding.

I sucked in a large breath, ready for the crescendo of the song, and let every fucking feeling I have for my angel come out through me in a surge of passion and energy.

“We'll try again. When we're not so different. We will make amends. 'Til then I'll just pretend,” I nearly fell back into the booth as a lone tear fell from my eyes, quickly wiping it away.

Rain poured around us with the onslaught of the storm as Y/N pointed a firm finger at me. “You always just pretend that everything is fine when it’s not! Then you stand there and have the right to say I’m the pain in the ass? Fuck you, Noah! I’m so tired of you pretending that you don’t have feelings for me.”

With the last few lines of the song left, I envisioned the one memory that I remembered every morning when I woke and every night before I fell asleep; the same thought was always there at the end of it.

I am worthy.

“Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

“You what?” I urged while taking a step towards her.

Y/N wildly shook her head as her makeup ran down her face, staining her cheeks and neck in mascara.

“I-I can’t.” Y/N pressed her palm into her forehead.

“Yes, you can,” I licked my lips in anticipation. “Fuck, Y/N! YOU WHAT?!”

“I’m in love with you! Okay?! I fucking love you!

I tossed the headphones off of me to let out a deep breath and center myself once again, coming back to reality; not before one final memory flashed in my mind.

“Well, that’s what we do. We fight. You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you’re being a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99 percent of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2-second rebound rate, then you’re back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing!”

By now, the rain was a torrential downpour, branches of the trees swaying widely in the wind as the sky cracked loudly with lightning and thunder; it shook both Y/N and I to our bones.

“So what?” Y/N scoffed. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because I fucking love you, angel!” I blurted out.

NICK R

Holy shit.

I looked over towards Jolly, who also had a shocked expression on his face. We all just watched Noah pour his soul into a song, one that would typically take more than one vocal take to get right, but he was so confident in this song that he didn't stop once.

As soon as Noah stepped out of the booth, Salem trotted over to him and was swiftly picked up in his arms. “Did you like that, Salem? Do you think it was good enough?”

Matt snorted. For the record label, my ass.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed at him as he plopped down on the couch next to me. “I still feel like something is missing.”

Almost immediately as he sat, he nearly stumbled off of the couch as he reached for his phone on the table in front of him.

“It’s not ten o'clock yet,” Michael teased.

Noah flipped him off. “No, asshole. I need something from Bryan. There’s something I want to use from the video of our day at the pier. I want to bury Y/N’s voice in the track.”

I turned towards him when Salem decided to sit in my lap now. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Do you think she’ll notice?”

“No. Because nobody is going to know what this record truly is or who it’s about. It’s not their business. I’ve got it all worked out in my head.”

We could all see the bags under Noah’s eyes since he stayed up all night the previous night writing this song, making sure it was perfect.

“You should also get some sleep. We can figure this out tomorrow,” Jolly suggested.

Noah immediately shook his head. “No.”

“Noah-,” Jesse started.

“Let me fucking do this, guys. Please. I need this,” he almost begged, his voice quiet.

Eventually, I nodded. “Alright. This is your song, man. If you want to do it, go for it.”

He smiled while throwing his hair in a low bun and turned towards Matt, shaking his phone. “Bryan sent over the audio. Think you can mix it?”

Matt held a hand to his chest and had a faux hurt expression. “Is my dear Noah doubting my mixing abilities?”

As the two of them along with Jolly began working on mixing the audio to bury it in the track, I had my own agenda. Salem looked up at me with curious eyes as I began typing widely on my phone.

“Your uncles better be cool with this idea because if not, I don’t know how else I’ll be able to pull it off,” I muttered to the cat.

Me: This new song Noah just recorded is heavy. We need to plan something to finally get their asses in gear and stop the bullshit.

Chase: I’m down.

Malcolm: You don’t even have to ask me twice. What are we thinking?

While I worked out the plan with them, Michael spoke from his spot in the kitchen as he grabbed a round of drinks for all of us; non-alcoholic for Noah since he recently started his sober journey.

“Does this masterpiece have a name?”

Noah leaned back in his chair, hands resting behind his head, and smiled wide. “Just pretend.”

I raised a brow. “Just pretend?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, cuddling the blanket closer to his chest that he had wrapped around himself.

“I love it,” Jolly admitted. “It’s perfect.”

Noah smiled, bumping fists with him. “Thank you, I think so too.”

NOAH

I stood in the middle of the large bedroom, mind running a mile a minute as I envisioned how the space would look. Jolly, Jesse, and Michael stood behind me as we all decided together that this place was perfect. It was our new home.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” Jolly started as he walked around to face me.

My brows furrowed. “Do you guys not like this house? I know it is a bit out of our price range but it’s worth it, I think. It has enough bedrooms for all of us and the two studios.”

Jesse chuckled. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” I breathed while scratching my cheek. “I’m just nervous that this might be too good to be true. This place is perfect and if we don’t get it, I don't know how long it will be until the next one comes up; if it does.”

“Stop thinking of all the negatives and for once, think of all the positives. Like how you get the master suite.”

I snapped my head towards Michael. “What?”

The three of them nodded and Jolly spoke again. “It’s only fair, Noah. The three of us don’t need this big of a bedroom and knowing that Y/N will be over a lot, it’s only fair the two of you get as much privacy as you can get.”

“Also helps that this room is on the main floor while ours are upstairs,” Michael joked.

I playfully pushed him. “Thank you guys. I love the optimism but we don’t even know if our offer was accepted.”

We’d been back home for the last few days, finally finishing recording the new album, and while touring a couple more houses, we fell in love with the one we were currently standing in and immediately put in an offer.

Enough bedrooms, a large window in the living room for Salem to lay in front of, a decent-sized backyard with a jacuzzi, and the art studio that was right next to the master suite. It had a large window that showcased the small creek that ran along the side of the house. And hardwood floors throughout the entire house.

Not to mention, the privacy of the neighborhood was a huge bonus.

A soft knock sounded on the door of the empty master bedroom and we all turned toward Jackie who had a wide smile on her face.

“Great news! The sellers accepted your offer. Now while we do have to wait for the bank to accept the sale, I want you guys to remain optimistic. Typically this kind of thing takes a while so I don’t want you to stress out.”

Jolly gave me a sideway glance, one that I ignored. I was too fucking over the moon with excitement. Our offer was accepted and we were one step closer to finishing this part of our new phase.

Three weeks later, we closed on the house and were moving in with hopeful hearts. The guys stayed true to their words and allowed me to take the master suite, which currently seemed bare with my desk and computer setup, and the long table on the opposite wall as it peered out to the window, the flowing creek the only thing Y/N would see whenever she sat there. I decided that a new bedroom called for a new bed; a bigger one. It would be delivered in a few days along with a few other things I ordered. I bothered Chase and Malcolm with ideas for days.

Me: Do you guys think this table will be big enough?

I sent a link to yet another vanity I found online.

Chase: Noah, this is the 4th vanity table you’ve shown us.

Me: And?

Malcolm, dude you have to relax. It’s perfect. Way better than the small suitcase she uses to hold every one of her products now.

Me: well with me, she’ll never have to.

Later on that day, I received another text from Chase.

Chase: Noah, beware of paint all over the carpet.

I snorted as I typed out my response.

Me: Already taken care of.

Chase: Good. Because even though I love her to the ends of the earth, paint is a fucking bitch to clean.

Me: Here’s the address. I would love it if you and Malcolm come check it out.

Chase: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?

Jesse and Michael gave me shit any chance they could get about obsessing over a vanity table.

“Y/N does her own makeup. No one else does it for her so I need a spot for all of it.” I said while we browsed Ikea the other day.

Michael tossed a new blanket into the cart I’d been pushing. “Damn, you really got it all figured out. I never thought I’d hear you ever say you need space for a vanity.”

“That was before I ever cared. I just wanna make sure she has her own space. That’s all,” I defended while setting a cat tree into the cart.

Jessed raised a brow, one I shrugged at. “Salem needs one for our place.”

“I bet you cried your eyes out when you dropped it back off at Y/N’s place this morning.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored Micahel and continued down the long aisle of kitchen ware.

“It’s going to all work out, Noah. This is a lot, especially when you’ve never done this before. I mean, we’ve been a fraternity for a long time if you think about it,” Jolly said.

“Yeah, I know. But you guys know me, I’m in my head over the smallest things. This is a big deal. I don’t want to give her a reason to say no.”

Jesse rubbed my shoulder. “She won't, Noah. It’s going to be awesome so don’t stress about this.”

Letting out a deep breath, I set aside the screwdriver and paused building the new end table to run my palms over my white star shorts. I’ve talked to everyone in my life about this but neither of them gave me peace of mind the way I needed.

Clearing my throat, I spoke out to the space in front of me.

“Uh, hey Keaton,” I now rubbed the fresh tattoo on the sides of both of my hands, tracing each letter. “It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our talks but life has been a bit chaotic.”

“We moved into a new house. Orie moved in with his girlfriend and we decided the rest of us needed a new place ourselves. A fresh start, if you will. A new phase for all of us.”

I sniffled but kept the tears at bay. “Y/N and I are, well I don’t know what I would call us but we admitted our feelings for each other. We say I love you every night but the unknown of what we are still lingers and it fucking scares me to death not knowing if she’ll stay. I’m trying to do everything right to make sure she does. I can’t handle her walking out of my life again, Keaton.”

Now running my hand through my hair, my bottom lip wavered. “I need a sign from you, man. I need to know that Y/N will stay. That all of this won’t be too much for her.”

The eerie silence of the house was all I heard until seconds later, the Alexa device on my desk began playing a song; one I never expected but ended up smirking at. Memory Fiction by Erra echoed throughout my room and I shook my head with a laugh.

“You would choose one of Jesse’s songs,” I wiped away a few stray tears. “Thanks, Keaton, I know we’ll talk soon.”

I sat on the floor, letting Jesse’s words resonate deep within my bones. Y/N and I were reaching out towards the next phase of ourselves, autonomous from what connected us.

When the song ended, the silence didn’t last long because there was a knock on my open bedroom door and when I hastily stood, I gave Chase and Malcolm a soft smile.

“Hey, I’m glad you guys could make it,” I waved them inside.

“Jesse just gave us the tour. It’s a nice place. I’m glad it worked out,” Chase said.

I nodded. “Thanks. I wanted to make sure you guys gave me the okay. I don’t plan on rushing into things with Y/N. She can stay here as many nights as she wants. I just want to make sure she has a home here with her and Salem.”

I motioned to the table. “Do you think this is big enough for all of her products? I want her to have space for it and all her skull nick-nacks and Valak Funko pop. She’d get that demon tattooed on her if she could”.

Chase agreed with a boisterous laugh.

I pointed to another window that I placed another table in front of moments before they arrived; this one smaller than the vanity.

“I thought that she could use this space for her plants. I know she’s obsessed with them. Honestly, she could turn our room into a fucking jungle for all I care. As long as she was here with me.”

Malcolm had a hand over his heart. “Noah, this is great. Y/N loves you. You could have bought a studio apartment and she’d still make it a home.”

I agreed with a slight curl of my lips. “Because she’d be there.”

NOAH

I blew out a nervous breath as I stepped through the front door, clutching the bag tightly in my hand and when three sets of eyes landed on me, I halted in place. I was unsure of how they would react to this since I didn’t tell them where I was going when I left a few hours ago.

Jesse was the first to speak with an approving nod. “Well hello, my friend.”

“Don’t start,” I pointed a finger at him.

Jolly stopped as he carried the high stack of towels, ready to put them away in the linen closet upstairs when he took in the sight of me. “Woah, I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I got tired of not seeing my neck. It was still suffocating.”

“It’s different seeing you like this,” Michael said as he lounged on our new couch.

The couch I spent years yearning for and imagining what it would look like.

“You think Y/N will still find me attractive like this?” I asked while shifting on my feet.

Jesse's eyes widened. “Are you dumb?”

“No, I’m just a little worried she won’t find this appealing. I mean, I love it. But you know, I don’t want her to be repulsed.”

“Noah, stop thinking that,” Jolly spoke. “Stop worrying, you look sharp and fierce. It's a great look. And last I heard she gave herself a little makeover too.”

My eyes snapped up from the floor towards him. “She did?”

“Yeah,” he smiled before heading up the stairs.

I couldn't stop the smirk that spread to my face. “Damn, maybe we can be all mysterious and unveil at the release party. She’s going, right?”

“Nick said he texted her about it weeks ago. Y/N will be there,” Jesse patted my shoulder for reassurance.

Now in the solace of my bedroom, I stood in front of the full-length mirror that was in the walk-in closet and admired how I looked. St. Patrick by Hollow Souls played from the Alexa speaker and I nodded my head along to it, amping me up on how the final look came together.

“And I’m not spiritual but please stay. ‘Cause I think you’re a saint and I think you’re an angel,” I sang along quietly.

I took a step back from the mirror but something felt wrong; off. I was missing something.

Opening the small drawer in front of me, I rummaged through the small variety of jewelry, knowing that once Y/N had her own pieces in here it would become filled until I found the two pieces I was looking for.

The silver chain and bracelet shined under the light overhead and I ran a finger over it, remembering the day I gave Y/N her matching set.

She opened the box as a gasp left her lips, the silver necklace and matching bracelet shone under the light of the room. It wasn't anything over the top and there were no diamonds but that didn't matter to her. She wasn't one for over-the-top jewelry, this simple chain and bracelet were enough.

With wet eyes, Y/N gazed up at me as I nervously fiddled with my rosary. "Do you like it?"

She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into her embrace, burying her face into his neck. "I love it, Noah. Thank you so much."

With the bracelet and necklace now clasped onto my body, my look was complete. My fingers worked through the curtain-style bangs. The long fringe was paired with a middle part, a 3-guard short side.

“The Levi Ackerman haircut. I wonder if anybody will catch the reference. I’m a nerd,” I chuckled at myself in the mirror

Earlier, I left the Harley Davidson shop with a new outlook; the oil-slick leather gloves in the bag. I was excited for the new era of myself and Bad Omens. I was ready for the new phase for what it was, what I’ve conjured in my mind.

The power of visual aesthetics to convey emotions and enhance the overall experience of the music. The glove serves as a physical extension of my artistic vision, adding an element of mystique and intrigue to this persona I've created. Allowing me to create a distinct identity and connect with the audience on a deeper level.

I stared at myself in the mirror taking it all in. Completely engulfed in the Yohji Yamamoto coat and cargo pants. I spritzed Sauvage, opening the turtleneck I was wearing for the liquid to drip down my chest. It was snug in some areas, but all the same showed off the physicality of my dedication, as of recent.

I look good.

I reached into the coat pocket for my phone eager to show Y/N but stopped myself from taking the photo.

No, leave it as a surprise.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

271 notes · View notes

oleander-nin · 11 months

Note

Yandere rottmnt Donnie & Yandere rottmnt Leo.

Action prompt: 21- Donnie and Leo are chasing m/c after they make an escape attempt.

Verbal prompt: 21- said by either Donnie or Leo. Donnie or Leo say the line after recapturing m/c.

Mood: Not too dark or angsty, but not comforting either.

A/N, not important: I'm exhausted and a bit mentally drained, so I'm sorry if this isn't very good. I tried to even it out, but I'm not sure it worked. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: kidnap mentioned, arguing, breaking leg, needles, chasing, yandere, dark themes, bad writing

Words: 3389

Prompt(s) requested: 21a(Chase) & 21v("You can't run from my love.")

Summary: Donnie and Leo argue a lot, maybe you could use it to your advantage.

I lean against the wall I was tied to in annoyance, frustration bubbling in my chest as I watch the two argue. They had been going like this for hours, and it was starting to get more irritating than frightening. I roll my shoulders, trying to fix the discomfort I felt. I watch as Donnie clenches his fists at his side, his eyes narrowed while he stares down the slider in pajamas. “It’s MY night Leo! We agreed to the schedule, so we have to stick with it!”

Leo groans, leaning back against the wall dramatically. He pouts, trying to make his eyes

go big and doe looking to appeal to the empathetic side of his unimpressed brother. "But you got them all day yesterday!” Leo whines as he sinks down the wall. Donnie glares at his older brother, his face twitching. “It’s only fair I get them tonight!”

“It’s not my fault you broke dad’s favorite mug yesterday. I just kept them company while you were out finding a new one. It is fair.” Donnie’s face holds no sympathy for the slider, simply staring down his brother. Leo avoids Donnie’s gaze, staring at me instead. I shrink a bit, the metal rattling while I wilt under his watchful eyes. Leo frowns, his cheek sucking in as he chews on it in thought. I watch them both, staying quiet. I wasn’t sure what to do. I just wanted to leave. I had been here in the lair for months, and it was always the same. I was tired of being chained as they argue. I was tired of being hurt. I wanted to see my family. I wanted to go home.

Donnie’s words make Leo huff again and they both continue their arguing, Donnie stomping his feet with each word that comes out of Leo’s mouth. Despite Leo’s nonchalant nature, it was clear he was getting frustrated as well. Their words got louder and the arguing got more physical, Donnie looking as if he was about to strangle his older brother. I turn my head to the door, the heads of the oldest and youngest brothers looking through the door. Mikey smiles gently at me, waving. I scowl, looking away from him. He acted like he cared but I knew he would turn me over in a heartbeat if he caught me trying to leave. No one here cared about Leo and Donnie’s problem, their behavior written off as nothing more than teenagers doing dumb stuff. My life being written off as nothing more than an afterthought, my person being written off as nothing more than a toy for the slider and softshell to break.

Raph wasn’t much better than Mikey, but at least he didn’t pretend to care about me. I refused to trust either, their loyalty was to their brothers despite the heroes they claimed to be. Neither Donnie nor Leo notice Raph walking in, annoyance on his face. I watch in slight amusement as Raph picks up the arguing brothers and shakes them slightly, making them both shut up.

“Why are you yelling!? It’s one am in the morning!” Raph’s voice was a harsh whisper, his face painted in tired anger. It was clear he was trying his best to stay quiet, not wanting to wake up their sleeping father. I watch Mikey leave, slipping away from the door where he was standing. I don’t blame him. I would have loved to leave too. I finger the chains around my ankles, watching Raph yell at his younger siblings. The arguments were common, but always terrifying. It was rare Raph stepping in soon enough to stop the two from getting violent. Hopefully now was one of those times.

“Donnie won’t let me have (Y/n) tonight!” Leo complains, crossing his arms as he glares at the softshell. Raph rolls his eyes, not finding Leo’s reason good enough for the loud argument they were having.

“Tonight’s my night! We agreed on a schedule!” Donnie’s retort makes Raph shake them both again, the younger turtles quieting.

“How about this,” Raph starts, tired frustration seeping into his voice. “You both sleep with them tonight. In the living room. Then you both get them and it’s not a problem.” Raph sets them down after he says his part, clearly expecting them to listen and agree.

“Scoff, why do you get to decide?” Donnie says, frowning while he crosses his arms over his chest. His forehead wrinkles in the place of his eyebrows, the scaly skin knitting together. I watch silently, trying my best to not draw any attention to my person in case they try to make me choose. That happened once before, and the anger of the one I didn’t pick was enough to make me know to never choose favorites again. Donnie pokes Raph, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not the leader anymore. Leo is.”

Donnie seems to immediately regret his words as Leo grins brightly. They turn their backs to me, a sigh of relief leaving my chest. Leo swings an arm over Donnie’s shoulder, a smug grin on his face. “You’re right, mi hermano! I am the leader. And as leader, I get (Y/n) tonight.”

Raph scowls at them both, separating the arguing brothers by grabbing the back of their shells and lifting them into the air. Leo bonks Donnie on the head and sticks his tongue out while Donnie tries to bite at his hand, Raph glaring at them both. “Both of you get (Y/n) tonight or neither of you get them. And leadership only matters during missions, not petty arguments. I’m the oldest, my word is final.” The threat is evident in Raph’s voice, his usually soft tone a dangerous growl. His anger was starting to boil over at his two middle brother’s nonsense, tired of their night time squabbling.

Both turtles quiet down at his threat, grumbling quietly. Donnie crosses his arms, rolling his eyes as he looks back over at me. “Fine, we’ll sleep in the living room.”

Raph eyes the younger turtles suspiciously before nodding, putting them back down. He watches closely as Leo moves over to me, carefully unchaining my binds while Donnie looks stunned, grumbling at his blue-coded brother. “What are you doing?”

Leo glances at the genius, holding up the chains and waving it at him. "Untying them? What does it look like?"

Donnie’s frown deepens, moving to try and push Leo off. Raph takes a step forward in warning, both younger turtles stilling for a moment. I immediately try to stand when the chains fall, but Leo grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder so I bend at the waist. I groan in discomfort, the lip of his shell digging painfully into my stomach. Raph steps out of the way, tilting his head towards the door to signal their leave.

Leo sticks his tongue out at Donnie in triumph, much happier with the arrangement than his genius of a brother was. Donnie grumbles as he follows, looking at me as Leo carries me into the living room. A flash of emotion crosses Donnie’s eyes, one I can’t quite place. His scaly hand cups my face, thumb rubbing my cheek as he seems to inspect me. I try to shrink back slightly, but his grip on my face tightens as Leo and Donnie walk. Donnie mumbles something under his breath before pulling his hand back, watching unimpressed while Leo shoves blankets onto the floor.

Leo sets me down on the nest of blankets, throwing another over me before I hear his feet pad away to his room. I pull the blanket off my head, flinching back slightly when I see Donnie’s face right in front of mine. I hesitate for a moment, his blank face close to my own. I lean back a tab, trying to put space in between us both. Donnie frowns, kneeling in front of me and grabbing my hands. I freeze, glancing in between his hands and his face in worry. The softshell notices the way I tense, his hands flipping mine over and gently massaging my palms. I look at him, not sure how to react.

Donnie looks into my eyes, his hands yanking me towards him by my wrists. I fall against him, trying to push myself off, grimacing as I feel the softshell’s arms wrap around me and hold me tight. I wince when I feel his face near mine, his cheek pressed into my own. “You were supposed to be mine.”

Donnie’s words send a chill down my spine, my hands continue to press on his shoulders while I try to escape. Donnie huffs, frowning at my struggle. He squeezes me in warning, a small kiss pressed to my temple. I stop moving, sighing in defeat. My head perks up when I hear Leo’s feet padding through the room, his arms full of blankets and pillows. I see the scowl on his face when he notices how close Donnie held me, how tight his arms were around me. Leo drops the blankets next to the nest, reaching down and hooking a finger in the collar of Donnie’s pajamas. Donnie glares at the slider, using an arm to try and bat Leo away.

With the opening he created, Leo hooks an arm around me and yanks me out of Donnie’s grip. The blue-coded mutant lays down while hugging me close to his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. Donnie grumbles, but lays down on the spread of blankets as well, looking sourly at his older brother.

The two turtles continue to fight as they hold on to me, their whispered threats growing louder by the second. I grimace, Leo’s arms tightening around my midsection as he harshly tugs me closer to him. Donnie retaliates by pushing Leo’s face into his shell, tugging me closer to himself by my arm. Their voices grow louder as I close my eyes, grimacing. Donnie’s whispered shout makes me wince, his voice closer to my ear than I would ever want. “Let go! You’re hogging them!”

Donnie’s words make me frown. I hated being treated as nothing more than a stuffed toy and I was worried one of them might hurt me during their tug of war. They never seemed to care much for my well being, both claiming to ‘love’ me, but neither interested in me unless they can rub it in the other's face. Leo sticks a tongue out at his brother, his grip tightening more around my midsection. “You’re just mad they want to be closer to me.”

I did not, in fact, want to be closer to either of them. I try and wiggle out of their tight hold, both of them going still at my movement. Donnie shoots me a glare while Leo rests his chin on my shoulder, grinning down at me. “Where you trying to go, wiggle worm?”

Donnie and Leo both grip me closer while waiting for my answer, neither moving their staring eyes from my own. I open my mouth to stay something, my hair raising on end from the adrenaline that started to pump through my veins, my mouth dry. I sigh in relief when Raph's loud voice booms through the lair instead, Leo and Donnie recoiling slightly. "I can still hear you!"

Leo sighs dramatically, hooking one leg over mine as he settles down some. Donnie huffs rolling his eyes, but also settles down. Neither seemed interested in fighting anymore, fatigue and exhaustion shining through their faces. Leo presses his face into my neck, a shiver going down my spine while I gag slightly. His skin was rough, his plastron pressing harshly into my back from his grip.

Donnie wasn't much better, but he wasn't as attached to me. His hand gripped mine, his three fingers laced with my five as laid on his side, silently staring at me. I look at him, not sure what to make of his relentless stare. He says nothing, choosing to just squeeze my hand gently before closing his eyes.

I hear Leo's light snores behind me, his chest rumbling slightly as he sleeps. My breath hitches slightly as I feel Leo’s grip loosen in his sleep, excitement and hope growing in my chest. Would I be able to get away while they slept? My eyes move to Donnie’s figure, waiting for his breathing to slow, for him to indicate that he was asleep. If they were both asleep, could I get away? The only thing keeping me down was their holds on me, and Leo was a deep enough sleeper for me to slip out. Hopefully. It was Donnie I had to worry about. After being here for so long, I had learned their sleeping patterns, learned their habits. When Leo went to sleep, he slept long and deep. He wasn’t the hardest to wake, but he was slow to do so. He never stirred at soft movements, his brain too at ease to wake him immediately.

Donnie however was usually drunk on caffeine, coffee running through his veins instead of blood. The caffeine made him jittery, easily startled. He claimed it didn’t do much, but the effect was obvious. Especially when it was paired with multiple all-nighters. Donnie had already drank enough coffee to supply a village and hadn’t slept yesterday. He would wake easy, his body on edge as it tries to recuperate while he sleeps. I was glad he wasn’t as clingy, wasn’t as touchy. If he was wrapped around me the way Leo was, I would never be able to even consider leaving. But he wasn’t, being too overwhelmed to do any more than hold my hand. I smile softly, closing my eyes in case he checks on me as his mind tries to calm. I could wait.

***

It takes a few hours, my mind running slow as sleep fights my will to leave. My brain tries to coax me into a slumber, my adrenaline fighting with my fatigue. Donnie’s breathing had finally slowed, his grip had finally slipped. I carefully slip my hand out of his own, chewing on my cheek from the anxiety. I pause when his face twitches, his eyelid spasming slightly. I wait a moment, watching closely before continuing. He stills once more, a quiet breath coming from his chest.

I take my now free hand and carefully roll my shoulders, loosening the blue sleeping turtles grip even more. His arm falls at his side, a loud snore escaping him. He shifts in his sleep at my movement, falling to the side and now laying on his back. I almost cry in relief, completely free from his grasp. I carefully push myself up, sitting on my knees as I pop my back. I look down at them both, completely unbelieving of my luck. I stand up, making as little noise as possible as I back up. I watch them both, all exhaustion leaving my body, quickly being replaced by pure euphoria. I was free. I could run. And so I did.

Moving quickly, I start to make my way out of the lair. I dodge the furniture and strewn about objects, trying to stay as quiet as possible. My feet thud quietly and I wince, my walk turning into a run as I continue. The subway the Hamato’s claimed as their lair was large, my hands shaking slightly as I look for the exit. I never used it. I wondered if I could even find it.

My blood runs cold as I hear Leo shout, his voice panicked. I run into the garage, relief flooding me when my eyes land on the large opening that leads to stairs. Stairs that lead to a tunnel. A tunnel that leads to light. Light that means freedom.

My legs pump as I dash up the stairs, crashing and yells sounding behind me. Neither had entered the garage, neither knew where I was yet. I had the advantage. I push myself to go faster, my heart hammering in my chest. My brain muted the world, my vision tunneled on the stretch of concrete in front of me. I ran and ran, dodging the hand that sticks out of the bright blue portal. My heart nearly stops when I see more portals dot the tunnel, Leo and Donnie appearing out of one. I dodge Leo’s outstretched arms, run from Donnie’s spider-esque claws. Warning bells thundered through my head as my face went ashen, Donnie and Leo yelling words I couldn’t understand.

I avoid their uncoordinated attacks, running as fast as I can. I don’t notice them stopping, don’t notice the way Leo grabs Donnie's shoulder, the way they start to plan. I skid to a stop when the tunnel shines bright blue, a large portal covering the entire length of the tunnel. My blood rushes to my head at my sudden stop, my heart loud in my ears.

Two hands land on my shoulders, the cool metal of Donnie’s claws sting my wrist. I take a step back, thrashing in their grip. Leo’s arms wrap around me, lifting me slightly in the air. His hold is tight, his plastron pressed firmly to my back once more. Donnie enters my vision, his face a hard stare. Leo’s chin rests on my shoulder as I shake, still thrashing around in his grip. Donnie grunts in pain when my foot makes contact with his chest, trying to push the turtle back. Donnie grips the limb in hand, his grip harsh around my ankle. I try to yank my foot back, yelling incoherently at the two. Donnie looks behind me, Leo’s chin pressing further into my shoulder in a quick nod.

I struggle for a moment more before a sharp pain erupts from my ankle, a scream ripped from my chest. Donnie drops my broken ankle, moving closer to cup my chin. Leo's chest rumbles against my back as he laughs, tears starting to well in my eyes from the agony Donnie caused. His hand grabs my chin, holding my face in place. He glares into my eyes, his face set in a cold anger. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

Donnie’s statement brings a snort from me, the pain and anger mixing together into a defiant. Leo grips me tighter, nuzzling his face into the nape of my neck. “Plans change.” I grit out, my ankle still throbbing. I do everything I can not to cry out in pain when Donnie reaches down and squeezes the damaged ankle.

“You can’t run from our love,” Leo states, anger bleeding into his otherwise cheerful voice. He was holding back his anger, trying to not lash out. He squeezes tightly once more in warning before loosening his grip a small amount. “You can’t run from us.”

Donnie rolls his shoulders before a long metal arm appears from his battle shell, a small needle on its end. I start thrashing again, screams and shouts escaping me. Donnie forcefully tilts my head to expose more of my neck, Leo whispering small nothings into my ear as he holds me still. I try to kick Donnie again, panicked shouts and cries reverberating around the concrete walls. The needle seamlessly enters my skin, injecting whatever Donnie had into my veins. I let out a strangled cry as the needle pulls back out, Donnie nodding in satisfaction.

My limbs grow heavy as my eyes start to close, trying my best to fight the injection. Donnie and Leo start talking, my brain too heavy in my head to understand. My head hangs low, Leo shifting me in his grip until he holds me between both arms, one arm at the back of my knees and the other across the back of my shoulders.

My head falls limply on his shoulder despite my desperate attempts to pick it back up, to fight the sleep rapidly taking over my person. A flash of blue shines through my barely opened eyes, the turtles taking me back to the lair once more. I feel a small peck on my forehead before my body gives out, the serum winning over my will. A last flood of anxiety fills my veins when my eyes close, my heart never quitting its endless hammer. My captors smile as I finally sleep.

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not-a-big-slay · 1 year

Text

The boys' love languages

The Bad Batch x gn!reader

i am mentally unwell, i need this

warnings: mentions of crosshair on kamino in his part, mentions of having insecurities in echo's and wrecker's part

a/n: this fic is gender neutral, but because i fantisized myself there, its possible i did a mistake somewhere, so please, if you see some, point it out <3

‎

Hunter

main love language: acts of service

other: physical touch

Hunter's love language is definitely acts of service

he is such a fuckin gentleman

he offers you a hand whenever you go out of the ship or inside

or if you fall, his hand would be the first thing you'd see

also, he is soo protective of you

whenever there's danger he will put his hand on your lowerback to reassure you that he is there

and if you have some undercover thing, he will stay as close to you as possible if the place is unsafe

god forbid you get hurt bc that's when he's truly worried

he tries to stay calm when it's a little wound or a scratch, but when you go unconsious or lose blood BOI DOES HE FREAK OUT

he will stay by your side 24/7 or how long it's needed, bringing you meals and doing everything you desire

and when you're sick he will be making some good ass soup that they gave them on Kamino whenever they had a cold (assuming they did)

and he lets you sleep BY THE WALL, bravely facing the demons and protecting you from them

he also loves when you try to protect him, even though you're smaller and definitely not as skilled, but it still means a lot to him

it warms his heart when you hear some loud noise and put your hand in front of him

he does the same thing by instinct so you both just smile when your hands bump on their way to protect

his second love language might be physical touch

he is the big spoon but won't complain when you wrap your hands around him sometimes

my bro asks for consent once on a specific thing and then not again, if you don't feel like it at the moment, a simple not now or no is all that's needed

then he will ask again after a while

you also have to ask for consent (i mean obviously), Hunter loves touch, but sometimes enough is enough and something's may be too far for his sensitive sense

but it goes both ways: you ask once for specific thing

forehead kisses and hugs from behind is his morning routine and at this point, it's more frequent than breakfast

if you don't get one or the other in the morning, it feels uncomftortable, and you know something is wrong

he doesn't do PDA

not that he hates it, his mind is just in a different place in public, as yall go outside mostly because of a mission

but once on the Maraurder, Hunter takes a nap with you and cuddle if you're down

and you are, everytime

Tech

main love language: gift giving/receiving

other: quality time

tech's love is told by many useless small gifts, but you cherish them for ever

he gives you wire bracelts, metal ring, everything he finds useless remade into something either wearable or hangable

how better to express his love when he fixes a lot of things and sees these things daily

you always wear them, even though you have a lot of rings from him now, you always change them so he feels loved and validated

that doesn't mean he only likes giving gifts to you, he also loves when you give him something yourself

you don't make gifts like he does, lacking the skill he obviously has, but you find lots of different stuff on missions and you so far brought him an old antic vase, cute shiny stones and a small crystal

he is also taking care of a plant you gave him, anxious it might be poisonous, but he reassured you it's not (although you knew he might be lying to not hurt your feelings, so you keep an eye out when Omega gets too close to it)

you used to bring him bracelets and rings, but Tech noticed they are quite expensive and realized you stole most of them, so he forbid it

yet you sometimes do and proceed to lie about where you got it (he knows you are lying, but he loves your stubborness so much he lets it slide)

Tech doesn't give you presents that often, but only because he worry it would tire you, so he keeps it special that way

and when he'll be sure about marriage, he will propose with one of his homemade rings

his other love language might be quality time

Tech loves to talk a lot about his work and random knowledge he posseses, so he needs someone to listen

luckily, you will always be there (luckily for him and for the others when they realized they don't need to pretend interest anymore)

you listen to him talk about his day and he sometimes teaches you basic coding or repairs

and you're not like his brothers, you actually listen and ask interesting questions he more than gladly answers

he likes to hear you talk about your interests as well, listening to every word coming out of your mouth

because he learns about things he's interested in, he loves to spend his free time with you, getting to know you

and yes, he knows every small detail you said

if you only mentioned you hate fish, he will take it as his job to fix that information with you and use it if necessary ("Tonight's dinner is fish". Hunter would say and you would automatically prepared to respond with:"oh i-", but Tech would be faster than you and say as an obvious fact:" Y/N hates fish. they will need something else.")

Echo

main love language: words of affirmation

other: light physical touch

Echo, my baby, needs to be reassured of your love

he has gone through a LOT and he's been alone all this time

so he will need some cute loving words to know he has you on his side

i'm not happy saing this, but he surely is insecure

all the horrible changes that made him almost part robot can't be helping him with self-image and self-esteem (he is beautiful though, isn't he)

so when you say things like: i love every part of you, youre so beautiful, i adore you whole, it leaves him with butterflies everywhere

he is addicted to your voice, it calms him

he likes to be reassured or your love when he's nervous or anxious, a light it's ok or you got this improves his mood instantly

he doesn't need to hear them every minute but it's nice to get your affirmation once a day

but you obviously tell him more than once a day, you tell him almost every hour, thinking it might be too much (spoiler: it isn't)

he also creates petnames for you

some are basic: love, cyare, mesh'la, darling, ...

but some are specifically for you, you have never heard them from someone else: shining, bubble, ka'ra (star, stars)

of course he says i love you back

he even adds a spice to it, because words are his way of loving, and he loves you a LOT

he sometimes says i adore you or your favorite i draw you in my dreams (only in private though, god forbid for his brothers to hear.)

my man's a poet when it comes to you, which surprised you, because he didn't look very outspoken when you met him

he is still quiet though, he saves his words for you

when words can't describe his love, touch comes into place

now, Echo isn't a big fan of physical stuff, Techno Union made sure of that, but a light squeez on his hand or a kiss on his temple is something he can get used to

the most used thing he does is putting his forehead against yours after an intense job or just an exhausting day

he loves good night and good morning kisses, as well as an afternoon hug from behind

he won't cuddle you at night, he is the most vurnerable in his sleep and when you hug him tightly, it feels like he can't breathe or feels trapped

it's nothing against you, he just likes his space at night

but if you have a nightmare, he will surely spoon you for comfort, just not too tightly

Crosshair

main love language: quality time

other: acts of service

this man is a sucker for some one-on-one

Cross doesn't trust easily, so he needs to get to know you more

and once he takes a liking in you, he wants to know everything there is to tell about you, through and through

every alone time spent together he opens up more and more, you are giving him the time he needs, which he appreciates, but also holding a cards close to your chest, not telling him everything at once, which drives him crazy

but he loves it deep down, it makes him more drawn to you

of course not every hang out is spend by talking, sometimes it's just about each other's presence

you casually help him clean his rifle, he helps you with whatever you need

some days he doesn't feel like talking, but he will be right beside you, watching you work, or just listen to you talk about anything

he likes listening to your rambles, he learns more about you like that, your interests and hobbies as well as bad habits and coping mechanisms

occasionally, he talks about the history of the batch before you joined or some of his favorite missions, you noticed he especially took liking in telling stories where Wrecker gets slightly hurt, smirking a bit when he tells you how he hit his head escaping Separatist's tanks as a distraction, but ended up unconcious

you love to listen to him, mostly being quiet when he talks. you thought that doing some 'ooh, aah's would only make him irritated or if you disturbed him, (which you sometimes wanted, because many missions they had reminded you of some new ones) you feared he would stop talking to you, but that would never happen

sometimes you can't hold yourself and do interrupt him, telling him excitingly what that mission reminded you of. Crosshair isn't mad, he is actually glad you do this sometimes, he takes it as a sign of your listening and interest, even though you apologize after cutting him off

when you left him on Kamino, it broke your heart, but what really shattered it were the silent nights you suddenly had

you were lonely without him and couldn't talk to anyone in the batch the way that you two did, so you found yourself talking to nothing, imagining Crosshair next to you

you didn't know that far away, on Kamino, he did the same

‎

if spending time together doesn't help, Crosshair shows his love through his doings

actions are stronger than words for him, so he makes sure you are loved enough

the most frequent act is pulling you away from possible danger, both by your waist or hand

everytime he senses someone or something uncomfortable, he guards you or pulls you closer to him from it

to do that, he often watches Hunter's reactions in different situations

it is a habit of his you got used to so much that you move to him when you feel unsafe

my boy also makes you coffee or any favorite drink you have after every mission

he remembers how you like it, exactly how you like it

you are convinced that you couldn't now make your favorite drink that perfectly as him, though you taught him in the first place

we need to talk about how much of a gentleman he is though

he pulls chairs out for you, offers a hand if there is an inconvenience in your way, also offering a toothpick when he takes one out for himself (which he now kind of regrets, because he got you addicted to them and that means he has to buy them more frequently), asking you if you are alright after fights, shootings, etc.

still, he likes to be spoiled like that as well, which you do

your basic show of love is buying him new toothpicks (as mentioned before, it is halfly your fault they dissapear so quickly) and you secretly hid them in his pocket where they usually are, not taking credit for purchasing them (that doesn't mean Crosshair is oblivious to that fact, he simply just enjoys your sneaking around to put them there)

what you do automatically now is adjusting the room tempature so he could sleep deeply, as he doesn't often

Crosshair and the others are used to sleeping in a cold environment, due to their life on rainy Kamino, and while others somehow adapted to tempature changes, Crosshair couldn't fall asleep in a warm room

so every night, before you go to sleep, you adjust the tempature to 10°C (50°F), and when you go to sleep after the sharpshooter, sometimes you watch how his position changes immidiately due to his, when you're not too tired

‎

‎Wrecker

main love language: physical touch

other: words of affirmation

time for this strong man, fun fact: he really loves kisses

small ones mainly, he likes to give you a peck on the cheek everytime you pass him

he is smithered by love and he needs to give it away like this

hugs are also his thing, he gives the best hugs out of every embrace you've ever been in

he usually picks you up and tightly squeezes you, but he is being careful not to squish you

you always put your cheek on his during a hug, that totally doesn't melt his heart or anything, or you whisper in his ear: i love you too cyare (oh yeah, calling him cyare also doesn't affect his entire being whatsoever)

when there is something important going on, he has his hand on your shoulder or holds your hand shamelessly, pissing off Hunter ("Does this feel 'low profile' to you two?" he curses at the sight of you holding hands and Wrecker will always respond back: "Have you ever heard of couples? Dating is not a thing we invented, ask Tech". As Tech is dragged into it, he will either ignore or confirms Wrecker's statement by sighing: "No, that's definitely not a term you invented, Wrecker. Congratulations on winning the argument.")

the strong boy is definitely the big spoon, he lives to scoop you close to him and holding you in the most vulnerable moments (no, it's not a mistake, he lives to do that)

but you did convince him to try the little spoon and he has to admit that it's almost a tie for him

he just adores your little arms trying to get around his shoulders, but he enjoys being wrapped in his lovers hands

yet he still prefers being the big spoon as he is prepared to protect you

if you are not big on physical touch, it doesn't upset him, he gives you time

also, he always ask for consent, even on little kisses

sometimes, he doesn't ask directly, but he slowly moves to you, waiting for your reaction

if you shake your head or take a step back, he stops and just smiles at you or says something sweet

if you smile, nod or move in his direction, he takes it as a yes and will trap you in his hugs and kisses

when he is overly excited or happy from a finished job/mission, he will take you up on his shoulders, carrying you to the Maraurder or to Cid's (although he puts you down before the steps, you both wouldn't fit into the narrow stairwell)

you were surprised when he did it for the first time, but subconsiously expect it now, when he loudly yells something positive

if you really mind physical touch and know you won't warm up to it, he expresses his love by words

he is simple, saying i love you or be careful before missions or when you go out are the basics

he asks you about your day, adding a very cute nickname he has and made for your name (that only he can use. his words not yours) and you ask about his in return (you tried to do the same for him, but the nickname you came up with didn't catch on. maybe Wreckie sounded too childish, but it was good for joking around)

he thinks of you everyday and voices it every evening, saying what reminded him of you today (of course not in private, he needs his brothers to hear)

you always say some sweet phrases to Wrecker whenever you walk by him: you look pretty, hey love, there he is- the man of my desires, etc.

you also reassure him when he's upset. or overwhelmed, which happens often on intense missions. you make sure you are there for him for comfort

he definitely says good morning and good night to you and he makes sure it would be the first and last thing in your day, so he says it extremely early and extremely late, but you don't mind

Wrecker doesn't get insecure about your relationship much, you return his love equaly so he has no reason to, but there are rare moments where he overthinks

he usually puts distance between you and isolates himself when these thoughts occur, that's when you know he is doing it again

for him to snap out of it, you make food for the two of you and sit next to him without a word, you put a blanket over you and just sit and cuddle with him in silence

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perplexingluciddreams · 1 month

Text

I had a very good day today.

My support worker came to the house for the first time! It is my first time meeting her in person. Her name is Emily and she is lovely. (She also has very cool hair).

She was here from about 11am - 5pm. I got to take my time and take breaks to swing and rest and be alone. Emily, Mum and I had a chat in my room before lunch. I used my AAC and Mum helped me tell Emily things about myself. Communication is much easier with Mum there - I was a bit worried about getting stuck or having a shutdown and not able to cope with a Person there at all. But I did well, I think!

Then I had lunch and a break for swing and Grey's Anatomy. I was quite anxious in my body - tense, sweaty, a bit shaky. Even if I logically know that everything is fine, my body has an instinctive reaction as if I am in danger and not safe, every time there is a Person there in the house (usually this doesn't include parents or sister, because I am used to them living in the same house. But on some days it is absolutely everyone, no matter who). New People are especially hard.

It is also rather hot weather today (18°C!) so that threw me off sensory-wise. I had to take more time to regulate.

In the afternoon I decided to be very brave and play a card game with Mum and Emily. We did three rounds of blackjack. It was a lot of fun! We each won one game. I was still a bit tense, but I was also very proud that I did so well.

I really like my new support worker and I am happy and proud and relieved that today went so well. I finished off the positive streak with listening to Martin Fröst (legendary Swedish clarinettist) play Brahms and Mozart while in my swing.

Wednesday will be my day with Emily from now on. I am really hopeful that this can help me learn to be less scared and anxious around people. Or at least widen the group of people who my brain recognises as "safe". And it is just lovely to spend time with someone and laugh and smile. And get to tell someone new about my interests!

I also have been texting with my best friend in the past week. That is very nice. They are also friends with my sister and quite often pop round our house to hang out, although not with me (because, y'know, Very Disabled - I am sure I don't need to give the full explanation here!). I hope to work towards being able to be physically in the same room with them and hang out, eventually.

It is different with someone I already know, who knows me for years back. There is different mental blocks and barriers and obstacles for both New People and People Who Know Me. It will be a slow process, with lots of teeny tiny baby steps. But I have to start somewhere! So, next time they come round, if my bedroom door is already open, they will pop their head in and wave. That's it. Just wave.

I hope to write more in detail about my "brain barriers" (just what I call it because I don't have any other words) in general, especially relating to Other People. It is a tough topic, and very hard to find words. I have been trying hard for over a year to write anything about this, but the progress is incredibly incremental.

Anyway, now I will need a lot of rest, I am knackered! My body is still in a heightened state of anxiety from a new situation and New Person and how much stimming I had to do to regulate. Usually in the evening I can finally calm down my body - things get quieter and darker and colder and it is all much better. It takes more time to calm down physically than mentally sometimes.

But it is all so very worth it. And Mum is happy too :D

Time to relax, rest my body, and turn my brain off! AKA: Time to watch even more Grey's Anatomy!

#words from my head #from the chaos of my mind #support workers #autism #autistic #nonverbal #nonspeaking #greys anatomy #aac #aac device #aacdevice #aac user

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for being physically close with a guy before breaking up with my ex? (🧋 To find easier)

Sorry for the long explanation!

Last year I( at the time 16, closeted Agender) was dating this guy (at the time 16, M) who we'll call T. Looking back on it I realise I mostly started dating him because he was the first genuine friend I'd made after moving to our country during COVID, and I've always struggled to differentiate romantic and platonic feelings. A few months in I could tell that this simply wasn't working for me and that the only reason I wasn't leaving was because he really really liked me (I was the first person he'd ever dated) and I'd feel guilty for breaking his heart. Eventually I realised I was somewhere on the Aromantic spectrum, so I came out to him expecting it to be an instant deal breaker. He took me being aro much better then I expected and didn't see it as a reason for us to break up ,and I ended up crying a bunch and was so caught up in the euphoria of him accepting me that I agreed to stay in the relationships.

A few weeks pass and things keep deteriorating, to the point where I thought I was ace (I was not. Turns out I just really was not attracted to him anymore) and because I was still too much of a coward to explain my reasons for breaking up directly, I tried to break up with him under the guise of being aroace because I thought SURELY this horny teenage boy would see this as a deal breaker! Again, he accepted me and again I was so full of guilt/euphoria that I let him talk me out of breaking up.

A bit after this, but BEFORE I finally cut off things for real, I a met a guy(at the time 17, m), K, through my friend's sister when I visited their house at the same time as him. We hit it off instantly, both bonding over being aro (though at the time I still thought I was ace) and within the first night of knowing each other we were cuddling, I sat on his lap (I also did this with my first friend but I'd known her for much longer then a few *hours*) and he was coming up and hugging me from behind. I made it very clear I was in a closed relationship, and both me and K agreed at the time that the touching was just platonic, esp since we are both just generally very touchy-feely people and despite T's many more incel-y traits he was never the jealous type.

Me and K met up a few more times, and we continued being touch-y. When he hugged good bye he'd put his hands on my waist, we'd frequently cuddle, he'd lay his head on my shoulder, I'd like down on his lap, etc etc. there was a boob touching incident once but that was an accident so I don't think it really counts? There also might have been an incident where he put his hand up my shirt a bit (like waist level, not bra level). He made sexual jokes about me and the only thing I did to rebuff him was saying that I was still in a closed relationship, not that I wasn't interested. After the third time we met up I finally accepted that I DID like him sexually, and that I was definitely not ace. I know thought crime isn't real but I feel like such as ass for being so touchy with K and using friendliness as an excuse. I AM touchy with my other friends, but even in the moment I knew my feelings for K were different then that.

I broke up with T about a week later (only reason it took that long is cause we live far away and I didn't want to break up over the phone, especially since that's what I did the previous two failed times). Me and K became friends with benefits a few days later. K knows he helped me realise I really needed to break up with T, but I haven't told him how big of a last straw he was.

I do not feel guilty about breaking up with T, he ended up being a huge asshole, however I am very against cheating. No matter how much I hate T for being a creepy bigoted asshole (would nag me about nudes every night, sent me massive paragraph long guilty trippy texts about how bad his mental health was even months after we broke up, is a little too into WW2 and his German great grandparents which makes my Jewish ass very uncomfortable, and he's said a lot of horrible things about me studying Sign Language) he still does not deserve to be cheated on. I feel like I tried my best to correct the situation once I came to terms with my own feelings, but I was still absolute pushing the boundaries even when I subconsciously knew the way I felt about K was different then my other friends.

This all happened a year ago now, My friends who met T and know about me and K are generally on my side because they dislike T, but Idk still feel guilty when I think back on how stuff unfolded. I know it might just be silly teen drama but I really hate the idea of being a hypocrite who preaches against cheating and then does basically the same thing

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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embrosegraves · 7 months

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤

(request) Sebastian Vettel x Reader (he/they) Kids: Vincent/Vince (4) and Miriam/Mimi (5 months)

Warnings: Mentions of Reader not having a good childhood, mentions of Bad Mental Health™, self-doubt from reader, badly written angst?

It had been an unbelievable few years for the Vettel household. First Sebastian married the love of his life and they moved to a farm in Switzerland. They spent three years together before they adopted an energetic 2-year-old boy named Vincent. They were a perfect family of three. Sebastian retired from Formula One when Vince was 3 and a year later they found themselves at home with a now 4-year-old son and a newly adopted 5-month-old baby girl, Miriam.

It was everything Seb could’ve asked for. He had a husband and two gorgeous children, he had never been more satisfied with anything in his life.

Sebastian was so in love with his life that his heart shattered when he saw his life partner struggling. Y/n put up a good show in front of the children, but Sebastian and Y/n had been together for close to 9 years. Not to mention that they had known each other for 13 years. All that to say, Sebastian basically knew them better than themself. So he knew that while Y/n was outwardly happy and excited, their mind was in the trenches between anxiety and doubt.

Seb could see that he was struggling with something and it physically pained him to not know how to help. Y/n was the single most important thing in his life. Every fibre of his being was made to love him and to make him feel happy and safe. He had to try something to help.

Prior to getting together with Seb, Y/n had explained vaguely what it had been like growing up for them. How they had to basically raise themself from a very early age. The sad fact was, Y/n had never had a consistent flow of positive affirmation or physical affection until finding Sebastian. Growing up both things had been a taboo. Meeting Sebastian had made Y/n determined to break the generational cycle before it had time to fully begin. Sometimes that mindset was hard to keep. Especially when asked a seemingly innocent question from a totally clueless 4-year-old.

Vince hadn’t even asked Y/n the question, but he had overheard the small boy ask Sebastian.

“How much am I loved?”

Those five words had sent Y/n into a silent spiral for days. Y/n hadn’t bothered to stick around to hear Sebastian answer the question. Instead, they tried as best they could to continue the day as normal. Why did Vince ask that, of all questions? Y/n was aware that children were always curious about everything, and they knew that it was more than likely just a child’s healthy curiosity. But curiosity had to start somewhere, right? What happened for their son to ask how much he was loved.

Had he turned into his parents? Had he, without realising, not shown or said how much he absolutely adored his child? Did he somehow do the one thing that he swore he never would? Just the thought of it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Sitting on the couch one evening, Baby Mimi asleep in one arm while the other circled around a sleeping Vince, Y/n found themself within their mind once again. Thinking about everything they had done leading up to Vince asking that dreaded question. He couldn’t pinpoint anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing had changed in the dynamic since they had adopted their first child. Y/n blinked away the tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, my loves.” Y/n whispered as they looked at their children. Their voice was choked with emotion as they spoke.

“I’m sorry I haven’t done better. I promised myself that I would be better, and it’s not just myself that I’ve let down.” Y/n sniffled. “I said, years ago, that I would never become the people that raised me. That I would stop the cycle before it could begin, but clearly I’ve failed.”

Sebastian had stopped just before the doorway to the living room, having heard his husband speaking to the no doubt sleeping children.

“I wish that I could take back every moment you ever doubted my love for you. Prove that I am not my parents and that you are the most important parts of my life. I never want for you to feel how I did as a child.”

Sebastian couldn’t take it anymore. He walked into the room, gently picked up his son and sat down next to Y/n. Keeping an arm around Vince, he used his free arm to wrap around his partner and pull them close to him.

Sebastian pressed a lingering kiss to Y/n temple and whispered to him. “They do not doubt your love for them, Blume. I promise you.”

“How would you know that? I have failed as a parent if my child has to ask if he is loved.” Y/n took a shuddering breath, trying to stop themself from bawling their eyes out.

“I know because I asked. Vince knows how much you love him, he knows how much I love him and I have no doubt in my mind that Mimi also knows how much we love her.”

“Papa, how much am I loved?”

Sebastian looked at the 4-year-old in his arms, “Why do you ask?”

“Baba always says that he loves you to the moon. And then you always say that you love Baba for all the stars.”

“We do say that, yes.” Sebastian could help but smile at his son. He knew that for the young boy to know the endearment he exchanged with his husband, he would’ve had to hear it often. It pleased him to know that his children were growing up surrounded by the notion that affection and openly loving someone was a good thing.

“I just wanted to know how much I was loved. Like you and Baba.”

Adjusting Vince so that he could see his face, Sebastian gave a kiss to his forehead. “Baba and I love you so much that there is nothing we could compare it to”

The boy looked at his father, “And Mimi too?”

“Of course Mimi too. There is nothing in the whole world that Baba and I love more than the two of you.”

“Not even your trophies? Baba says you love them a lot.” Vince said, laying his head on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“My trophies don’t even come close, Kleine.”

Sebastian pulled his husband closer as he finished speaking. I was silent for a moment before Seb spoke up again.

“You have not failed as a parent, and I know that you will never fail. I have seen how much our son adores you. In every language I know there are not enough words to explain how much he loves you.”

Sebastian knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to convince his partner that they didn’t need to be upset or worried. He knew that it was hard to come back from your mind. Especially if you had been there for a while. Sebastian was determined to help his partner, no matter how long it took him. He would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant that Y/n knew how much their little family loved them. He would trade every Championship trophy in the world to show Y/n that they are nothing like the people who raised them (because they sure as shit weren’t parents).

“I love you so much that seeing you doubt yourself hurts me. You are the best damn parent for our children and I just wish that you could see that.”

It might take me a while but I can potentially do a part 2 for this if people liked it.

but anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed <3

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #my brain can't think of tags for this #so reblog with tags I'm missing please and thank you #Embrose Writes Things Yay!

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mangoshorthand · 1 year

Note

Hii againn, first off I seriously love love LOVE the lucky fucking pillow you did from my first request thank you 🫶 I think this counts as my second request? (I hope it's okay to req again🥺) fluff rather than a smut hehe, this happens after five retired and they live together and reader comes home with a senior cat she decided to adopted (bc it reminded her of five) then he soon comes to love it so much, and up to you! pls a bit of angst. THANKIEE SMM I really enjoyed my first request!! 🩷🩷🩷

You're welkiee again! You can request as often as you like (but I am on hiatus after posting this to work on one or two longer projects). I've saved this one for a bit because I really wanted to do it justice. Sorry it took so long.

Two Old Men | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader Words: 3.3k, rated G

At last, retirement suited him.

He tried first when he was fifty eight and his body was in its teens, but destiny pulled him kicking and screaming back into the chaos. After all that was all done, he tried again, but it didn’t take.

As it turned out, people don’t retire just because they’re mentally tired, they retire because they’re old, and Five’s body and brain tissue being physically young had left him too full of energy to live a life of idleness.

But now, with his body in its early fifties and his consciousness well into its nineties, he felt the body slowing down enough to allow him to take it easy

So, a year ago, you and he bought a few acres of land in Tompkins County. Five was someone who didn’t like to gush- in fact, he tended to find fault if there was any- but even he had to admit it was perfect: it was near enough to Ithaca to access all the restaurants, shops and bars you enjoyed together, and rural enough to satisfy him in his insistence that you retire somewhere where nightfall brought a view of the cosmos unspoiled by city lights.

The farmhouse was small enough to mean it would be easy enough to keep clean as you both aged, but commodious enough to play host to two or three family members at a time.

For New Year, you actually managed four, but that had involved Klaus staying on a blow-up. He'd insisted that his powers kept his body in tip-top shape but it became apparent the following morning that he'd been talking out of his ass: his elderly back could no longer tolerate such treatment, and Five had wrenched his own in pulling him off the mattress.

No, Five couldn’t complain: he had a couple of project cars to tinker with in the barn, and next year you were planning to try planting a little orchard and vineyard to try your hands at making organic wine. His days were filled with pleasant walks, naps and hobbies, and his nights were spent warm in bed with you: what more could a man want from his retirement?

Now, he stretched out on the veranda, hat shading his eyes and sun warming his limbs. He wondered vaguely whether it was worth adding just one more bedroom. He sort of missed having a house full of guests. Or, even better, maybe he could build himself a better place for the cars (his precious Corvette was vulnerable to rust in the barn right now), and then convert the barn into its own little self-contained-

“Five?”

Your shout came to him on the breeze. He put down his book entirely and squinted at your approaching figure, returning from your afternoon walk. He’d left his glasses inside, so he could only see an indistinct shape in your arms. Your gait seemed unusual. Were you hurt?

“What’s up?” he called back, ignoring the slight twinge in his pelvis as he stood.

“Look what I’ve found!”

Not hurt: just slightly urgent. He approached curiously, walking off the little stiffness caused by the twinge. He knew there would probably be a point when it was easier to blink to his feet than heave himself up- he could sense it coming the last time his body was in its fifties, but he was damned if he’d do that until his joints were at least pushing eighty.

You came into view.

Apparently, you were wrestling with your sweater.

It writhed in your arms, wriggling and snarling so fiercely that you nearly dropped it on a couple of occassions.

“What the hell?”

“Open the door for me. I found a cat.”

“A cat?" he said, as if he'd never heard of such a creature.

And, sure enough, a pair of bright green eyes glared out from where their owner was bundled up in the sweater: a tightly- wrapped burrito with murder in its heart.

“I don’t want that thing in the house!” he said, as the burrito gave a threatening growl.

“He’s ill, Five.”

Thirty years together had taught him when you meant business. Your tone was conclusive, so he reluctantly opened the front door.

“Put it in the laundry room,” he said, resentfully, “I don’t want it pissing on the furniture.”

“He, Five.” you said, pointedly.

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna misgender a goddamn cat,” he mumbled, but he opened the laundry room door and stood aside so you could enter before closing it behind you both.

“Okay- stand back,” you said, lowering the writhing sweater onto the tiles.

Five did step back. He liked dogs, but cats he had no interest in. Let alone one that sounded like it intended them both serious bodily harm. Its constant growls and furious yowls made him feel like he was in the presence of a live grenade.

For a moment, the bundle wriggled, throwing itself around until the cat finally extracted himself. His long fur was a dark gray black, and those jade eyes peered out threateningly from underneath weeping mange-sores. Immediately, he backed off into a corner, fur all on end and spitting at you both with hackles raised. Though he was doing his level best to appear larger, he was rather small and skinny.

Five looked at you, incredulously. There you were, eyes glistening in adoration as you looked down at the brewing hurricane of claws and teeth. It was the same face he fell in love with. You were slightly older than him physically, but you didn’t look it, especially now that your eyes were filled with an excited gleam: you looked young again.

“Look at him, Five!”

Suppressing a loving smile, he looked back at the cat, now growling again.

“He’s kinda gross.”

“No he isn’t!” you said, indignantly, “he's an old man and he’s sick.”

You paused for a moment.

“A bit like you, actually. You’re a sick old man if ever I met one.”

You eyed him knowingly with a little twitch of your eyebrows. Five scowled, but you continued, laughing, as the parallels came upon you one by one.

“He is like you! That must be why I had to bring him home! He’s tiny and old and grumpy and-”

As you said it, the cat let out an indignant, snappish ‘Nyaah’.

“-and he even sounds like you!” you finished, grinning.

“I’m not tiny,” Five said, grumpily, “I’m only an inch or so shorter than average.”

“Look!” you said, pointing between him and the cat, “you’re pulling the same face.”

“God, I married an idiot,” Five replied, schooling his expression back into neutrality. He looked back at the cat with its teeth bared in a silent hiss.

“It looks like it wants to tear our throats out.”

“I know!” you said, rapturously, “he’s so cute!”

Five shook his head at this absurd non-sequitur.

“Whose is it?”

“I found him near the old Montgomery place. I think he must have belonged to Judy.”

His mouth pulled downwards. Five had known Judy to wave to. She was a nice old lady who lived a few farms over. He’d been sorry to hear of her death.

“That means he’s been surviving on his own for two months,” you said.

He looked down at the cat, looking rapidly around itself for a route of escape and finding none. It seemed to try to line up a jump onto the counter, but looked wobbly on its back legs as it did so, so it gave up and went back to eyeing them with those lamp-like eyes.

He really was old.

“Well,” Five said, begrudgingly, “you’re gonna have to take him to the vets. See if he’s chipped and get that shit on his face sorted out.”

“Okay!” you said, brightly, looking around the laundry room with a thoughtful look, “can you blink and get me some twine from the kitchen so we don’t have to open the door.”

“Twine?”

“You just watch.”

***

With many claw marks on your forearms but still smiling like an idiot, you drove the cat to the vets with it trapped in a plastic laundry basket with an identical one on top secured with twine. Five watched you down the drive with a fond shake of the head and returned to his book. There was still a good hour or so of warm, early-afternoon sun before he’d have to go inside and get a jacket.

He spent the afternoon peacefully, sipping a cold beer and occasionally letting his book rest on his chest while he watched the thick cirrocumulous cloud cover crawling gradually by.

When he was forty, he only barely lived through the worst apocalyptic winter. Fuel was low, and he'd been prevented from finding more or seeking shelter elsewhere by the deepest snow drifts he ever experienced.

Out of one of these, he’d dug himself and Dolores a little snow-shelter. He distinctly remembered trying to dry his soaking gloves over the smoldering embers of his last burnable supplies and looking down at his red fingers.

'If I survive this,' he thought then, 'this will all be a memory one day. I can look back on this when I’m warm and comfortable. I can sit in the sun and remember how lucky I am to be there. This is good, actually, because it’ll teach me to be grateful.'

And, although he’d only thought that way to get him through that night, it had actually worked, because Five remembered it now. He remembered the pain in his joints from the physical labor and the burning of his frostbitten fingers and toes. He took a moment to glory in the contrast between then and now.

Back then, he’d only been thinking about surviving until the thaw or the following summer, but now he had more happiness and more comfort than he ever dared to imagine then. He was warm, he was safe, he was home, and he would fall asleep tonight held tight in your arms.

With a warm feeling in his chest, he closed his eyes.

He only awoke from the slight doze at the sound of the car pulling up.

“Hey,” he said, without opening his eyes, “is it all done with? Cat at the shelter?”

“Nyyaaahhh!”

The truculent noise was more than enough to answer his question. Damn cat couldn’t even meow right.

He opened his eyes to see you standing there with the cat in a brand new carrier and a huge bag from the pet store in another.

“Woah, hey!” he said, dismayed, “We didn’t talk about this!”

“Please, Five,” you said, wheedling, “he has nobody else. They read his chip and he was Judy’s. The vet said he’s too old to get adopted and he’d probably die at a shelter.”

“No, I am not keeping that thing in the house,” he protested, “I got this strange liking to having both my eyes!”

He relented slightly at the sight of your pout.

“Fine. He can stay, but he can live in the barn.”

“You go live in the barn,” you said, resentfully, taking the cat and the supplies into the house despite his protestations.

An argument ensued, an argument that didn’t settle down until you both turned in for bed.

When the cat was shut downstairs for the night, fed, bedded and given the run of the kitchen and laundry room, you slid into bed beside Five without acknowledging him.

Five sat there for a minute or so with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. At last, he spoke:

“Fine,” he said, “he can stay in the house, but I got two conditions.”

You gave a small squee and kissed him full on the mouth, squashing his mustache with your fervor. You knew that the thin end of the wedge was embedded. Whatever Five’s conditions were, the cat would find his way around them in time.

“All right, all right,” Five said, from between your hands on his cheeks. Though he was trying to sound stern, suppressing his smile was difficult.

“Number one,” he said, holding up a finger, “he doesn’t get to go beyond the kitchen. I don’t want him ruining our stuff. We’ll get a cat door and he can go out and do whatever cats do during the day, and he can sleep and eat here.”

“Okay,” you said, though with no intention of sticking to this agreement.

Five put up a second finger.

“And two, I get to name him.”

“He already has a name,” you said, bemused, “Judy called him Mr Cuddles, I think.”

“That’s a dumb name,” Five grumbled, “I’m calling him Timothy.”

“Timothy?”

“Timothy.” he said, decisively, “take it or leave it.”

“Can we call him Tim?”

“Nope,” Five said, obstinately, “Timothy.”

***

Timothy didn’t like to be touched. It took him six weeks to tolerate you petting him without tensing up, though it was clear he didn’t really enjoy it. Being picked up was still an absolute no-go, as that would necessitate touching his tummy. That, you were learning, was a guaranteed bite.

Despite this, things had improved for Timothy since he arrived. His mange was gone and he’d grown in confidence, greeting you each morning with a polite ‘Nyah’, and even conferring the odd friendly chirrup upon you now and again.

You spent hours in the kitchen with him, just sitting there, drinking tea and tempting him towards you with treats. You were getting on fine, and Timothy clearly already felt like he owned the place, coming and going as he wished and sunning himself on the veranda.

You were besotted, and Five was happy for you, (anything that made your eyes light up that way was fine by him), but mostly he ignored Timothy, carrying on just the same as ever.

One afternoon, however, Five was in the barn, lying on his mechanic’s creeper under his jacked up 1967 Pontiac. There was a worrying leak coming from somewhere, and, having got so far fixing her up on his own, he was hoping to avoid having to take her into the shop in town.

So intent was he on inspecting the engine bay, he didn’t notice that he wasn’t the only one beneath the car until Timothy was less than an inch from his face.

“Nyaaah?”

Five startled, dropping his flashlight and cursing.

“Shit!”

Timothy’s ears flattened against his head, and he backed off rapidly, stopping a few feet away before hissing at Five, ill-naturedly.

“Stupid cat,” Five muttered, composing himself and returning to the job at hand.

As he continued to work, he stayed aware of Timothy stalking around the car. At one point, he heard a small flump that meant he’d jumped through the Pontiac’s open door.

“Watch the the interior,” Five grumbled, “that’s the original naugahyde. You know how much I paid for her?”

“Nyah.”

“Yup,” he said, “and if you scratch up or pee on any of it, I’ll replace it with catskin. Understood?”

“Nyah,” Timothy repeated.

“Good.”

He became absorbed again, listening to Timothy’s paws pattering around on his precious upholstery. The leak was hard to identify. He chewed at his lower lip and considered before muttering to himself.

“It was brown, so that’s gotta be transmission fluid, right? Maybe brake fluid? Hell, maybe it’s just oil.”

“Nyah.”

“Could be a lube oil leak, I guess,” he said, as if Timothy had suggested this, “but it doesn’t smell bad.”

Timothy landed with only a slight stumble when he jumped down. Five felt the cat butt up and rub himself against his feet where they stuck out from underneath the car.

He tinkered for another fifteen minutes to no avail. He could feel his joints starting to stiffen, so he wheeled himself out from under the car to find Timothy watching him, sitting neatly in a shaft of sunlight at the barn door.

He gave Five a slow blink.

Five wasn’t au fait with cat communication, but the gesture seemed friendly, so he nodded slightly awkwardly at him in acknowledgement.

***

Over the next week or so, Timothy honored Five with his company whenever he worked on the Pontiac.

Five supposed it was a hangover from his life with Dolores, but he found he worked better when he had a presence with him to talk to. Verbalizing his thought processes nearly always helped him problem-solve.

It took him a few days to identify the problem and, just as he was starting to fix it, a sound like an idling Harley Davidson made him look around confusedly for the source. He thought for one, wild moment that the key had been turned in the Pontiac’s ignition but apparently not: as it turned out, this was just how Timothy purred.

He was sitting a few feet away, watching Five work under the car and purring in the warmth of the sunlight. When he saw Five looking, he gave another of those contented slow blinks.

That night, Five didn’t shut Timothy in the kitchen when he went to bed.

***

It was a balmy summer afternoon. You and Five were sitting on the veranda on the twin loungers, drinking iced tea and talking in an idle fashion about building another bedroom.

You favored converting the attic, while Five wanted a full barn conversion. He talked convincingly about how nice it would be to have his niblings and their families over to stay for a few weeks at a stretch, but you suspected it actually had much more to do with the opportunity to build himself a proper mechanic’s shop on the property. He talked about how nice it would be to spend more time with the kids, but you could see the ghost of a hydraulic vehicle lift behind his eyes: there would be no more lying uncomfortably on the creeper then.

But, the decision left unmade, Five had talked himself into a nap. His hand had long since dropped from where you’d been holding it between the two loungers, and he was now sound asleep with his hat over his face.

You were engrossed with a book, relaxed and listening to Five’s soft little snores. It was good he was having a nap now, you thought. Tonight, you’d planned to wait up until it got dark out and stargaze on a rug spread in the back field, like you did when you were younger.

“Nyaah?”

Timothy padded into sight, piercing green eyes x-raying you with assessment. This was another similarity to your husband: even after all these years, Five regularly looked at you as if he were still making up his mind about you.

You patted your thigh, hoping to encourage Timothy onto your lap, but he declined the offer and wandered over to sniff Five’s empty glass instead. Apparently finding nothing to his liking, he looked up at Five.

You watched, shocked, as Timothy first gauged the jump, then decided it was within his capabilities and finally shuffled backwards to line himself up. In a mildly ungainly fashion, he made the leap and walked confidently along Five’s chest until he reached the softer padding of his belly. There, Timothy kneaded him gently before he settled down, turning around and around in a circle before curling up neatly.

This was just typical, you thought, as Timothy began to purr loudly. You’d worked your ass off to get this cat to like you and he still barely tolerated you petting him. All the while, Five had treated Timothy with indifference bordering on dislike and this is how he responded?

As you watched, trying hard not to feel slightly offended, Five stirred and muttered something in which only the word “cat” was discernible. His arms came sleepily up, his fingers laced together and his hands laid themselves across the cat’s abdomen.

Timothy stiffened and made a small, slightly unhappy noise at the unexpected touch, but, after a moment of evaluation, apparently decided to tolerate it. He lay his head back down and closed his eyes.

For a moment, you shook your head and watched the two crotchety old men sleep. Then, smiling, you returned to your book.

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x gn reader #long live the mustache

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joels-darlin · 9 months

Text

Monday Morning - The Aftermath

Chapter 3

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only. kidnapping/hostage situation, violence, angst, hurt, allusions to rape, mentions of weapons, restraints/being tied up, mentions of injuries, panic attacks, mental health, anxiety, night terrors, lots of fluff though. (I think that's all sorry if I missed any)

Summary: The aftermath of recovering from your traumatic kidnapping comes with some surprising consequences.

Word count: 2736

Author Note: It’s here, the final chapter. I’m not going to lie this was a struggle and writers blocks have been kicking my ass for weeks, apologies to those who have been waiting but hopefully it is worth it! I’ve enjoyed writing my first multi-chapter fic and have learnt a lot during the process, hopefully here’s to many more. Enjoy this cos it’s just pure fluff and lots of soft!Javi (sucker for him). Any feedback is appreciated, thanks all ♥️

This wouldn't be happening without the help of my dearest friend @ladybess-a03 ♥️ Just thankyou, I am forever grateful for all your help, support and encouragement. You made this ending so much better than I had planned and will forever be in your debt!

AO3 Link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The recovery process would undoubtedly take months, both mentally and physically. But, as promised, Javi was by your side every step of the way. He could tell the physical injuries didn’t bother you anymore, but the mental scars were the ones that hit the hardest.

As expected the first week was difficult. Even though your DEA issued apartments were adjacent to each other, Javi had basically moved in, albeit not straightaway. On one of those nights where he was unable to switch off, drifting in and out from slumber every hour or so, he was woken by the blood curdling screams and hysterical sobbing from the other side of the wall. Knowing it was you straightaway he had bolted from the bed and through the door of the apartment, forgoing the fact that he was only wearing a pair of shorts.

The minute he stepped foot in the room his heart broke, red puffy eyes and tear tracks marring your cheeks - pain and horror evident on your usually happy features. He had noticed since the incident you had become a shell of your former self. A once happy and carefree persona now replaced with sadness and constant fear. Eyes losing their sparkle, replaced with dullness and emptiness accompanied by the dark circles on your pale skin - although to him you still looked beautiful.

That was the first night you had let him hold your trembling frame, staying intertwined until the sun started to peek through the yellowing blinds of the bedroom. It was a new experience for him, the only time in weeks since the heavy ache in his chest had subsided whilst embracing you. From that moment forward he made a vow to never leave you alone in these four walls again. He only left your side for a few minutes the next morning to pack some of his belongings into a hold-all bag, finding them a home in your apartment. ────────

Everything changed after that night, and although you were still in a constant cycle of anxiety and panic attacks, they were not as frequent. Javi had thrown everything into the role of caretaker, working tirelessly to establish a routine aiming to bring some normality back into your life. It was only after some further coaxing that he finally succeeded in getting you to leave the confines of the apartment on a random Sunday, accompanied by him of course.

It was a specific place he had chosen and quite often frequented. Somewhere not far, a small café just down the road, planning ahead in case you changed your mind and wanted out fast. Javi couldn’t help the grin that spread across his cheeks. Admiring as you sat across from him on the rickety, old table, a breath-taking but shy smile adorned your features as you sipped away on a coffee. In that moment his heart stopped.

Javi wasn’t one for long-term relationships and couldn’t remember the last time he was in one, often just paying a visit to one of his many informants for a moment of stress relief. But here you sat in front of him, fingers softly grazing his knuckles across the table, looking happy for the first time in weeks and he was close to crumbling into pieces. Wanting nothing more than to call you his. But he had to wait; you were still too vulnerable.

────────

It was easy to see that you had both slipped into something that could be considered more than friends, even without there being any words yet to be spoken on the matter. The comforting touches between one another increased and evenings were spent curled up on the couch barely paying attention to the TV, not forgetting sleeping in the same bed completely wrapped around one another. Which seemed to keep your nightmares at bay…sometimes.

What you were both unprepared for was the brown Embassy issued envelope that dropped through the letterbox a couple of weeks after the coffee shop. You had come on in leaps and bounds since then, the coffee ‘dates’ slowly becoming something that happened multiple times a week. You’d even managed to go as far as going back to the market where you had first been taken from, albeit for a brief visit, but in Javi’s mind that was steady progress.

All Javi could do was watch as you opened it with shaking hands, spotting the tears starting collecting at your lash line. Taking every ounce of strength in his body to resist pulling you into an embrace, giving you a moment to take in the words on the page.

“They-they- want me back in,” you said. He had waited patiently for you to speak but the words barely came out as a whisper.

“Cariño…” he whispered softly, “If you aren’t ready you don’t have to do anything, I can pull a few strings get you a little longer,” he said, reaching his hands out tentatively and resting them at your waist, calloused thumbs grazing softly at the small amount of exposed skin.

He was furious. Seeing how much progress you had been making and now this, not failing to spot you retreating back into your shell from the moment you had opened the letter. The room was virtually silent, the only sound being the faint banging of footsteps from the apartment above. It was only a few minutes that passed, but they felt like hours, Javi just watching intently as you took a deep breath in before exhaling loudly, sensing that the cogs were turning in your head.

“I-I-think it might be good for me to go…back” you said, and his eyes widened at your response.

“No, sweetheart, don’t rush on their account. It’s barely been two months, fuck them all!” he said, his anger evident from his tone.

“Javi…I can’t stay here locked up in the apartment forever. I’m going to have to get back to real life soon enough,” you said. You were right, as always, eliciting a sigh from him. Moving his arms from your waist he reached out grabbing your hands, linking your fingers with yours.

“Honey, look at me…” he watched as you raised your head, locking eyes with him “…are you sure this is what you want?…You don’t have to make the decision now”.

“No Javi, I do. I want to get my life back on track… I can’t live scared forever,” you said, and he nodded, accepting your reasons.

“I’m with you every step of the way, you got that? Just say the words and we are out of there,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at Javi. He’d gone above and beyond for you these last few weeks, and you truly didn’t know where you’d be without his support.

“Thank you, Javi” you said.

He said no more to you on the matter; truthfully, he didn’t need to. You’d made up your mind and he’d never stand in the way of your decision. There was nothing else to say now, but he chose to use his actions instead to convey just how serious he was about supporting you; how serious he was about you. Closing the space between your bodies, he pulled you into an embrace, laying a soft kiss on your hair. For the first time in a long while, Javi was becoming less frightened to show you just how he felt about you. ────────

You going back to work came around faster than expected. Today was the day you were going back to the office and Javi had been dreading it since the letter dropped through the door. As he stood in the bathroom, eyes locked on his pale and clammy figure staring back in the mirror, hands gripping the contours of the ceramic sink, his knuckles practically white and ready to burst out of the skin. He felt it all, the anxiety and nerves coming and going in waves across his chest. All he wanted was to protect and keep you safe from any harm, and today, for the first time since you were rescued, he wouldn’t be able to do that.

You had been quiet all morning, as expected. He didn’t make any extra fuss, giving you the space and time needed to slow pad around the apartment doing your morning routine. He could only observe from the couch, munching on a slice of now cold toast which was threatening to make a re-appearance at any given moment. He didn’t want you back today, it was too soon. But this was your decision, and he had to respect that.

The drive to the office was quiet. Javi tried to distract himself by tapping his fingers on the leather of the steering wheel. Whilst stuck at a red light he took a moment to glance over to your figure in the passenger seat. The dark circles under your eyes caught his attention, knowing full well that you hadn’t slept at all last night, the constant tossing and turning in bed being the obvious sign. He’d done his best to still you, letting you snuggle into him more than most nights. But it seemed like nothing was working, and as such neither of you had a good night’s sleep.

Javi pulled up into his designated parking spot and turned off the engine. You didn’t move to undo the seatbelt, instead sitting rooted to the spot. Javi turned to you, smiling solemnly, and reached one hand out to hold yours.

“Hey…are you alright?” he asked, knowing full well that the answer was a resounding ‘no’, but you’d probably never admit that. Sure enough, he was right, and as you turned to look at him you put on your best fake smile and nodded your head.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just nervous,” you said, squeezing Javi’s hand in yours.

“I can drive you home? Tell our boss you ain’t up to it yet?” he offered, his deep brown eyes staring at you almost pleading, begging for you to grant him permission to do so. But you were nothing if not stubborn, and shook your head.

“Thank you, Javi. But no, I…I need to do this. If not now, when? I don’t want to get into my own head about this too long, or else it’ll just make my inevitable return so much more difficult. I’m still just on desk duty for a while at least, so that’s something,” you said, not realising that the only reason you were being kept at the station was because Javi had basically demanded that be the case. The day after you’d received your letter he’d gone straight into your boss’ office, thrusting the letter on their desk, requesting that you not be put on any missions for the foreseeable future.

“It’s enough that you want her back so fucking soon, the least you can do is keep her out of harm’s way,” he’d said, not even waiting to hear a response before storming out of the office and back to his desk. He’d learn by the end of the day that they had agreed, and you’d be psychologically monitored before being allowed out from behind your desk. He’d breathed a sigh of relief that night, and packed up his things almost immediately to go back home and tell you the news.

“Okay sweetheart, but if you need anything-,” he began before you cut him off.

“I know, Javi. I know. I’ll come and find you,” you said, smiling.

“You better,” he chuckled.

“I always will, Javi. And, listen…thank you. For everything. I know you still don’t think I should go back to work today, but please don’t forget that if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even be considering this. I owe you everything,” you said, one or two tears spilling down your cheeks. Javi smiled faintly, undoing his seatbelt so he could lean over to you more and brush away the tear tracks.

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cry. What you went through was horrible, and I’m constantly blown away with how strong you’ve been,” he said. You smiled at him, staring into his deep brown eyes. Eyes that only seemed to soften for you, you’d noticed.

“Will…will you be moving out now?” you asked, biting your lip a little, your voice barely above a whisper. Javi chuckled, getting a little closer so your foreheads could rest together.

“Only if you don’t want me there, hermosa,” he whispered, your lips so close to touching, Javi’s hand still cradling your head.

You pulled back ever so slightly to look at him in the eyes, and Javi thought his heart might burst. He’d completely fallen head over heels for you, but it was only after having spent so much time with you these last few weeks that he’d come to realise this. He wondered how long he’d been harbouring this feeling towards you, but that was in the past now. He just hoped that, going forward, it would be something he could one day express.

Smiling sweetly, your breath slightly shaky, you leant back in towards him. Your lips pressed against Javi’s and you kissed him softly. His eyes widened a little at the contact, not quite expecting this from you, and his heart sped up. Once his brain had caught up with what was going on, he kissed you back, the hand cradling your cheek landing in your hair to keep you close. You smiled against his lips when he kissed you, glad that Javi returned the affection you too had been nursing for the last couple of months, the feelings making themselves known ever since he came to look after you.

He didn’t want to overstep with you, never having expected something like this to even happen in the first place. He pulled back slowly, but kept himself close to you. You smiled, a flush on your cheeks and for the first time in weeks you felt alive. It would undoubtedly take a long time before your desire to be intimate with anyone to come back, but for now gentle kisses could be how you showed Javi how you felt.

“I…I don’t want you to move out, Javi. In fact, I wondered if you’d like to move in more permanently?” you asked, trying your best to hold back a cheeky grin. Javi chuckled, elated that you still wanted him around, but also delighted to see you smiling and laughing again. Slowly but surely you were coming back to him, and he was willing to be patient and stick by you for as long as that took.

“If you’ll have me, sweetheart, then I’ll start packing tonight,” he promised, pressing one final soft kiss to your lips. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, now feeling much less anxious about today.

He pulled back and hopped out of the car, then came around to your side to let you out. Locking the vehicle, Javi thrust the keys in his pocket before leaning down to grab your hand. You interlocked your fingers, and he gave you a small squeeze before heading off.

The two of you walked through the front doors of the DEA’s office, hand in hand still. You smiled at Javi, the first genuine smile you’d done this morning. You were still sleep deprived, yes, but he’d lifted your spirits immeasurably, and for the first time since the kidnapping you were starting to believe that you could do this. Your strength in yourself might still not be back to where it was, but today was the first day where you could see yourself slowly getting back there.

For as long as you had Javi by your side, you’d be okay. It might take a few more weeks, or even months; but he was going nowhere, he never wanted to let you go again now. Together you’d be able to overcome what you’d been through, and that was a future you were excited about experiencing.

#pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fics #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javi pena #pedro pascal characters #javi p #narcos #javier pena #javier pena x you

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anaslair · 4 months

Note

I’m a straight Bengali girl (daughter of Aphrodite), who’s a little chubby and has a lot of acne scars (both of which I’m insecure about, though, I’ve been staring to like my acne scars lately). I wear glasses and without them, the world around me is very blurry. I’m pretty shy and nervous, so I sort of have trouble speaking to strangers or people I don’t know well. But once I’m comfortable around you and we mutually see each other as friends, I’m able to show you my chaotic side and feel comfortable saying some pretty wild things. I also make quite a few sexual jokes. Though I am more comfortable to speak freely with my friends, if I’m in a relatively big group that consists of my friends, I get really nervous speaking in front of all of them, so I opt to talk to individuals rather than the collective. I crave for physical affection but I never ask for it because I’ll feel bad if I get rejected of such, so I’ll wait til someone decide to give me affection. I’m a huge romantic fan and love reading romance stories or fanfic, and I love men who are completely obsessed with you. If I’m going to be honest, I feel more attracted to depressed or sad men rather than happy or cheerful men. I love eating food, but don’t really like eating in front of people much cause I always feel like I’m being judge for the way I eat even if that’s not actually the case. I can’t help it, so I prefer to eat alone. My favourite food is chicken curry and rice! I have trouble keeping eye contact so I usually look somewhere else while talking to people, but I do occasionally (while in the conversation) do make eye contact. There are times where it takes time for my brain to process some situations or dialogue, and I have an awfully memory. I also hate reading out load cause my brain takes time to process the words on the paper for me to read out load, so it makes me say the words out load slowly and almost choppy, you know? I love my friends very much and always love to hang out with them, even if we are simply in a room together only doing our own thing. I just like being in their presence. Though, once my social battery runs out, I’d like to be alone in my room (though, I I have a romantic partner, I wouldn’t mind them being with me). I’m always open to be their for my friends if they are down and listen to their problems, but not good at verbally comforting them, so I’m open for providing them physical comfort such as a hug or rubbing their back if that’s what they want. If I don’t anything embarrassing, I will constantly think about the moment for years and best myself over it and mentally redo that whole conversation or action in a way better way that I should have done to have not embarrassed myself earlier, you know? I very kind and often give people the benefit of the doubt, and I’m sort of a pushover, but I’m still able to say no to situations that make me uncomfortable.

I love reading, drawing, and creating ocs and world building. I’m such a mythology nerd, especially when it comes to Greek mythology (I have many books about these myths). I absolutely hate bugs and because of them, I hate being in forests and such cause I always get swarmed by them. I’m also afraid of the dark, so when I sleep, I leave my door open and the hallway light on.

My matchups are usually long like this so that’s why they may take a little while to come out 🥸 pls bear with me guys 🫶

Hope you like it anon!! Have a great day and tysm for requesting!!! <3

I match you with…

Luke Castellan!!

(Let’s all collectively join hands and pretend he didn’t die 🫰)

After the second titan war was officially over, Luke went through a lot before finally being able to return to camp

He did literally stab himself to end Kronos’s reign of terror, so after a long fight discussion amongst the gods, it was decided he should be given a second chance at life. A brand new start

Not without cleaning his mess first though. He was assigned by the gods to send a load of monsters he recruited for Kronos back to Tartarus, while simultaneously healing from his fatal wound

Even under Apollo’s direct care, the injury left a huge, nasty scar on his body

Honestly, he preferred facing whatever punishment Hades had for him in the Underworld than helping any god. But he owed everyone (specially Annabeth and Thalia, his real family) an apology and to make things right

So he killed a shitload of monsters, (complained the whole time)

When he finally got back to camp, he almost couldn’t believe how much it had changed. The place was PACKED with new campers (and they were not all cramped in his cabin like usual 😱)

And there were twice as many cabins too??? for the smaller gods???

Was he at the right place?😀 Was he actually dead?🧍‍♂️

Took a lot of explaining for him to believe he wasn’t

The thought of demigods not having to go through what he went through was incredible, but hard to believe

A bit bittersweet for him too

On top of that, it took a lot of time and effort to regain everyone’s trust on him

Even with all the new space available in the Hermes cabin, he had to sleep on the ground for a long time before his siblings let him have a bed 💀

He had to prove himself for a long time before everyone started opening up to him again

Slowly but surely, it started to happen!! Annabeth and most of the campers got back to speaking terms with him, Thalia visited sometimes and Percy was still a little sus every time they interacted (specially when Annabeth was in the room🤷‍♀️) but it eventually got better

It wasn’t the same as before of course, which made him feel…lonely most of the time. It wasn’t perfect, but he was grateful for at least not being completely ignored

Travis and Connor even stole a new pillow for him after a while of him sleeping without any 👏

Soon enough, life was almost normal again (as normal as a demigod’s life could get)

He did live with an imense sense of guilt and had recurring nightmares about what happened, accompanied with sharp pains on his chest, right where he stabbed himself

But it was a small price to pay for all the pain he caused, he thought

Eventually, he became head counselor of the Herme’s cabin again and Chiron gave him permission to teach sword lessons to the newest campers.

Life was as good as it could get for him, for sure

Though it definitely got a million times better with you in it

You were one of the new campers, practically Luke’s age when you arrived, which got yourself urgent self defense lessons with Mr. Castellan himself

He was the ideal person for the job, being the best swordsman on camp and all

Chiron also knew Luke had a way of making newcomers feel welcomed, being used to do it with practically every new kid in camp before the war

So, as Luke made his way to your first lesson, he tried to come up with a way to politely ask you how you survived all this time without proper training-

Only to give it up as soon as he laid his eyes on you

Of course you were a daughter of Aphrodite, you were drop dead gorgeous. Probably survived all this time outside camp by using the power her kids inherited, charmspeak

All of that was going through his head while he intensely stared at you without saying a word 🗿

Making you nervously eye him back 👁️👁️

Noticing you were getting anxious, he snapped out of it, the very tip of his ears getting slightly red

Quickly introducing himself as your new self defense teacher, he offered a hand for you to shake

To which you did after a bit of an awkward pause, nodding at his words. He seemed like a confident, nice guy

He took it you were a bit shy so he made sure to try and not to make you uncomfortable while teaching you some basic sword moves and techniques

You were doing your best to keep up but honestly felt like straight up dying everytime Luke asked you to repeat a move

The sword was heavy and the afternoon was hot, making you sweat profusely

That’s when everything went downhill :)

Your glasses just wouldn’t stay still in your face, the sweat making them slip down your nose every time you tried a new move

Right as you were about to swing your sword for the millionth time, your glasses fully fell off your face, making you flail the big weapon around uncontrollably

Coincidentally chopping a good amount of Chiron’s tail off, who was just passing by to check on your progress

Chiron promised he needed a new trim anyway, but that didn’t stop you from apologizing almost a thousand times and sitting down with your face buried in your hands

The situation amused Luke profusely, but he could also tell you were seriously beating yourself up about it

So after thinking for a while, he gently tapped you on the arm, showing you small scar he had on his forearm

He told you it was from his first ever sword lesson, but it wasn’t caused by a sword

When you gave him a confused look, he told you it was a consequence of accidentally poking a Pegasus’s bottom with a sharp weapon

You tried not to, but you laughed right at his face

Which made Luke smile as well, you had a cute laugh

After that, you slowly started opening up to your sword teacher, who actually got attached to you pretty quickly

Y’alls friendship was honestly precious oml, he absolutely LIVED for the fact that you were completely unhinged when y’all were alone, which got both of you a lot of inside jokes

When you first made a sexual joke in front of him he was completely shook

You were in the middle of training, making him accidentally cut a whole training doll in half after you said it

Who knew that something like that could come out of a shy person like yourself

He laughed and threw a dirty joke right back at you, but his ears were completely red in the process

The first time he had one of his pain streaks next to you he got really stressed out, not really wanting to talk about the origin of his injury

Partially because it was tremendously hard for him to talk about his past, but also because he was afraid you’d hate him for it

But you never pressured him to say anything, just sat beside him with a hand on his back for support, furrowed brows in concern as you waited for his pain to pass

He absolutely adored you for that

He didn’t feel alone anymore

He’s a naturally attentive person so he can always tell when you’re uncomfortable in social situations, always making sure that everything you’re saying is getting the correct amount of attention, even if he was the only one listening to it

Everyone knew he kind of had a soft spot for you (totally unrelated to the crush he was developing on you)

He always went easy on you at sparring lessons, just to absolutely humiliate whoever was next against him by winning in seconds

He sneaked food into your cabin when you absolutely could not stand eating with everyone else at the dining pavilion

(anyone else would probably get caught in the act and get absolutely wrecked by the harpies, but he was a son of the god of thieves so 😋)

Kept you close during capture the flag, not only to keep an eye on you but also because he absolutely LIVED for the fact that you were more scared of the bugs than the monsters who lived inside the woods

You dealt with the monsters and he jabbed all the bugs on the way, you made a pretty good team

It was pretty obvious he had a thing for you, everyone knew about it but you apparently

I mean, he stole got you a whole deck of mythomagic cards because he knew you were totally obsessed with mythology, the guy was pretty much down bad for you pls 😩

And honestly, you felt the exact same way

It was pretty clear in the way your face got full on red every time he had any type of physical contact with you

He adored it and absolutely did it on purpose just to get a reaction out of you

He wanted to let you know how he felt, he really did

But on top of not wanting to risk your friendship, he was deathly afraid you’d absolutely despise him after you found out about his past

It was only a matter of time anyway, but he was going to avoid it as much as he could

Although you found out way sooner and it went WAY better than he expected

It was a warm night and you were awfully quiet, more than usual

It wasn’t because your social battery went out. No… he knew something was up by the way you hugged yourself tightly, touching your face from time to time

He asked if you wanted to hang out by the beach for a bit, to which you silently agreed

Y’all sat in silence for a while, Luke giving you concerned side eyes from time to time

He eventually spoke up, saying you could talk to him about anything you wanted to, he’d listen

Your eyes watered a bit. You breathed out and eventually told him that some days, you had a bit of trouble accepting your current weight and your acne scars

You told him you were working on it but some days were harder than others

Honestly, he was bamboozled lol

He could never imagine someone as beautiful as you had those kind of insecurities

Before even thinking about it, he said you were absolutely perfect in his eyes

It was the first thing he thought when he met you actually

You almost choked on air bro WHAT

Your face was COMPLETELY red, about to explode🚨

Ears fully red after realizing how he slipped, he quickly continued, telling you that he also understood how you felt

He touched the scar he had on his face, lowering his hand to touch the one on his chest right after

You knew something bad had happened to him. But you also knew he had to tell you on his own terms

You just softly repeated what he told you

“You can talk to me about anything you want to, I’ll listen”

His eyes met yours and you were surprised by how much sadness they held in that moment

He shifted his gaze from you to the sand, taking handfulls of it just to let it fall from his fingers as he told you about his past

He told you everything

“You can… cut contact with me if you want to, I’ll understand-“

He was suddenly interrupted by you hugging him

He was surprised to say the least, arms slowly closing around you after some time as he let out a shaky breath

You both sat like that for a while before you told him that none of what he said changed the way you felt about him, everyone deserved a second chance

Wait

The way… you felt about him?

Oop

He pulled apart from you gently, still holding you close in front of him

“Exactly how do you feel about me?”

You had no choice but to confess, face fully red and straight up stuttering the whole time

He smile was HUGE oh my gods that little shit was enjoying every second of it

When you finished, you were trembling a bit, afraid you just ruined the best friendship you ever had

Imagine your surprise when he slowly leaned in, kissing you

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson books #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #the heroes of olympus #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #chalice of the gods #percy series #matchups #fanfic #fanfiction

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master-of-the-game · 4 months

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seeing you make oil paintings of elim garak has changed something about the way i perceive art, both in what others make but also in what i am capable of making.

it’s probably due to learning mostly euro-centric art history, but i’ve always thought of oil paintings as like the peak of painting ability? like, it’s fancy and it takes a while so i thought that it must be the best (ignoring the fact that my artistic field is mostly in acrylic paints and 3D sculpting and yet i still consider it very good). and i’m still working on disproving this sort of mentality that there are mediums inherently better than others, because it’s incredibly limiting to my creativity to impose a higharchy, and also it feels kind of xenophobic.

i digress a bit. point is, i’ve viewed oil paintings as a medium only deserving of gallery-type realistic portrait stuff, which is very much not what i do. i don’t make the sorts of fancy art rich people would pay for- the type of art i thought oils were for. i make paintings of comic book characters and sculptures of my personal heroes, i make jewelry and clothes and stuffed animals. stuff that i enjoy. which is good!

but still somewhere lurking in my brain was this voice telling me that on some level my works weren’t as meaningful or creative because they were fan works or made from materials i’m not an expert in or because the only people i draw and paint and sculpt are queer and trans, like me. that because my art was self-indulgent, on some level i suppose i thought it lesser.

but then i see your art. and holy shit! you’re work is INCREDIBLE! at first i was excited because, hey, i’m a big star trek fan, and garak is one of my favorite characters. i love coming across fan art of him, and it always manages to strike a chord with me. but then. as i looked at it closer, i realized it was on canvas. as i scrolled down i realize it was oil on canvas.

before, i’d pretty much only seen fanart as sketches on paper or digital drawings. one that is really only meant art-wise for quick sketches or planning of what will become “real” works, and one that doesn’t actually take up any physical space in our world, and is stored away in a little digital file.

but oil on canvas? that’s not meant to be thrown away, it’s meant to be held in gloved hands, as it is precious, and it’s not meant to be hidden away in the “files” on a laptop. no, those hang on the walls of museums or houses, meant to be displayed with pride for all to see.

and with those too colliding thoughts, that of fan works as some lesser form of art but oil paintings being the art of the rich and talented… well i realized that both were wrong. fan works are not in any way shape or form lesser than original works. what makes my layered ink painting of dream of the endless any less important than my painting of the ocean during a storm? nothing! they’re both good works. and on the other side, there is nothing that makes my oil paintings more important than my acrylic paintings or my sculpture or my knitting. it’s all art, lovely art, in the end. and the only thing that really matters is that i enjoy it.

seeing your art has helped me break some (minor) yet harmful thoughts i didn’t really even realize i had. so thank you for that. also your garak art is fucking good, and it really makes me think about what sort of life he would have after ds9. anyways, thank you. that’s what i’ve been meaning to say (that’s what this whole thing is). thanks for changing my vision for the better.

Oh wow! You know, it is very important and gratifying to know that results of your work make person rearrange their thoughts and views on something. Thank you for your sincerity! Now back to subject. I personally believe that fan work can be something fine and vice versa something fine can be a fan work. One thing that is very important to remember and remind yourself is that most of fine art that you've mentioned - gallery and most famous works (at least in european tradition) - are, well, derivative. Of Bible, of ancient myths. Yes. All this stuff can be considered maybe not fanart - but it is a subject for discussion - but illustration at least. And it is still fine art. Book illustrations - oh well. Sometimes I want to hang them on the wall, especially old ones. So - why not? Fan work always has a connotation of something derivative, and it certainly is... But just as well as most of the most prominent works. Dixi :D So that's the matter. Medium of course matters but medium does not always define the subject of art (except for common sense), as you've said. It's just maybe the cost of medium (some watercolor brushes for some reason cost... ehm. Too much :D) that defines its price, but not necessarily. I like thinking about this issue and discussing it... Plenty room for ideas. Thank you!

#star trek #art #fanart #artwork #my art #fanwork #oil painting #oil on canvas #art mediums #painting #graphics

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xsezzie · 1 year

Text

Kaveh no? Kaveh yes!

Apparently having a bad mental episode results in writing a fic for personal comfort? Anyway, Kaveh’s story has got me all messed up so I am letting him bully Alhaitham~

Warnings: It’s a tickle fic???

____________________________________________

“...”

Alhaitham and Kaveh sat next to each other on the couch, both staring. Today they both wanted to use this couch, and after an argument they simultaneously sat down in a huff, trying to move the other… or seeing who breaks first.

“Move, Kaveh.”

“No, YOU move!”

Kaveh was trying the elbow tactic, painfully jamming his elbow into Alhaitham’s ribs, earning a wince from the scribe. His efforts were mostly in vain as Alhaitham is built like a rock. Even when he started to use his entire body to try and shove his roommate, Alhaitham managed to stay in his spot.

“Stop… being… a child!” Kaveh grunted in between shoves.

“Oh, I am the child now? You’re the one who is trying to get physical with me…”

The Scribe pulled out a book from his pouch and began reading it, as if his roommate was not trying to push him. This only angered Kaveh more, “Seriously!? Just… UGH! Alhaitham come on!”

Alhaitham was secretly biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling, he turned on his earpieces and sat as peacefully as he could while the blond’s hands made contact with his shoulder and back, it was even starting to feel a little relaxing. That was until he felt Kaveh’s nails crawling at his side.

“Ah!!” The younger man jumped and made a squeaking sound, turning to look at the perpetrator with a faint blush across his face.

“Haha! What was that noise!? Do that again!” Kaveh reached to skitter his fingers along Alhaitham’s side again but the scribe gripped his wrist.

“Don’t… Kaveh…” He warned, trying to glare at him through his pink face.

“Don’t.. What~?” The architect smirked.

“Tickle me… it’s immature…”

“Tickle you? Sure!” Kaveh beamed as his other hand moved in and scribbled Alhaitham’s toned stomach.

“NO! K-Kaveh- that’s not what I m-meheheheant!!!”

“Oh? The great scribe can’t even avoid that simple trick huh? Time to punish you for all the annoying things you do!”

Kaveh went to town on his younger friends' sides and ribs, causing Alhaitham to squirm and let out strained laughter, he was trying his best to hold it in. The book was eventually thrown to the floor so that Alhaitham could fend himself better, though once Kaveh’s more nimble fingers got into his armpits he lost it.

“Ahh!! Hahaha!! K-Kaveh s-stahahahap!!!”

“No way I am stopping! You’re laughing! I never see you laugh! Tickle tickle tickle~!” The blond began teasing which made Alhaitham want to crawl into a hole somewhere. His face turned redder and he couldn’t remove his senior’s hands from his armpits without risk of them being dug in further. Eventually he decided in his ticklish state that perhaps trying to endure this until Kaveh gets bored will be the… more rational option…

“Pfff- gahahaha!!! P-Please… Kaveh quihihit it!!”

“Begging!? Now this is not Alhaitham… who are you!? What have you done with Alhaitham!?”

Kaveh moved his hands and dug his fingers into Alhaitham’s hips, causing him to buck and launch himself off the couch onto the floor.

“Hah! Now that was quite the reaction…”

“D-Don’t… Don’t even think about i-ihihihihitt!!!!”

The giggles started again as Kaveh jumped on top of him and began tickling again. He was sitting far enough up Alhaitham’s torso so that his hips were exposed and Kaveh only had to reach behind him to squeeze them. All the scribe could do was throw his head back in embarrassed laughter and squirm.

“Kaveehehehehh!!! Get of mehehehehee!!! I swear… you are… hahahah!!!”

Kaveh relished this new side of Alhaitham he was seeing. His flustered face and deep hoarse laughter was a sight and sound to behold. It almost seemed like he wasn’t making much of an effort to stop him…

“Alhaitham… are you… enjoying this?” Kaveh smirked down at his roommate, “You could easily throw me off, why aren’t you?”

Alhaitham paused for a moment, calming down before his face went back to its usual stoic look, albeit just a bit pink.

“I wouldn’t want to bruise your old and fragile body.”

“What!? Excuse me!? You’re dead to me now!”

Alhaitham tried to grab Kaveh’s hands but he wasn’t fast enough, the blond slid his fingers into his armpits, prodding and scratching softly. This was enough to send the scribe into hysterics.

“HAHA! KAVEH NOHOHOHOO!!!”

“Haha! Kaveh yes! This is what you get, you annoying brat!”

Alhaitham kicked and squirmed under Kaveh, he resigned himself to his current fate and allowed himself to laugh freely, this delighted the architect who continued to try various spots on his body.

“Ahh, this power… not so strong now are you!? Hahaha!” Kaveh switched to scribbling his stomach again, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his fingers, “There is something amusing about seeing you like this Alhaitham… I can’t quite put my fingers on it~” He begins to spider along his lower belly as he says this, causing the younger man to squeak.

“Gyah!! N-Nohohohoo!!” Alhaitham decides he has had enough and squirms enough to knock Kaveh off him at this point, crawling backwards away from his attacker, he started rubbing his lower belly trying to get rid of the ticklish sensations.

“Is this… what victory feels like? I shall bask in it!” Kaveh teased.

The Scribe couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle, there was something nice about seeing his former friend enjoying himself. He realised what he was thinking and quickly snapped out of it, the usual stoic scowl on his face wasn’t as strong when he’s all flustered however.

“Enjoy the feeling while it lasts, which will be about ten seconds…”

Kaveh paused in his teasing and stood with wide eyes, “Huh? What do you mean ten seconds? Wh- no no no wahahahait!!!”

#genshin impact tickling #tickling #alhaitham #kaveh #kavetham #haikaveh #lee!alhaitham #ler!kaveh #tickle fic

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heartfulselkie · 5 months

Note

How was year 2023 for you looking back ?

I'll admit I was going to say something along the lines of "Oh, it's been just another year! 🙃"

But you know what? No. It hasn't "been just another year." I've had so much happen this past year that I had to think for a good minute about it - because did all this really happen in a single year???

Yeah I've had my usual run of mental health slips. Some of them really bad.

But I've had so many wins this year too!

I finally took the time to really think about myself and feel comfortable in who and what I am. I finally said out loud to someone that I'm nonbinary. I talked with my counsellor about my issue with my physical appearance from my gender dysphoria. I came out to my family. I'm going by a new name now (socially at least), one that I feel better matches my gender identity.

And I started school again! After spending so long in such poor mental health where I couldn't even work, I'm now finally embracing doing something I love! I can finally say to my child-self: "You know what? You weren't wrong about wanting to be an artist. And you are good at it and love doing it!"

Yes, I'm doing an actual art course now! And I am loving every minute of it (even when the stress is high). I'm even planning on doing another year of it!

I've gotten friendly with the people in my class. It's been so long since I've had a physical, in-person sense of community. I thought it was something I'd never have again - but now I get to go into class and just talk with people and share dumb jokes. And its such a positive and supportive atmosphere! We're all artistic and of different lgbtq+ identities as well as neurodivergencies. (Through peer review it turns out I might actually fall somewhere on the autism scale - who knew? No wonder younger me was such a mess.)

For the first time in I don't even know how long, I've finally started to feel at least somewhat comfortable with myself. I'm done pretending to be a person I'm not and trying to fit other people's boxes. I still have my struggles and have a lot of history/traumas/whatever to process, but I feel so much better now that I finally feel secure enough to learn what kind of person I am. And I'm so lucky to be around people that are okay with that!

My family for the most part are accepting of where I am now. They don't really get "nonbinary", but most of them are still making efforts to use my chosen name. My relationship with one parent is still a trainwreck (I don't think its salvageable at this point tbh) but my relationship with my other parent has improved so much this past year. We now talk on regular basis and they have been my biggest supporter for both who I am as well as my artistic endeavours.

It's been one hell of a year. 2023 is the year I finally started feeling human. It's the year I started feeling like me again.

#my rough patches have been rough #but holy fucks the high points have been high #it's been a long time #but i'm finally doing and being what younger me though I'd never get to be #yeah everything's still a mess #but maybe it hasn't all been a waste after all #at least I can tell myself that on my good days #ask selkie

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 months

Text

Tech and Hondo Ohnaka (Part 3)

Rated: Teen and up (a rare general audiences fic on my part.)

Warning: Pain mention, fishing (death of animal for food), Plan 99 mention. Small bit of angst. Use of drugs / weed equivalent in the Star Wars universe.

Fic Summary: Tech is plummeting toward death, yet he is spared, all thanks to a Weequay pirate who was simply in the wrong place at the right time, depending.

Word count: 5.1k

Notes: This is a kind of crack / AU scenario. I like the idea of Hondo being the one to encounter Tech after his fall. The idea was definitely inspired my Phee's line at the end of season 2: "Well, don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers while you're gone,." :) Don't take this too seriously, though at the same time I tried to make it plausible. The main point of this was to have fun with Tech and Hondo ribbing each other in their own way. I love both of these characters, and I am excited to see what you guys think.

Chapter 1, 2 | Read on Ao3

Many a swipe of Hondo’s vibrocutlass cleared the path laid out before them, the brigand chopping down branches as if they had personally offended him. Eriadu’s jungle had thickened the deeper and deeper they strayed into the forest, the pirate at once assuring his partner in crime that the sound of flowing water somewhere beyond them was indeed a good sign, as it meant the lommite mine was not too far off.

Tech was relieved to see it, albeit blurrily -- clean water, serpentine, a bubbling stream winding up into the mountains with a waterfall at its head.

Perhaps it was the sound, reminiscent of rain or the calming waves of the ocean back on Pabu, that finally gave Tech pause both physically and mentally, the weary clone swaying on his aching legs as he came to a stop beside the water’s edge.

“We are so very close, my friend. Not tuu much farther, and—” Hondo picked up a motion just behind him, turning in time to see the Republic clone fall onto both knees like a ton of duracrete bricks against the soft earth below their feet. Gray eyes widened beneath four-sided frames, though the Weequay was hesitant to make any move to aid him. “—Hm?”

“I…” Tech trailed off, lethargically sliding off his pack as he sat down fully on his haunches. One arm came to lie against the bulk of his belongings as he leaned against it for support, chest expanding and contracting with each labored breath he took. “I must rest,” he conceded, mostly to himself.

Hondo sheathed his blade, birds scattering at the sudden unfamiliar noise that reverberated through the trees, high-density metal taking its place at his side. He gave Tech a cursory once over, though Hondo was surprised he had made it this far in his condition, expecting the clone to collapse long before now; he had to admit he was impressed.

“Here? Out en de open?” Hondo asked with an exaggerated, questioning lilt to his voice. He made a show of pointedly looking to the left and right as if checking for traffic, then sighed dramatically, lowering himself onto one leg so as to face the wounded man.

“Ef only we had a stim-shot, ah?” Hondo suggested, both the Weequay’s striated hands reaching out to grasp either side of Tech’s definitely-not-standard-issue helmet. Instinctively, he jerked back, Hondo’s fingers left stretched before him. He did not retreat, tilting his head inquisitively to the side. “Trust me, yes?”

Tech stared at him blankly through the cracked head-up display; it was his only means of viewing his surroundings. Against his better judgement, he did not move again; he was much too exhausted to protest any further.

Hondo set Tech’s unusual headgear off to the side, carefully, and almost with a kind of reverence. A helmet was indeed a thing of great import, and Hondo would treat it as such; he had not touched another’s besides his since Jango. Those in his employ did not bother to use such things, nor did he often come into contact with soldiers, conscripted or otherwise, that he wished to have for company for any length of time.

This, however, was a special circumstance, and one with a high payout!

“Hm…” the Weequay uttered, a low sound registering at the back of his throat. Tech found it somewhat difficult to lift his head, so the Weequay did it for him, two fingers guiding him upward as stormy irises pierced through transparisteel with severe intensity.

Hondo concernedly studied this…variant of his old friend's face, finding it hard to believe he shared the same DNA as the long-dead bounty hunter. He often thought of Boba, wondering if he would ever see him again, or if the younger Fett had no time for the old Weequay now that he was out to follow in his daddy’s footsteps.

Hondo tutted. Or was it more of a tsk? Tech did all he could do; he sat there and breathed, dark brown eyes never once faltering as the pirate observed, though he was unsure exactly what he was looking for. He supposed he was still a bit worried he would be left here on his own with the wild animals of the wood, not to mention the TK Troopers that were bound to not give up; should the last squad not return to base, Tech was positive another would be ordered to follow suit.

“Yes… “ Hondo drawled, releasing Tech from his grasp so suddenly that he had to steady himself, head lulling downward as his neck refused to wholly cooperate; his body felt entirely too heavy.

“We shall rest,” Hondo agreed.

---

“That is not wise,” Tech informed the man who was presently hunched over, Hondo’s crimson coat fanning out like the splendid feathers of some pompous bird - in either direction - behind him. The scoundrel squatted easily alongside a pile of varied twigs and branches that he himself had gathered, turning to speak from over his narrow shoulder.

“Juuust because your brain es bigger dan de rest of us does not mean I du not know what I am doing,” Hondo snapped testily, flicking the flint of his igniter stick in an unsuccessful attempt to light his recently collected bundle of kindling. The clone was ungrateful, if anything; Hondo had gone to quite a lot of trouble!

“Starting a fire in the middle of the woods by which the enemy will find us is undoubtedly a poor choice; it does not take a large brain to see the flaw in your plan, though brain size has a surprisingly small impact on intelligence and behavior; the relationship is tenuous at best.”

“Well, I can tell you are feeling better,” Hondo offered in complaint, not at all happy at being so discourteously reprimanded for something he had done a thousand times, on a thousand different planets! He had allowed the clone to close his eyes for over an hour, watching apprehensively Eriadu’s sun getting lower in the sky.

“I, for one, am hungry, and IIIIIII suppose you may be as well. Ef we are tu stop here en repose, den I shall utilize my time wisely and procure for us some delicious fish, ah? No need tu thank me, dhough et would be appreciated,” Hondo finished flatly, at once a bouquet of Mandalorian orange flames sparking to life like the blossoming of some alien, incandescent flower unfolding before his very eyes.

“I have a spare ration bar in my pack,” Tech answered dryly, though he would not trouble himself to check quite yet, finding that he was irritated by the Weequay’s blatant disregard of his urgent warning.

“En fact, you are less likely tu see de fire in de daylight. Ef I wait any longer, poor Hondo will starve while you eat your nasty, chewy, flavorless nutrient—" he stalled, thinking of an appropriate term to emphasize his disgust, “—brick.”

“I am in no position to swiftly vacate the premises should the need arise,” Tech responded, reminding him of the predicament he was in; to not be at his best when TK Troopers – or worse - could be lurking anywhere nearby was disheartening. Tech was not used to being unable to fend for himself.

Tech was not sure if he had been heard, as Hondo kept his back to him, busying himself with something in one of his many pockets. It was impossible to make out what it was, and Tech would not bother to try, though the air was now inextricably pervaded by the smell of something sweet, and pungent.

The Weequay stood, complaining about his back as he straightened out, two fingers pinching the end of what looked like a hand rolled cigarra as he languorously sucked off the end. “Yes, I can see dat,” Hondo finally replied with a dismissive wave, smoke exiting through his broad nostrils.

Tech pulled a face, opposed to the distinct odor that now permeated the vicinity, his eyebrows furrowing to give off the appearance of two displeased caterpillars inching their way toward the bridge of his nose. “Is that necessary?” he asked sharply.

“Marcan herb,” Hondo offered without answering his query, another plume of smoke diffusing outwardly as he exhaled. “Would you care for some?” Hondo questioned, what could only be described as an impish grin spreading across the entirety of his face.

“No,” the clone returned, his tone laced with obvious distaste.

“Pity—” Hondo faked a pout, one foot rising so that the heel of his boot could press down against the top of the other; he was beginning to kick them off in preparation, Tech imagined, the unlit end of the tightly rolled cigarra being held down within his easy reach, “—it might… help with de pain, hm?”

For a moment, Tech wondered about it. He was never one to partake of illicit substances, but the amount of pain he was experiencing was substantial. Still, he would not let that override his common sense, head turning so as to avoid the brunt of its biting stench. “Absolutely not,” he stated with resolve. “It is important we keep our faculties intact and remain on high alert.”

“Make nooo mistake, my friend-- we will be high. Another reason tu try et.” Hondo’s grin grew wider, though how this was possible, Tech was unsure. However, this did not elicit a response, Tech’s deadpan expression the only reply Hondo would receive.

The Weequay shrugged, working to dislodge his other boot; the socks came next, much in the same manner. This left him barefoot, Hondo placing the Marcan herb back between his lips as he once more unsheathed his cutlass to stick it in the ground, hilt up. “I can tell you aren’t any fun,” he flippantly insulted, “probably de least fun out of all your brothers.”

“Fun is subjective,” Tech returned, beginning to fiddle with the crushed bits of metal and circuitry that made up the remnants of his datapad. “While this—” he held up the broken components for Hondo to see, “—is fun for me— that —” he made a gesture toward the water and where Hondo was now rolling up one pant leg at a time, “—may be fun for you.”

“No, et es a necessity,” Hondo snapped, the ridges of his brow furrowing in annoyance as he pulled another drag from off his herbs without it ever leaving his mouth. Hondo retrieved his sword, the vibrocutlass humming like the buzzing of a busy bee as Hondo waddled ankle-deep into the cool stream, this time the Weequay’s expression contorting toward something unpleasant–- he did not like the cold, nor being in the water. It was at times like these that he missed his hot, dry ball of dust; Florrum would always be considered home-sweet-home.

Tech sighed, inspecting a loose wire. “I am willing to share.”

Hondo would have laughed, but it would frighten the fish, so he refrained, voice deepening as it came out a dark gravel. “Not until Mustafar freezes over will I eat dat.”

“Well, you certainly have your priorities in line,” Tech said offhand, reaching for a tool that would aid him in his repairs; he sighed again when he realized it was not there. It must have been lost in the fall or during one of the subsequent misadventures he had since meeting this odd fellow.

“And you do?” Hondo asked disdainfully. “You are tinkering with your toys when you should be resting, ah? Dis es why we stopped, es et not?”

“It is not a toy,” Tech chastised him, “it is a highly complex electronic device used for inputting, storing and displaying information – this one is customized to my own specifications and is useful for all manner of things, including communication.”

“And et. es. broken,” Hondo stressed, lunging at the water only to come back empty-handed. “Stop talking! You are scaring away my prey.”

Tech did not say anything one way or the other. He was fine not speaking to the pirate, as all conversations seemed to wind up as petty arguments.

Hondo broke the silence barely ten seconds later; it appeared he was the one unable to be quiet for any length of time. “Tell me, what else du you du for fun, hm? Dis… fleeing from de Empire must be a favorite little pastime of yours.”

Tech smirked as he finally began digging around for that ration bar he was positive he had in his pack; being constantly on the move and expending copious amounts of energy meant the mostly tasteless, nutrient-dense foodstuff was a must to keep on hand. “Are you asking a legitimate question in an attempt to get to know me, or is this a ploy to find out why I am a wanted fugitive?” he inquired matter of fact.

Hondo scoffed like an affronted dandy, flicking the ash off the end of his joint. He adorned a little smirk of his own to counter Tech’s, taking another jab at something just beneath the surface. “Can et not be both?” he asked.

“There are many things I find ‘fun’ or intellectually stimulating,” Tech informed him plainly, “though living each day as if it might be my last is not of particular interest to me.” He frowned, as he was unable to locate the edible item he had been set on eating within the next few minutes. Everything had its place he reminded himself, although his pack was somewhat in a disarray as was to be expected.

As if cashing in on the interconnectedness of Tech’s statement with that of the task he had set out to perform, Hondo slung his arm back and around to dislodge a rather large fish from off his blade. It flew forward, landing in the dirt near the clone’s feet; it was both bleeding and gasping for air. Tech was at least able to make out that much, the pirate having pierced the gill-bearing vertebrate through its belly seconds prior.

“Dis es an issue of skill, a lack of comprehension on your part,” the scoundrel returned, “for even dhough you might not be chased by de Empire tuday, tumorrow, or en de weeks dat follow, someting will kill you. Eventually. Like dis fish, ah?” He gestured toward the flopping creature. “Be et soldiers en white armor, food poisoning, a knife en your back from a beloved friend—” Hondo made a stabbing motion toward the water for emphasis, “— or perhaps ef you are lucky, old age.”

Tech did not claim to know everything, though this was one insult he took to heart. He knew exactly what he had intended; it was the Weequay who did not comprehend his meaning, and he deigned to correct him, even though he was confident it would be a wasted breath. “I know what life is, and the inherent meaning therein. What it is to live, and how fortunate it is that I have been gifted a life at all. As for aging, ours is accelerated. I shall meet my end sooner than you are likely to meet yours.”

Hondo feigned extreme concentration, though he heard every word. “You are missing de point,” he retorted breezily.

“Perhaps you assume clones are not in touch with their own mortality, being programmed as soldiers.” At that moment, Tech remembered; he had given the last of his rations to Omega the week before. Their arrival to Ord Mantell had been delayed, and she had been hungry. He thought it was the right thing to do, though unsure why it had taken him this long to recall the event; Tech was beginning to wonder just how hard he had hit his head. “I can assure you we are destined to think more on it because of that fact, not less.”

“Iiii never said any of dat,” Hondo said begrudgingly, capturing what was to be his second kill of the evening. He began to wade back toward shore, fish in tow, tossing it down to join its brethren beside the fire.

“Take me, for example. I am a pirate. What I du does not come without ets dangers, dhough I am of course highly aware of de gambles I take.” Hondo sat, crossing his legs. He placed his vibrocutlass in the dirt, then retrieved a smaller blade from out of one of his endless pockets; the Marcan herb was pinched on the right side of his mouth, hanging loosely from thin lips.

“Dat es what makes life so special, my friend - enjoyable - de not-knowing-what-es-going-tu-happen-next part. De risk dat death es waiting right around de corner! Et has taught me not tu take any moment for granted, not even dis one, en de company of a know-it-all who maybe knows less dan he tinks, hm?”

Tech only gazed forward, unable to differentiate between much of anything but the dancing flames and the vague figure of the Weequay whose hand was working at something in his lap. When a particular smell hit his nose, like brine, or seaweed, that is when Tech knew the fish he had impaled was being gutted open, Hondo cleaning the pair in order to cook them over the crackling campfire. “You are saying that I should find enjoyment in running from the Empire.”

“Not exactly, but yes,” Hondo grinned once more, slapping guts and bone down onto rich soil where it would decay and feed many creatures, as was intended by the great circle of life, “for ef you are running, dey have not yet captured you. Personally, de thrill of de chase makes me truly feel alive,” he finished.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose you are correct,” Tech admitted, never really thinking from that perspective before. Obviously, it was always deemed favorable to have one’s freedom, though he wondered what it would be like to relax – to have time to do those things he wished to do.

Being born and bred a solider did not mean Tech particularly enjoyed the missions that he was assigned, or only insofar as he could learn from his travels across the galaxy, but on the other hand stationing himself somewhere, like Pabu for example, would also be beneficial; less time fighting meant more time for research into those realms that truly awestruck and inspired him.

“Of course I am!” Hondo belted, jolting Tech back to the present moment; the pirate refitted the now clean fish onto the tip of his sword. “I did not make et dis far being wrong. Besides—” Hondo added, plucking the rolled herbs from his mouth, “— I am sure joy finds you en every daring escape. You have a family tu consider, yes?” Hondo gave Tech a sidelong glance as he flicked the butt of his smoke into the fire; it sizzled in indignation before settling back down into a controlled burn.

Tech replaced the broken bits of his datapad back into its holster the best he could, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position so as to squint at the Weequay who was a blob of red some few feet away. “Yes,” he responded dejectedly, thinking on how worried they must be – more than that. Tech presumed he was thought to be dead, and he supposed he ought to be if not for this perplexing pirate. “At least I do not have to worry about them searching for my remains.”

“Hmm, indeed… “ Hondo rotated his wrist, turning the fish he had skewered on the end of his cutlass so as to roast them evenly throughout. “You mentioned earlier de source of de explosion… Perhaps dey think you nothing more dan ashes?” Gray eyes scrunched as if he was deep in thought, “I found you very far from dat… place on de mountain with de bad, bad men… Es dere a way down from dere dat leads intu de forest?”

The Weequay’s inflection was inquisitive, yet also riddled with skepticism. Tech felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that he may have to once more tell a little white lie, not sure how the pirate would react to knowing he was the inadvertent cause of his ship’s destruction. Although, they were beginning to build up a rapport. Hondo had said to “trust him.” Tech wondered, could he be trusted? He remembered at one point doubting Phee.

“Not precisely,” Tech started, though he was betrayed; his stomach growled, interrupting him. He was almost glad of it. Perhaps it would be enough of a distraction so as to derail the current topic of conversation.

Hondo’s head turned, slowly, as he simultaneously twirled the fish clockwise so as to cook its underbelly. “And just where es dat bland bar of excrement you were so excited about?”

“It seems I was incorrect,” Tech said, voice quieting, “I gave the last of my rations to Omega.”

Hondo tutted, laughing lightly as he shook his head. “You clones and your fancy names.” Then, he changed his tune, reminding himself of his past. “I suppose I cannot blame you, for I also chose my own name. You see, Weequay have no need for names outside our clan. Et es only when we live amongst non-Quay we take on a personal name. I liked Hondo. Et es a good, strong name.” A partial tale; Hondo would keep the more intimate details to himself.

Tech did not have anything to say to that, though he enjoyed learning this tidbit about his culture.

“Here!” Hondo stretched out his cutlass, blade first. “Eat,” he commanded sternly, Tech feeling somewhat apprehensive as the smell of fresh cooked fish invaded his nostrils.

“They are yours,” he responded.

“You were willing tu share, no? Well, tuday, so am I,” Hondo replied simply.

Tech hesitated a few seconds more, then extended his arm. It took him a moment, as he wanted to make sure not to cut himself on the pirate’s blade. “I thank you,” Tech stated in appreciation, removing one roasted fish for his consumption and leaving the other for the man who had made this meal possible; he took a bite. It was actually quite tasty.

Hondo severed a cord of flesh with his teeth, eating the fish from off his sword as if it was the leg of a nuna and the blade was its bone. The scoundrel studied the clone across from him, then took off his own helmet. He stood, then walked while eating, scooping up a generous measure of water within its bowl.

“It is good,” Tech offered in compliment, though he was not much of a conversationalist when it came to small talk. Still, he felt some sort of acknowledgement was warranted.

“It is, isn’t it?” Hondo agreed, walking back in Tech’s direction so as to douse the lapping flames into nothing but embers that would dwindle and die out. “Now, where were we?” he asked, setting his helmet on the ground. It was the first time Tech could see the whole of his head.

The clone paused mid-bite.

“Ah yes, so tell me, how did you escape? Dinner and a story - one of my favorite tings.”

Tech would take a moment to chew thoughtfully, his mind concocting something he could tell the pirate while also not fully incriminating himself. Lying was not a habit he wished to maintain, though he was still a mite unsure if he should tell the entire truth.

Tech took a breath, then began. “On the way out of the facility, we encountered some problems.”

“Yes, you mentioned dat…��

“Not only did the presence of Saw Guerrera complicate matters, but the TK Troopers did as well.”

“I can imagine,” Hondo affirmed with a mouthful of food.

“My brothers, sister and I were, how you say, making our ‘daring escape,’ when the railcar we were traveling in took on heavy fire and ground to a halt in midair.”

“A sister?!” Hondo asked enthusiastically. “Surely not biological?”

“Yes, Omega is an unmodified, enhanced female clone created from the genetic template of the Mandalorian bounty hunter Jango Fett.”

“Unmodified?!” Hondo nearly spat out what he had been chewing, “like Boba?”

“Boba. Yes. I have heard there was another.”

“Not just any other, my friend, Jango’s son.”

Tech paused, contemplating the complexity of that statement and what it could mean. Technically, this Boba would be another carbon copy of the donor, and ‘son’ was nothing more than an honorary title given to one particular clone left in Jango’s questionable care; he would be the Alpha to Omega. “I see.”

“Du you?” Hondo asked, leaning forward. “Why, what a marvelous ting. I wonder, did he know? Did Jango know he had a… daughter?”

Tech did not have the answer to that question. “I am unsure, though evidence points to no, as Omega has never mentioned her—” he paused, not liking the inaccuracy of the descriptor he was about to use, “—father. She has also never mentioned interacting with the template when he was living on Kamino.”

“Hmm…” Hondo hummed, taking another bite, “so very interesting. Anyway—" the pirate would save his thoughts for another time, “—continue,” he encouraged.

Tech did not want to continue, but he would do so anyway. “I was steps away from rejoining my squad when I was forced back by enemy fire; I left them temporarily in order to restore the power to the railway, but ultimately was unable to reach them.”

“Ah yes, de rail entu de mountain. I believe I passed under it on my way en,” Hondo interjected. “How unfortunate,” he added; Tech would be reluctant to confirm Hondo felt any true sympathy for his plight.

“The tail end of the railcar was pulled from off its track; it was weighing the other down, and I was caught beneath it, as during the explosion I regrettably slipped.”

Hondo’s eyes were widening incrementally, increasing in circumference with every new detail. “Yes, yes—”

“I was… trapped on the other side, hanging by a literal thread as Imperial V-wings would inevitably make another pass. Not only that, but a second car had stalled on the track opposite; it was filled with Imperial soldiers. The tram would have pulled all of us down had I not disconnected its coupler from the other car.”

“Annnd… how did you accomplish dis?” Hondo asked, jaw working as he nibbled at another bite of roasted fish.

“Plan 99,” Tech said, a twist of sadness wracking his heart as he envisioned the devastated expressions of his siblings as he fell to what he thought would be his demise.

Hondo waited; the forlorn tone coating the clone’s voice was a clear indication that this was indeed a sore subject. The pirate could be patient when he wanted to be; it always paid off in the end.

“Self-sacrifice,” Tech further explained, “for the benefit of the squad.”

Hondo seemed to understand, his gaze hardening as his demeanor became all too serious. “A fall from dat height would… How did you…” he trailed off; Tech wondered if he had just answered his own question. Still, he thought it best to tell the truth regardless.

“I severed the connection. The railcar fell with me. I landed on top of your ship. The velocity at which you were traveling provided enough distance so that you did not suffer a direct hit, however your engines sustained enough damage that you lost control and ultimately crashed.”

Hondo’s face radiated displeasure, askance eyes tapering into pinched slits, yet for a moment he remained quiet; Tech took the opportunity to try and soften the blow.

“I dove over the edge at the last possible second in order to increase my chances of survival; I fell through the trees and wound up on the forest floor. That is when I awoke to find you attempting to rob me of my boot. It was a calamitous series of events,” Tech concluded, at least satisfied that overall he felt less guilty now that everything was out in the open.

Nothing disturbed the silence that sprawled between them except for the effervescence of the stream behind them. Tech could not read faces particular well, and much less so when he did not have his goggles. After a few more agonizing seconds, birds scattered as Ohnaka let his anger flow freely out of his open mouth.

“What!” the pirate shot up, jerking his arm downward with such intensity as he stood that the rest of his meal slid off his cutlass and hit the ground with a dull, muted smack. Then, he brandished the blade outward, the tip mere centimeters from Tech’s nose. “Den dis is all your fault!”

Tech could only agree. “It was not intentional,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm.

“My ship … my men! Dey are all dead because of you and your brother’s shenanigans!”

“I am sorry.”

“Sorry does not even begin tu cover et! And!” Hondo’s arm bat at the air in his exasperation, though he was gracious enough not to cut Tech’s head clean off with the sword held tightly in his hand. “You made me believe et was de Empire! Dat es almost as bad as lying!”

Tech found it hard to believe the pirate had never himself lied to anyone, though he was at a loss at how to thoroughly apologize when the whole ordeal bad been out of his control. “You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or, the right time, depending.”

“Truer words have nevvvver been spoken!” he practically spat, Hondo taking to reclaiming his socks and boots right after he hastily sheathed his sword and retrieved his helmet.

“What are you doing?” Tech asked, a touch of nervousness lacquering his inquiry.

“Leaving! You! Here!” Hondo proclaimed, his outrage present in his hostile tone and erratic body language.

Tech shifted, retrieving his bucket to place it on his head, as if he himself might assay to stand and follow. “We had an agreement,” he informed him, as if he had forgotten.

“Dat was before I knew your gallivanting across de galaxy cost me my most favorite ship! And lives!” Hondo idled for a moment, a look of sorrow stricken across his face. “Fortune and Glory, will we ever meet again…”

Tech stood, ineptly refitting his pack, as Hondo began to march in the direction of what he assumed was the lommite mine without him. “I do not wish to be left here on my own,” he called after his retreating form, swallowing down the hint of anxiety that had begun to spread throughout his chest, joining the ache of his ribs.

“You told me to trust you,” Tech emphasized in a last ditch effort to appeal to his humanity, limping past the remains of the campfire as he ambulated awkwardly forward as quick as his legs allowed.

“And so you did!” the pirate said with a dry, humorless laugh. “Dat, my friend,” Hondo shot back bitterly, “was your second mistake.”

Tech could do nothing as he was left alone, a swirl of crimson the last thing he would witness as Hondo Ohnaka abruptly departed, taking what little hope Tech had left of getting off this planet along with him.

#Hondo Ohnaka #Tech #TBB #Tech tbb #The Bad Batch #Clone Wars #Star Wars #fanfiction #my writing #Friends in Low places #clones #pirates #AU #Tech's not dead #clone force 99 #galactic empire #eriadu

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