#I miss braids!noah

[thefallennightmare]

Oh ya know, just doing a little light reading before bed. JP-Chapter Nine 😭😭😭😭

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst, crying, anxiety

Series masterlist

Noah’s living room felt warm, the golden light of late afternoon spilling in through the window, creating a calm atmosphere. You were sitting on the couch, a thick blanket draped over your legs. Luna, wearing her favorite bunny sweater, was sitting cross-legged beside you, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Noah was leaning back on the couch, clearly trying to act annoyed but already failing.

Luna had been waiting for this. His hair had finally gotten long enough for you two to try braiding it, and you was more than eager to help.

"Okay, Noah, hold still," you said, your voice light and teasing as you ran your fingers through his locks.

Noah groaned dramatically, half-sitting up with a roll of his eyes. "Why do I always let you do stuff like that to me?"

You smiled at his grumbling. “Because you love it,” you teased, your fingers working through his hair with practiced ease, slowly pulling it into sections. His hair were soft, and you loved the feel of them between your fingers.

Luna, who was sitting beside you, held up the first hair tie, her tiny face serious as she inspected it. “Here, this one first!” she declared, raising her little hands as she held the bright purple tie out to you.

"Thanks, Luna," you said with a smile, taking the tie and gently securing the first section of his hair. “We’re doing a great job.”

“Yes!” she chirped happily.

Noah, pretending to scowl, leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “I don’t know why I let you both do this to me. I'm the only one suffering hare."

You leaned over and kissed the side of his head. “Oh, come on, it’s not so bad. You’re gonna look great.”

“Mh. Sure” he muttered, but the soft smile on his lips betrayed him.

Luna passed you another hair tie, this time a bright blue one, eyes wide as she eagerly waited for the next step. She was in full-on “helper mode,” even though she didn't quite understand the mechanics of braiding yet. It was adorable. You were doing most of the work, but she was right there beside you, picking out the ties, handing them over with excitement.

"We don’t have the pink one!" She suddenly declared.

You turned to Noah, feigning concern. “Oh no, we definitely need the pink one, right?”

Noah gave you a sidelong glance. “Sure, we definitely need it,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but he couldn’t hide the little glint in his eyes.

You smiled and watched as Luna rushed off to her bedroom to find the missing pink hair tie. Turning back to Noah, you continued working on his hair, gently weaving the strands together. As you did, you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked like this—relaxed, with his hair half-braided, the strands falling in soft locks around his face.

"You look cute like this," you said quietly, your fingers brushing through his hair again.

He shifted slightly, his lips curving up just a little as he turned his head toward you. “Mh. You think so?” he asked, his voice quiet but with that familiar playfulness beneath it.

You nodded, your fingers still working through the strands. “Yeah, really cute.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering for a second. His eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, the teasing smile replaced by something warmer.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his fingers finding your hand and giving it a soft squeeze. Then, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. Gentle and slow.

You pulled back slightly, smiling at him, as Luna appeared in the doorway, holding up the missing pink hair tie triumphantly. “Found it!” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she ran back over and handed it to you.

“Good job,” you said, taking the tie from her and getting back to work on the next braid.

Noah adjusted himself on the couch, his hand resting on your thigh as you continued braiding his hair. His touch was slow, almost absentminded, but you could feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric of your jeans. With his other hand, he reached down and pulled Luna up beside him, his fingers gently rubbing her little back as she settled against his side.

"You’re doing great," you said to Luna, giving her a reassuring smile as you worked.

Luna nestled into Noah, her head resting on his arm. "I’m the best at this,” she whispered almost to herself, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Noah laughed softly, his hand still gently rubbing her back. He glanced at you, his gaze soft and affectionate, before leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

You leaned back and admired your work, the little braids now neatly secured in place. "Yeah. Definitely cute," you said.

He couldn't help but chuckle.

The next day, Noah stepped into the the band's living room, Luna bouncing ahead of him as she ran toward the group. The guys were lounging around, but as soon as they saw Luna, they lit up.

“Whoa, look how tall you’re getting!” Jolly exclaimed, crouching down to Luna’s level. “You’re almost as tall as me now!”

Luna giggled, standing on tiptoe and puffing out her chest. “I’m this tall!” she said proudly, arms stretched high above her head.

Noah leaned casually against the doorframe, smiling at the interaction. “Yeah, except she’s the shortest in her class at daycare,” he teased. “She didn’t get that from me.”

Folio, lounging on the couch with a sly grin, chimed in, “She got it from me then. Being tall is not the most important thing, you know?”

Noah rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Dude, we’re not even related,” he said, shaking his head. "You remember that, right?"

Nick couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah, sure."

Matt, who had been quietly watching the exchange, leaned forward. “So, Luna,” he said, “what are we gonna do today?”

Luna’s eyes immediately lit up. “We are drawing!” she exclaimed, poiting to some sharpies and pens she left on a little table in the corner of the room the last time he was there. “I draw big flowers and rainbows, and sometimes cats. And daddy. And Y/N. And you uncles.”

Nicholas leaned in with a grin. “You draw cats? I really wanna see one."

Luna nodded seriously. “I can draw you one! But only if you color it with me.”

“Deal!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m an expert at coloring!”

Folio raised an eyebrow. “Hey, does that mean you’re gonna be a famous artist one day?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled as she thought about it. “Maybe! I’ll make big art and sell it for a lot of money. Then I’ll buy ice cream!”

The group laughed.

“And you, Uncle Folio?” Luna asked, her tone serious but playful. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

“Well, I’m pretty good at playing the drums. And I like fishing."

Luna looked at him with a bit of disgust painted on her face. "I don't like fish."

"I'm better at making music, don't worry."

Noah, who had been watching the interaction with a grin, suddenly caught himself thinking about Jason. He almost wanted to talk about the situation with the guys again but he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Maybe next time.

Luna turned to Noah and gave him a big smile. "Daddy, are you going to draw with me too?”

Noah chuckled. "I think I’m better at making music than drawing too.”

Luna frowned playfully. “I think you can do both.”

Noah smiled softly, already talking a sharpie in his hand. “You’re right. I can do both.”

You talked with Jason for the second time three days later.

The Breakfast Nook was rather quiet, that morning. You were behind the counter, chatting with Noah, who was sitting on the bar stool at the counter, drinking his usual cup of tea.

The bell above the door chimed softly as it opened, and when you glanced up, your heart did a little stutter when your eyes landed on Jason.

He was standing in the doorway, framed by the light that poured in from the street. He was wearing a light brown jacket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the tattoos on his forearms. His blue eyes scanned the room with an almost unsettling intensity, like he was looking for something specific.

Noah noticed him at the same time you did, and there was a sudden shift in his posture, a subtle but undeniable tension in his shoulders. You could see the way his eyes narrowed as he took in Jason’s appearance and the way he moved into the coffee shop.

You turned back to the espresso machine, trying to stay composed, but you could feel the weight of Noah’s stare, the quiet energy between you both, shifting.

"Uh-oh," Grace’s voice cut through the quiet of the shop. Her tone was sharp and knowing as she peered over from behind the register, her eyes already locked onto Jason. “This is gonna be fun."

You shot her a glare, but she was already smirking, knowing that something was about to happen.

Jason moved toward the counter, his gaze fixed on you. As he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but feel the heat rise in your chest. You hadn’t seen him for three days, and now, you couldn’t deny the unease that curled up inside you as he stood there, so close.

“Hi,” Jason said simply, his voice smooth, low. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes held a sort of curiosity, as though he was waiting for something, perhaps for you to speak first.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice steady. You waited for him to order, but instead, he just stood there, silent, looking at you.

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Noah, who was staring at Jason now, his fingers curling around his teacup. The air felt thick between the three of you, and it was only a matter of time before Noah broke the silence.

“Hi,” Noah’s voice was surprisingly firm as he stood up, his posture protective, his gaze not leaving Jason’s. “I’m Noah. Her boyfriend.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. You didn't expect that.

Jason’s gaze flickered between you and Noah, a slight raise of his eyebrows betraying his surprise, but he didn’t react immediately. Grace, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused expression, snorted quietly to herself behind the counter, stifling a laugh.

Jason finally talked. “Oh, uh, hi, man. I’m Jason. Yeah, I’ve heard of you,” he said, his voice polite, but there was something beneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. His gaze lingered on Noah for a moment before Jason extended his hand, waiting for Noah to shake it.

Noah didn’t move, his hands still firmly wrapped around his teacup, his expression unchanging. Jason’s hand remained outstretched, but Noah simply stayed there, eyes locked on Jason.

“Good,” Noah said finally, his voice low, almost bored. He didn’t offer his hand in return.

You felt like the tension in the air was thick now, almost palpable, as if the room had stopped breathing. Jason just nodded once, like he’d accepted the silent challenge. Then, without a word, he turned his attention back to you, lowering his hand.

“I’ll just have a cappuccino. To take away,” Jason said, his tone casual as if nothing had just happened.

You nodded quickly, your fingers already moving to prepare his order. He was still watching you, and for some reason, it felt like he was studying you, trying to read something in your face.

He paid for his coffee, gave a nod of acknowledgment to Noah—who didn’t respond—and then turned to leave. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air felt charged as he walked out of the door, the bell chiming softly as he left.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Noah’s gaze stayed fixed on the door, a frown tugging at his lips. “I don’t like him,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tight. “I really don’t like him. He was looking at you the whole time.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to shake off the feeling of unease Jason had left behind. “Well, I work here, Noah. It’s kind of my job to be looked at.”

Noah’s jaw tightened, exhaling a sharp breath as if he were trying to hold back something.

Grace, who had been watching the whole thing with an almost painful amusement, decided it was time to throw in her two cents. “I work here too, sweetheart,” she said. “But he was looking at you.”

You shot her a look that could kill, but Grace didn’t seem to care. She just smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos she’d just witnessed.

“Are you seriously gonna act like that wasn’t weird?” Noah said, his eyes not leaving the door, his fingers drumming restlessly against his mug. “He was practically undressing you with his eyes.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice sharp, trying to deflect the growing tension. “You’re being ridiculous. He’s just a customer like anyone else now.”

Noah shook his head, his brows furrowing in frustration. “Yeah, of course."

Grace chuckled and you shot her a pointed look, which she ignored again, and tried to focus on the customers coming in.

“Well, I'm going to the studio,” Noah muttered, his hand going to his jacket as if he were about to get ready to leave, but you stopped him with a quick touch to his arm.

“Wait,” you said softly, though you could still feel that knot in your stomach. “Are you... are you mad at me?"

Noah hesitated, but then he sighed, rubbing his temple. “No. No, I'm not. I just don’t like him,” he muttered again.

“I know,” you replied quietly, glancing back to the door where Jason had just walked out. “But it's okay. We're okay. Don't worry."

"Mh."

"Come here."

You leaned over the counter to kiss him before he left and when you felt his little smile against your lips, you immediately felt better.

"See you tonight?"

"See you tonight."

The soft glow of the nightlight flickered in the corner of the room, casting a warm, comforting light across the space. Noah was standing by the side of Luna’s bed, his hand gently brushing through her hair as she settled under the covers.

“Cozy, huh?” Noah said softly, pulling the blanket up over her tiny form.

“Mmhmm,” Luna hummed, snuggling into the pillow, her eyelids drooping. She yawned, then blinked up at her dad, her voice small and sleepy. “Today, Emma was talking about her mom.”

Emma was Luna’s friend from daycare, a year older than her, but that was not the important part of the conversation.. He turned slightly, making sure to keep his voice calm, even though he could already feel the weight of what was about to come.

“Was she?” Noah asked, his voice soft, carefully measured. His stomach twisted.

Luna nodded slowly, her little face tired but curious. “Yeah. She asked me how my mom is like.”

Noah was sure his heart skipped a beat. He swallowed hard, trying to find a way to keep the conversation light. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And what did you tell her?” he asked, though he already knew what the answer was going to be.

Luna shifted in the bed, tucking her tiny hands under her chin, her brows furrowing slightly. “I said... I don’t have one.” She paused, then, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, asked, “But why don’t I have one, daddy?”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, Noah’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes stung with something he didn’t want to face. The question was so innocent, but it was also a reminder of what he couldn't keep.

His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed a lock of hair from Luna’s face, trying to steady himself.

Luna’s big eyes were wide now, searching his face, waiting for an answer. Noah’s heart ached at the trust in her expression, the way she needed him to make sense of something that was far too complicated for a little girl to understand.

He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to stay steady even though it trembled slightly.

“Look, princess...” he started, his voice a little strained. He paused, taking another breath before continuing, trying to put the words together in a way that would make sense, in a way that wouldn’t hurt her.

“We are a very special family. Your mommy, when you were very, very little, decided not to be with us anymore.” His chest tightened with the words, but he kept going, pushing through the lump in his throat.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that I love you so much, Lu. You’re my world. And I’ll always be here for you, okay? No matter what.”

Luna blinked up at him, her sleepy little face taking in his words, though the understanding wasn’t fully there. She was too young to really grasp the weight of what he was saying, but Noah could see in her eyes that she trusted him. That was enough.

“Okay,” Luna said softly, her voice already drifting off, the sleep overtaking her once more. “Yes, daddy.”

Noah smiled faintly, relief flooding through him, even if the pain of the conversation still lingered in his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly but not too much for Luna to notice.

"Love you too." Luna’s eyes fluttered shut, her breathing steady as she finally sank into sleep, her small form finally at rest. Noah stayed for a moment longer, just watching her peaceful expression.

Then, with one last glance, Noah stepped back from the bed, pulling the door open just enough to slip out.

He gently closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch echoing in the stillness of the house.

For a moment, he just stood there, in the dark hallway.

It was when he heard your voice that he realized he was crying.

You were still on the couch when Noah when to put Luna to bed, telling you he would be right back.

You heard him closing the door of his daughter's beroom behind him after a couple of minutes, the soft click echoing in the quiet hallway.

Then only silence.

You waited for a moment, thinking that maybe he stopped in the bathroom but you didn't hear any footsteps, so you stood up and walked towards the hallways, flipping the light switch on to figure out what was happening.

You saw him as he took a couple of slow, heavy steps away from Luna's room, his head slightly down, his posture tense. He wasn’t conpletely facing you yet, but you could tell something was wrong.

You walked toward him instinctively, your heart aching just from the way he was standing even before you realized that a single tear was slowly crossing his cheek.

When you reached him, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “Noah. Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond immediately. But then, as if the words you spoke somehow unlocked something inside him, his breath hitched. A shaky exhale left his lips, and suddenly his body wracked with sobs.

Your heart broke. You had never seen Noah cry before—let alone like this. Never had you seen him so vulnerable, so completely shattered. The sound of his sobbing felt like it was ripping through the stillness of the house, and it pierced you deep in your chest. Without thinking, you moved closer, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to hold him together the best you could.

“Baby… what happened?” you asked, your voice trembling with concern.

Noah just shook his head, the sobs coming harder now. He couldn’t speak. The weight of whatever was tormenting him was too much to bear, and you could feel the rawness of it in every tremor that ran through his body.

You held him tighter, trying to soothe him, but his shoulder kept shaking under your hands, and you knew there was nothing you could say or do to stop the storm inside him. You pressed your cheek to the side of his head, whispering over and over again, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s okay.”

You felt the tears against your neck, and your own eyes began to sting as you realized just how much he was suffering. You gently cupped his face, wiping away some of the tears, but his pain wasn’t something you could erase.

All you could do was hold him, let him cry, and be there.

After a while, when his sobs had calmed just a bit, you reached down and took his hand in yours, guiding him to the bed. He followed you wordlessly, his movements slow and unsteady, as if he were in a daze. Once you sat him down, he immediately let himself fall onto the bed, his head resting against your stomach.

You settled under him, pulling the blanket over you both, and began to run your fingers gently along his back and shoulders, trying to calm the trembling in his body. He hid his face in your shirt, his breath still shaky as he tried to steady himself.

His arms wrapped loosely around you, but it was as if he were clinging to you for dear life.

“I’m here, baby,” you whispered softly, gently scratching the back of his head, “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

The minutes stretched on, and you felt his breathing begin to steady.

You didn’t rush him. You didn’t push him to talk. You just kept whispering comforting words, running your fingers over his skin and through his hair. You could feel the weight of his fears in every soft exhale, and it only made you want to hold him even tighter.

Eventually, he spoke. “Luna asked why she doesn’t have a mom.” His words trembled as he said them, and you could hear the guilt in his voice. “And… it just... it stirred something in me. I’m always so fucking scared. I’m scared I’m not enough for her. I’m scared of messing up, of not being a good enough dad. I let her mom leave... I should’ve done something. For her. I should’ve—”

You shook your head, your fingers brushing over his hair, softly. “No, baby. You are enough. You’re an amazing dad, Noah. Luna loves you so much. You did everything you could. Nothing that happened is your fault."

Noah’s breath hitched again, and he buried his face further into your stomach, his voice muffled but still desperate. “And I’m scared I’m not enough for you,” he said, his words barely audible.

“I know you love me, I know you wouldn’t leave me, but I can’t help it. I’m scared, baby. Every day. Every time I wake up and you’re not next to me, I'm always so fucking scared and I feel it in my chest and I don’t even know how to explain it… and now, with Jason back, I don’t know. I just feel like… like I’m not enough for anyone. Like I'm about to lose you.”

His words almost physically hurt you.

You could hear the rawness in his voice—the depth of his insecurity, the weight of everything he was carrying.  You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, your hand moving gently along his back.

“Listen to me,” you said, your voice firm but gentle, “You are enough, Noah. I've already said it and I'll keep repeating it. You’re more than enough. You’re an incredible dad, an incredible boyfriend. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. And I love you so much.”

Noah took a deep breath, the shaking in his body starting to subside. You continued to stroke his back, between his shoulder blades, your hand moving in slow, soothing circles, trying to ease the tension still gripping him.

His breathing began to steady, and though he didn’t say anything more, you could feel him start to relax under your touch. You could feel the fight slowly leaving him, the fear and the guilt starting to soften.

His hand moved up to rest against your chest, fingers gripping your shirt as if he were afraid to let go. You let him do it.

And as the night went on, you just held him, whispering reassurances, your fingers always gently caressing his back.

Your t-shirt was damp with his tears, but you didn’t care.

You weren’t going anywhere. You wouldn’t let him go through this alone.

Eventually, Noah’s breath grew even, his body still against yours, the last of his tears falling on your shirt. You kept running your fingers over his back for a little longer, ensuring that he was calm, letting the gentle rise and fall of your chest be the rhythm he could settle into. When you were sure that he had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, you allowed yourself to relax as well.

You stayed there, the sound of his steady breathing the only thing filling the quiet room.

You watched him sleep for a few moments.

And only then, you let a few tears fall from your eyes, that, landing on your shirt, mixed with Noah's.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicolelynn @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog

[iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning]

Noah Sebastian (Part 2)

🥀: Angst

🪻: Fluff

🌹: Smut

🌺: Suggestive but no smut

Oneshots

@measuredingold :

‘heaven sent’ (absolutely god tier fic) 🌹🪻

‘coeur d’alene’ (part 2 to heaven sent^) 🥀🪻🌺

‘i was free in the fall’ 🥀🪻

best friend! noah part 1 🌺 part 2 🌹

@somebodyels3 :

‘cleanse me with pleasure’ (another absolutely god tier work) 🌹

@iwasntstable :

'never just friends' (yet another god tier piece of writing) 🌹🥀

‘stay til’ morning’ (part 2 to never just friends ^) 🥀🪻

‘happy birthday’ 🪻

‘when i miss you’ 🪻

‘tired?’ 🪻

'is it true?' 🥀🪻

@thefallennightmare :

‘What It Cost’ 🥀🌹🪻

'Bad Decisions’ 🌹

@veronicaphoenix :

‘to hold you, to heal’ 🥀🪻

‘under the stars’ 🪻

‘until the stars stop shining’ 🪻

'wrapped in winter embers' 🌹

@yarasdead :

‘CYBERSEX’ 🌹

first time with best friend! noah part 1 🌹 part 2 🌹

@concretecultist :

‘Kingdom Come’ 🌹

‘Pomegranates & Pleasure’ 🌹

'Sacrilege' 🌹

@darksigns-exe :

‘dors encore jusqu'au jour où tout ira bien’ (sleep on until the day when all is well) 🥀🪻

‘the manic rhapsody’ 🪻

‘devour me’ 🌹🥀

@poppy-in-the-woods :

'Braids' 🌹

@rprise :

'moonlight' 🪻🌺

'night drive' 🪻

@thewrstinme :

'Immortalised in stone' 🪻🌹

'You always do that, don't you?' 🌹🪻

‘You want to act like a brat? Then I’ll treat you like one’ 🌹

@kaliforniahigh :

haters to lovers (doesn't have a title) 🥀🌹

@valiantroeagleangel :

'Beg for it' 🌹

@into-the-grey :

'Until You're Resting' 🥀🪻

@magnificentstrawberryomen :

'warm and alive' 🌹

@concreteangel92 :

'The Angel Of The Night' 🥀🌹

period sex 🌹

@malice-ov-mercy :

stepbrother noah and toys (doesn't have a title) 🌹

@deathblacksmoke :

'love is a gentle thing' 🪻

‘sink into your sunlight’ 🥀🪻🌹

@silent-stories :

'2.30 AM CHAMOMILE TEA' 🥀🪻

‘The Sound Of You’ 🪻

@tikosblogg :

‘A Helping Hand’ Part 1 🌹 Part 2 🥀🌹

@foreverlittlesoshi :

‘the center of my day’ 🪻

@silentglassbreak :

'Anything More Than Human' 🌹

'Skin' 🌹

@sykesandskittles :

'ZERO' 🌹

@omensandwonders :

'i can't be saved' 🌹

@idwt-money :

'Sleepless Nights' 🌹

@bluestdai

‘Shadowbound’ 🥀🌹

noah x reader x folio :

@concretecultist :

threesome (doesn't have a title) 🌹

@sorrowsofsilence :

'Threefold Desires' 🌹

noah x reader x davis :

@artificialbreezy

threesome (doesn't have a title) 🌹

@livingdeceasedgirl :

'The Hills' 🌹

Series

@thefallennightmare :

‘One Night’ (god tier shit right here)🌹🥀🪻

‘Miracle’ 🥀🪻🌹

‘Just Pretend’ (more absolutely god tier shit) 🥀🪻🥀

@veronicaphoenix :

‘The Inevitability Of Love At First Sight’ (god tier as well) 🥀🪻🌹

@silent-stories :

‘To Build A Family’ 🪻🥀

Brother’s best friend! Noah 🪻🥀

[iwasntstable]

✧₊⁺ 𝗡.𝗦. | 𝗧𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗?

| WORD COUNT: 574 | RATING: SFW | CONTENT TAGS: fluff | When you're too tired to do your hair, Noah is more than happy to help.

➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

NOTE: My hair is getting long and it's starting to drive me insane.

Your day was long, and you were tired. Only just managing to shower before collapsing down on the couch next to your boyfriend. 

“Tired?” Noah asked.

You hum in response, eyes closed as you towel dry your hair before trying to detangle it. The sound of some celebrity chef cooking show low on the TV in the background.

“Come here, let me help,” he says softly, taking the towel from your hands and patting the couch between his legs. “Sit down here.”

Too tired to even question it, you slip off the edge of the couch to the floor and scoot between his knees. Noah leans forward, gathering your hair gently, hooking the towel underneath, and begins the process of patting your hair dry. Tenderly splitting it into smaller sections to dry it quicker. “Did you want to brush it?” he asks, leaning around to see your face. You sleepily nod, and he gets to work with a smile on his face. 

Starting at the ends, carefully teasing the brush through the tangles and kinks until it comes out smooth. Moving up higher and higher with every section until half of your hair was almost dry and tangle-free. 

“You’re good at this,” you sigh, leaning back further against the couch.

“My hair was longer than yours, remember?” He chuckles quietly.

You smile at the thought of him detangling his own mane of hair, settling comfortably against his legs as he worked.

The act was surprisingly soothing. You were never one to let people mess with your hair, all throughout your life. Having long hair as a kid and your mother scraping your hair back into a tight ponytail that would leave you with a headache and a sore scalp by the end of the school day. Or the way hairdressers always wash your hair so aggressively, water getting in your eyes and a crick in your neck from the weird angle of the sink that never seemed to be the correct height for you. 

But Noah was so gentle, he’d whisper the occasional “sorry,” but you didn’t know what for. You didn’t feel a single tug or pull—no pain. The heaviness of your eyelids gets the best of you, feeling sleep creeping up quickly.

“Want me to braid it for you?” he asked when the brush ran through from top to bottom smoothly. You nod against his leg. He chuckles again, holding your head up in his hands. “Sit up just a sec.” He runs the brush across your head, gathering all of your hair smoothly at the back, whispering “okay,” when you could lean on him again.

Your body felt heavier and heavier as his fingers deftly worked to tame your hair. Again, as gentle as a summer breeze, you could barely feel him. Leaning against his leg felt like the comfiest thing in the world, and as he secured the end with a hair tie, declaring his work “done,” you were already fast asleep.

He pulls the towel away, leaving it in a pile next to him on the couch. He'll hang it up to dry after he gets you to bed, but for now, he just wants to watch your peaceful face as you sleep between his legs. Leaning down to lay a soft kiss to the crown of your head, feeling like the luckiest man in the world to be able to share these moments of simple domesticity with you.

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[keyaho]

.summary: terry and blaire are in shambles while aaron and brennan make things more official. .word count: 6k+ .co-writter: @zillasvilla

Blaire stood in front of her vanity toying with the zipper on her dress. The white dress was covered in red and blue flowers. She accented it with red jewelry and heels. Even Noah’s outfit for Sunday service matched. A red button up polo shirt and tan slacks. She had blown her hair out, the kinky texture creating volume. One side was pinned back in a twist. 

As she was getting dressed, Noah’s father, Terry, was getting him ready. He had brought over his clippers and it was his first big boy haircut. For the past seven years she kept Noah’s hair braided and she’d miss the way he fell asleep in her lap while she did his hair. He was already asking to spend more and more time with his Dad. 

Another frustrated grunt fell from her glossed lips as she tried pulling up the zipper, but once again, it caught on the inner fabric. She rolled her eyes and held the dress as she walked down the hall towards Noah’s room. Blaire could hear them talking and she called out to them as she came into their line of sight. 

Terry wasn’t dressed. His slacks were on and so were his shoes, but he was shirtless, holding their son’s head still as he lined up the back. Blaire looked at the sink. Her son’s curls in a dark brown pile. She turned around, the tears forming in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to cry over his first hair cut, but seeing his hair gone sent her over the edge. 

Noah looked at his Dad after seeing his Mom walk back to her room. He knew she was going to cry over his hair. 

“Mommy cries a lot,’ Noah says. 

Terry stopped cutting and straightened up. “What do you mean?” 

”She cries a lot?” Noah wasn’t sure what else to say. “Sometimes I can hear her in her room.” He shrugged.  

Terry finished up Noah’s haircut and sent him to the kitchen for breakfast. Terry walked down the hall towards the main bedroom, where he used to lay his head. The door was cracked and he looked in to see Blaire trying to tug the zipper on her dress. Every now and then she’d sniffle; a sign she had been crying. He pushed open the door and slowly walked in. It was still decorated the same, earth tones. There was more green though he noticed. The wall behind her bed was painted in a rich emerald. The four poster bed was draped in green and brown sheets. There was a thick white comforter on top and tucked in between the pillows was a Lambchop puppet she had since she was a kid. It never left their bedroom. Her. Her bedroom. 

“You’re going to rip it,’ Terry whispers, coming up behind her to still her hands. She avoided his gaze as he looked at her in the mirror. “Blaire,’

"Not, now, Terry.” 

He placed one hand on her hip while the other zipped the dress easily. She moved to step away but he stopped her. His hands pulling her hips backwards. 

“Just listen to me, please,’ he asked. When she didn’t move he came to stand in front of her, his hands still holding her. 

There were moments when she trusted him enough to touch her, because he was quick to drop those hands where they shouldn’t be. However, when he wanted to be serious they stayed on her hips. He needed physical contact.  

“I miss my wife.” 

This had been the longest they went without being under the same roof. Yeah he was kicked to the couch a few times, or the guest room, but when she asked him to leave the house he knew he had fucked up royally. It’s been almost a year of him renting an apartment because she didn’t want him in the house. Not while he was still entertaining Summer from Rebel Ridge. And it was never like that. Blaire knew about his issue down there and what happened to Summer. She was a recovering drug user and he felt like he had to keep an eye on her. So much that it came between him and Blaire. 

“You haven’t divorced me and I think that’s because you miss me too.” 

Terry read her face and could see the truth in her eyes. He hadn’t been the only one to notice how they started to gravitate towards each other again. It wasn’t awkward at family dinners or when they had to sit beside each other. In fact, he had been able to rest his hand on her thigh. He remembered her curling her hand around his while she ate. Those moments of tenderness he missed. 

She hadn’t worn her wedding ring in months. Her hand felt light and odd without it. He still wore his. It hurt him a little to know he had upset her to that point, but she never explained how she was feeling so he was in the dark on what he himself had done. He apologized over and over to her, but he didn’t know what was holding her away from him. 

“Noah,’ she begins, shifting the focus to their son as she always did. 

“I’m talking about you. Noah is good. You’re not.” 

Blaire scoffs. “What are you talking about?” 

Terry got closer and her hands fell on his thick biceps. She could still feel the heat from his body and the bare skin was smooth to the touch, like it always was. He smelled good. He always smelled good. Blaire found herself relaxing in his arms, his scent, and the feel of his thick body against hers. He smelled like oak and pine, the outdoors, and something smokey. It was like smelling the earth after it rained. Terry knew just what to do to get her guard down. She let him do it every time. His hands rubbed her sides, pulling her back from the brink of crying again. She was such a crybaby. 

“There’s my girl,’ he coos. “Tell me why you’ve been crying.” 

“You need….,’ she stuttered, ‘you need to put on a shirt.” 

He let her go with a smile, but grabbed her hand as he was walking away. She followed him to the guest room and he made her sit on the bed while he finished getting ready. They could hear the tv going and knew Noah was waiting for them. As he did every Sunday. 

Terry was up to one night a weekend and he always picked Sunday night to stay over. It allowed him to see Noah off to school at the start of the week and he felt Sunday’s gave him more time with Blaire. 

“Why are you sitting there like that,’ he asked, frowning as she picked at the hem of her dress. 

She looked up and shrugged. “Because whenever you sat me on the bed you were scolding me for something. Acting like my damn daddy,’ she mumbled. 

Terry had been over protective since the day they met. He walked on the side of street when they were out, he opened her doors, held her hand when she wore heels because he knew she got tired, his jacket was hers while he was drenched in the rain, the list went on and on. Terry was what social media called a ‘traditional man’ or ‘masculine’ by their gendered stereotypes. Full on Daddy kink with him and he took it seriously. Despite all that, and despite her own independence, she liked that he made her feel helpless, she just hated when that turned into hopelessness. 

Blaire could go get all the jars in the kitchen and he’d stand there and open them for her, but she couldn’t tell him how much he had actually hurt her seven years ago. 

“Don’t leave out how much of a brat you can be.” He tsks. 

Blaire watched him pull a blue shirt from the closet, the material was stretchy but if it was the shirt she bought him, then it wasn’t going to stretch much. That shirt was sized perfectly. He slipped his arms into it with his back to her. She watched him tuck the shirt in and add a belt. 

Terry was rough around the edges. Always had been. He played football in high school, went to the Marines right after, she knows he does a few classes at the YMCA for boxing and still keeps up with his jiu jitsu training. When he wasn’t at those places he was hauling concrete slabs and shit with her father. He was blue collar through and through and at one point him coming home was the highlight of her day. She didn’t mind working and coming home to cook for him. He made her feel safe enough to do it. He never took advantage of it and when he would come home to her having forgot or was behind he’d step in and do it. 

Terry was damn near perfect. Except he was so damn helping. His morality being his vice. He would stretch himself thin trying to help and it would push her away. 

“I can’t begin to fix what I broke if you won’t tell me, dushi.”

“We don’t have time before Church to talk about this.” Blaire stood up and headed for the door. 

Terry would normally let her go, to not stir up another fight, but he was tired of her running. In a few strides he was in front of her, closing the door. 

“You can’t keep running from this Blaire.” 

“I’m not running.” 

Terry rolled his eyes. “We’re going to have this talk tonight. Or,’ he sighed. 

Blaire leaned back from him, crossing her arms at this point. “Or what?” 

“I’m done. No matter how much I miss you, if we can’t clear this up, I’m done.”  

The light from beneath their door shined through the cracks and her soft humming filled his ears. Aaron groans while stretching out his legs and swinging them over the bed. The morning sun was starting to peek through the windows as he squinted. He could feel when she wasn’t in bed, her side having been cold for a while. He reached for his glasses, the thin frames sitting on his nose as he stood up and stretched.

He sifted through large brown moving boxes–some of them labeled as clothes or shoes. They had yet to finish unpacking, living out of boxes in the shared bedroom. He and Brennan had been together for three years before finally moving in together. He finds what he needs in one of the smaller boxes, while picking his phone up. He checked his messages while peeking through the small crack of the bathroom. Her rich complexion shines in the mirror. Brennan’s hands were working the small black flat iron over a small section of hair.

Aaron: Come do Bre’s hair in two hours Nique: It's 4 in the morning. You're not about to sweat out her hair. Aaron: I will pay you. Nique: Text me a time.

Aaron shakes his head while putting his glasses back on the dresser. Her soft humming gets louder as he walks in the bathroom. Her eyes found him through the mirror.

“Gud mɔnin, ɔni”. 

Aaron’s morning voice was something Brennan had to get used to. It was deeper, raspier, and certain words just came out in that thick Krio accent that he husked in ear on the nights she used to stay in his town home.. Aaron’s lips leaned over to kiss her cheek. Brennan relaxes against him as his arms circled around her waist. This was their first Sunday morning together. They were used to parting ways the night before or she was already at her mom’s place. Aaron had become a nice change to her morning routine, usually sitting up with her, a book in hand while she did her morning routine–stealing quick kisses here and there. 

“What I say about talkin’ to me like that.”

Aaron only speaks in Krio when he wants to fluster her. She had learned what a few words meant.

“Oni.” Honey.

Brennan’s fingertips stroke lightly on his arms, the pads of them rubbing along the visible veins. The time on her phone reads four-thirty. Service started at 11, and she knew her momma was gonna have some words if they didn’t make it on time. She bites her lip. “Service starts at eleven, baby.”

Aaron turns his head into her neck, pressing soft gentle kisses along the length of it. “Mhm. then why are you up so early?” Her hair was already down, Nique had come over the day before and blown and pressed her hair–and here she was going over it when she didn't have to. He preferred it in its natural state, loving the way her curls bounced and framed around her face.

“You know how my hair is.” Her eyes closed at the feeling while he opened his eyes to watch her in the mirror. The curves of her body, and the swell of her breast covered in a thin silk material that stopped mid thigh. Her breast jiggled beneath the dress, he could see the outline everytime she moved. “Can’t be late for Church either.”

“We're making a baby.” Just as quick as he turned her around, he had her sitting on the sink, pushing his way between her thighs and making the nightdress bunch at the waist. His green eyes scanned over her features with a bit of his lip.

“Aaron.” She feels his fingers sneak up the material, his hands warm against her skin. She leans forward to wrap her arms around his neck.

7:30

Aaron sat up against the headboard with different hair products scattered around him as he adjusted Brennan's head in his lap. Their early morning session led to her hair getting wet in the shower. He had already texted a friend to come fix it, but decided to speed up the process by helping her blow dry and braid it. Brennan comfortably fell asleep during the process as his thick greased fingers parted and braided the last side of her head. 

He would've been done sooner but he found himself watching her sleep;  the rise and fall of her back, the way her nose and eyebrows scrunch together when she was dreaming about something. How she let out soft whines when he moved to grab some more grease into his fingers. 

Her hair soft between his fingers was braided down to the crown of her head He secured the last braid to the others with a clear rubber band.

“Didn’t I just do your hair?” Dominique asks. She had come over to fix her hair-having seen the braid down Aaron did, she sped through securing the wig for her. She spoke through the comb between her teeth. Her right hand held onto bonding spray–the left covered her eyes as she shook the can and sprayed wig glue across the wig cap. 

“A-a-ron thought it be a good idea to fuck in the shower.” Aaron in the guest room taking a shower. They had set up in the dining room–the only room set up with higher chairs. They only had an hour before they had to leave and now she was rushing to finish. 

“And you let him?” While she let Brennan’s hair air dry a little, she put up the stuff she brought, leaving out what she would need to style her hair. 

Brennan bites her lip, watching her face through the decorative mirror that she finally unpacked and made her Dad put up for her.. 

“Well this is our first morning in our first house.” Brennan was sentimental–everything always had a meaning for her and Aaron being the sappy man he was fed into that shit. The two were joined at the hip.. Dominique didn’t understand why they were hiding it. 

“Girl.” Dominique shakes her head–she has a blow dryer in hand on high heat to speed the drying process.

“What?” She bites back a smile. 

“You and him might as well be married.” She finishes, sectioning off the hair to curl the ends. “That man ain’t letting you go any time soon.” Dominique was the only one outside of her family that knew the two of them were really together–catching them both at the gas station down the street from Melanin Preparatory Academy.

Brennan stood between him and the car while he pumped gas in her car. His free hand rested on her hip as they talked–Brennan hid a smile behind the drink she was holding, whatever he was saying to her had her flustered. She had never seen Brennan so soft. 

“Kinda don’t want him to.” Brennan bites her lip.

Aaron had walked into the room fully dressed. He was simple when it came to fashion–especially when it came to church. The brown turtleneck shirt fitting loose around his frame-larger sizes gave his arms room to flex. A pair of black dark washed jeans that stacked a little at the ankles. She caught a whiff of the cologne he was wearing. Clive Christian. The wood spiced  scent made her wonder who else he was trying to smell good for. He glances at her frowning face with a chuckle.

He sets down their coffee to walk over to where she was sitting.

Dominique, having already finished the last curl, turned away to pack up her stuff. 

Aaron leans over Brennan to keep her seated in the chair. She had to tilt her head up to look at him. The smell of him was stronger than the moment before and she knew for sure it was about to linger on her. 

Their lips smack against each others in a quick, but lingering kiss.

“Fiks ya fes.” He whispers against her mouth before pulling back. 

Brennan’s mind was jumbled as he walked away. He grabbed the black mug and the caramel scent hit her nose as he sat  it on the table. Coffee–made exactly how she likes. He held his own while moving to sit in the den, the large tv playing several highlight reels and a few stack of papers and a stapler.

“Nigga-”

“You got until I'm done or we're gonna be late.” 

“I'm almost done.” Dominique curled the last few pieces of hair. Brennan was lucky she had bought a new wig. She didn’t like the length of it but knew Brennan would. “Are you dressed already?”

“Yeah, just gotta put my shoes on.”  

Brennan had already put on a black silk button up, and her own black jeans. The only thing she could get to with Aaron's clothes in the way. The closet was too small and she was really close to calling her dad to build her a new one. Brennan can feel the mist of hair spray being put on her hair, letting her know she was done. Aaron was half-way through with his task when she looked over at him. 

“You're stapling papers?”

“First day of school tomorrow and picture day.” He answers like she doesn't already know. He was the reason they were probably gonna be late. “Where's your shoes?” He looks back at her down to her pretty brown feet, toenails in a sharp white color- a small gold anklet peeking from the leg of her pants. The same one that dangled over his shoulder while he thrust–he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. If it was him they would stay home, but her mama would beat his ass if she knew he was the reason they were late. 

“I'm going to get them.” She pulls Dominique in a quick hug and thanking.

Aaron shook his head, turning around to pack up the last stack of stapled papers. He could hear hear race up the stairs and Dominique packing the last of her stuff and jiggling her keys. 

“Alright, I want my money Aaron!” Dominique rushes to the door, pointing in his direction.

She expected he would Zelle it to her until his voice echoes to her.  He had looked up just as Brennan comes around to stand in front of him. She wore a pair of black wedges that he was sure she was going to pull off in the truck.

“It’s by the front door Dominique."

She spots the bills peeking out from under the key bowl. It looked like a good four hundred.

 “Oooh! And you tipped! I see you big spender.” She grabs the money, pocketing it into her purse. “Bye girl, I’ll see you tonight.”

Once the door closed he pulled Brennan into his chest as he stood up. “You look real good.” He kisses her cheek and moves around her to grab his keys. “Let’s go before your mama beat my ass.” 

Sunday Service had been particularly short compared to the long services they were used to growing up– but they weren’t complaining. The sun beamed down on them as they exited the church. Aaron and Terry had gone to grab the car, Noah going along with them so the AC could be running before they got in. Brennan and Blaire waited for their mom to finish talking to a few friends back inside. They probably wanted her to cook for the next church potluck. 

“Thank you, again Angela.” 

“Alright, see you,” She waves at one of the other church members while coming down the steps to stand in front of her daughters with a shake of her head, she follows Brennan’s gaze to Aaron who was tossing Noah, their nephew in the air and catching him. She places a hand on her hip as Blaire completely ignores Terry looking at her.

“That was Ms. Gladys.” 

“Mhm.” Brennan hums, eyes never leaving him even as he gets in the truck.

“She said she dreamt about fishes last night. Brennan, are you pregnant?” 

“Why are we talking about this on the lord’s steps?” She looks confused trying to figure out what she’s talking about. Blaire laughs from behind her. “And why are you asking me? Blaire could be pregnant.”

“Don’t put that on me.” Blaire stops laughing and points her finger at her sister. “He’s already been bothering me to talk all week.”

”When are you going to tell him?” Brennan asks, not caught up on the latest Blaire & Terry episode. “It’s been seven years, Blaire, the man has practically groveled at your feet.” 

She knew her sister was right, but, if anything, she was scared. Not of Terry, but actually losing him. His ultimatum from this morning was heavy on her. The sudden fear of not having him at all? 

“He’s not going to wait long, Blaire,’ their mother added. 

“I know!” She hissed. Brennan and Angela looked at Blaire with wide eyes. “He told me that this morning. Either we figure it out or he’s done trying.” 

The last thing she wanted to do was tell her mother and sister what Terry had said, but pretty much everyone was on his side and they didn’t fully understand how she felt. 

“Wait,’ Angela softens her tone at Blaire’s somber expression. 

“He said what?” Brennan chimed in. “Oh he’s serious this time.” 

They quickly changed the subject when Aaron and Terry came back. Noah was already in his seat. 

“Y'all ready,’ Terry asked, his eyes on Blaire and she rubbed her arm. 

“Hell yes,’ Brennan shouts, then covers her mouth when Angela smacked her arm. “Ow, my bad!” 

Terry held out his hand as Blaire reached for the rail. She took his hand and let him guide her towards his truck. Confused, she looked over her shoulder. 

“Where are we going?” 

Terry stopped at the truck and leaned her against it. “I need to know now.” He says. 

“What? You said we would talk tonight,’ Blaire replied. 

“I don’t want to wait. I don’t want you to have time to give me some politically correct answer. I want to know now.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Do you want to stay married?” 

“Yes!” 

Blaire looked up at him. The word falling from her mouth with little hesitation made Terry feel slightly better about where this was going. 

“Do you want me back in the house?” 

She nodded. “All the time.” 

Terry was confused then. She wanted everything he wanted but she was pushing him away. 

“Then why are you so upset with me?” 

“Can we talk about this with a bit more privacy?”  

Everyone was waiting by the other car, staring in their direction. When she looked over his shoulder and waved, they all jumped- pretending they weren’t watching. 

“I don’t want to be church gossip.” 

“Come on so we can eat!” Brennan groans from the backseat of her mom’s car. “Noah, tell your parents to hurry up.” She glances at her nephew.

Noah looked to his aunt with a ‘do you think I’m dumb’ expression. 

“We’ll just see them at the house.” Angela waves them off. “And why ain’t you with Aaron, Bre?” She looks at her youngest daughter in the backseat. "Why are ya'll always I my car?"

“He said he had to talk to Daddy about something.” she shrugs, pulling off her heels. “Men things.”

“What he got to talk to him for.” Angela shakes her head. “Markus better not be at my house, Brennan.”

Marcus parked the truck in front of Angela’s house. He cuts the engine while looking over at the passenger side. Aaron had been quiet the whole ride. His leg bounced nonstop and he could see the nervous posture he had.

“You gon speak or what?”

Aaron didn’t get nervous often. He usually keeping his composure in any setting, however talking to Brennan’s dad about something so important. He just couldn’t shake the anxiety he was feeling right now. His hands were clammy as he wiped them on his jeans.

“It’s about Brennan.”

“Yeah? Something wrong?”

“No. No.” He sighs finally making eye contact with Marcus whose face was etched with concern. “She perfect… I just wanted to ask you something.”

“You want my blessing.” Marcus asks him, seeing where he was going with the conversation.

Marcus had half expected for them two to elope or have a Vegas-style wedding. His youngest daughter was his wild child. He’s learned over the years that she was mini-Angela. He thought she would be the one to end up with Terry, the both of them were hot heads-however Brennan wanted Aaron. “Thought you two would elope.”

Aaron lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t look him right in the eye. Marcus takes that silence for an answer to a question he didn’t even have to ask. “When.”

“June 17th.”

Marcus thinks of the date, turning in his seat to look at Aaron, an oh wow expression on his face. “And on her Birthday too.” He has to open the car door and get out, confusing Aaron and making him get out to. He stuffed in his hands in his pockets. Marcus walk around the front, stopping in front of Aaron in disbelief.

“So why are you asking me for my blessing. You did it behind my back already.”

“I wanna do it right this time.” Aaron could see another car pull into the driveway.

The doors open, Angela, Brennan and Noah. The three of them heading into the house.

“Right my ass.” Marcus grumbles. “What are you gonna tell me next, that she is pregnant?” Aaron makes a face and turns around, he jogs up the brick steps just as Marcus yells out. “Yo, Aaron! She better not be!”

Angela and Brennan had set the table, Noah in the other room, watching cartoons. The food was catered from Cajun Station, the scent of fish that lingered from being warmed in the oven masked by a lit candle. Brennan had snuck pieces of of shrimp to snack on, sneaking a few pieces to Noah.

“You’ve been gaining weight Bre.” Angela says from the kitchen. “You sure you ain't pregnant.” She brings the conversation from earlier backup. She noticed a certain glow to her and it wasn’t because her and Aaron finally moved in together.

“No mama.” She groans wondering where her sister is. She moves to look out the window. Aaron and her dad were still talking. She watched as Terry’s truck pull in.

Blaire slid out the front seat having stopped by the house to change. She switched to a white sundress and sandals. She had a bag in her hand and Terry’s half smile could be seen from the front porch.

”Stop looking at me like that,’ Blaire says.

“It feels good,’ he replies, while shutting her door.

“What feels good?”

“To know my wife missed me.”

He leaned in as if he was going to kiss her but instead pulled the bag from her hands to carry. The front door opened and the screen smacked against the wall as Noah ran towards his parents. Their private moment was interrupted, but Blaire knew it was going to be a long night.

“Let’s get inside, Terry,’ she pushed at his arm, guiding the son back towards the door. He followed behind them. She sent Noah back to the table and grabbed Terry’s hand before pulling him to the kitchen.

Terry had sent Blaire upstairs once they got home. It was the night before picture day and with it being the first day of school Noah had been anxious. So much that he had been telling Blaire he didn’t want to go. Knowing Blaire, she’d keep him home until he was ready, opting to homeschool instead of helping him to grow up. 

Helping Noah, Terry sits on the floor by his son's bed, mostly to get his backpack and clothes ready for the next day. He did his full nighttime routine while they waited for dinner to be delivered. Neither parent wanted to cook and with their talk looming over their heads, their minds were occupied. 

Giving Noah a snack he had him sit in the den. TV time was rare in the house, but Terry managed to get Blaire to compromise on a few shows on the weekends. Finding Blaire in the same place he did this morning, Terry closed the bedroom door behind him as he walked in. 

“Alright,’ he says, ‘let’s talk.” 

She sat up on the bed, tucking her legs under. 

“I miss you being in the house and the routine we had, just all of what we had.” 

“So why am I in an apartment?” He folded his arms across his chest. “If you want me here.” 

Her bottom lip started to poke out and her eyes welled up. Shit. Terry thought. He forgot she was a bit of a crybaby. 

“What did I do, Blaire?” 

Seven years of pent up frustration had finally blown over. The resentment she held onto had no base to hold onto once she spoke. 

“It felt like you put Summer before me and Noah.” 

Terry’s shoulders rolled back as her words blew him. “You weren’t answering your phone.” She went on, telling him the same story, this time he had perspective. Hers. “Brennan called, my mom called, my dad, your brother!” The tears poured down her face as she hissed the words at him, trying to keep her voice low. “You just barely made it to see him be born.” 

“I apologized for that, over and over, Blaire. I’ve begged you to forgive me for that.” 

“I have!” 

“Then..” 

“You shouldn’t have been late.” Blaire threw up her hands. “You should have dropped whatever you were doing and came to me. Your wife.” 

“She-’

"Oh fuck her!” She snaps. “Labor was hell for me. I had to lie there knowing where you were! And you to have the audacity to give me an ultimatum.” 

There was no arguing her on this. She was right. He cut it close to Noah’s birth and he knew she had been upset with him over it, but to cling to it for seven years? He understood the bitterness now. He never apologized for putting her second, because that's exactly what he had done. 

“You missed that. It wasn’t your hand I was holding. It wasn’t you telling me to push. You just barely made it! Then you came in smiling like you had been there! I wanted to sock that fucking grin off your face.” She punches her hand for emphasis and Terry looks down. 

“Now,’ she says, plopping down on the bed, ‘how can you fix that? How can you fix my trust in you?” 

Speechless, Terry rubbed a hand down the back of his head. 

“I’ve never felt so vulnerable,’ she explains, ‘and alone, my husband somewhere-’

Terry slipped into the bed with her, carefully reaching out to pull her into his arms. She fought him at first and he held his hands up. She didn’t get off the bed so he tried again and successfully pulled her into his chest. She looked up at him, eyes drenched in her tears. She couldn’t even keep up with wiping them away as they fell. 

He’d known Blaire all his life. Having grown up a few houses away from her she was one of the few neighborhood families that welcomed the Richmond family when they moved in. Blaire had always been a cryer. Her emotions so big she couldn’t help but cry. Instead, this time she was crying because of him. That he didn’t like. Holding her, he rubbed his hands up and down her back. He brought his hand around, using his thumb to wipe at the tears on her face. Blaire sucked in a deep breath, trying not to cry again. 

“Are you mad at me?” She asked. 

“What,’ he whispered, ‘no!” His head shook. “I just didn’t know how much I hurt you. Now I do.” 

She noticed he didn’t have on a shirt and she pushed at his chest. “Why don’t you ever have on a shirt?” 

“I’m hot natured, you know that.” Terry cupped her face, his fingers stroking the hair on the back of her neck. “Are you going to let me earn your trust back?” 

“Yeah I can t-’

"Don't try anything." His thumbs pressed to her lips. “Just be my wife again. Let me fix it.” 

The tv was on pause as Aaron kept her in a heated kiss. The two of them had returned home after a day with their family, Publix, and a quick run to Men’s Warehouse for Aaron. School started back tomorrow and it was picture day–he wanted to get a shirt that matched her outfit for their pictures. 

“We’re supposed to be watching the movie.” She reaches over him to sneak some popcorn and move her legs across his lap.

His arms come down from the back of the couch. His hands warm against her thigh while rubbing her smooth skin. After getting takeout, and coming home to finish unpacking, she found some of his old high-school shirts. Her name was etched into one of the sleeves in black sharpie and it became the shirt she decided she wanted to sleep in. His lips press against hers, using the hand on her thigh to pull her closer. She’s almost in his lap when she giggles.

“You’ve seen this one a thousand times.” He mumbles, rubbing his hand up to grab her ass, massaging the flesh between his fingers. 

“So, it’s my favorite movie.” she pushes him back to get up. She slides her feet into the stitch slippers he randomly got her.

Aaron’s face drops in a ‘where you going look', the dark lighting making his hazel-coloured eyes look sharper.  “I’m going to the bathroom.” She points to the tv. “Restart it.”

“We ain’t gon’ watch it.” He lets her go to grab the remote.

“You probably won’t but I am.”

Aaron shakes his head and restarts the movie but pauses it on the opening scene of SharkTale. Once he hears the bathroom door close, he rushes to a small room just off the den. 

Brennan took her time in the bathroom, relieving herself while reaching into the sink cabinet to pull out a small black gift bag. She set it on the sink vanity, finishing up to stand and wash her hands. Aaron was still sitting in his spot, arms resting in the back of the couch, phone tucked in his left hand to scroll through messages. Her eyes trail up his fingers–they look naked.

“You gon’ come sit down or keep starin'.” 

“I got something for you.” She moves around the couch, forgetting that she was staring. How could she not when he looked the way he does? He gives her his attention–phone dropping somewhere on the couch. 

“What is it.” 

Aaron sits up with a cheesy grin, eyes flickering from the small bag in her hands to her face. She sits next to him and puts the bag on the coffee table. “Gotta open it and see.”

“I got you somethin’ to.” He reaches on the side of the couch to pull out a small blue bag and place it in front of her. “Open yours first.”

Brennan grabs the blue gift bag–reaching inside she pulls out a small black velvet box. “Aaron.” She pulls her lip between her teeth to hide back a knowing smile. The material was soft beneath her fingers. The pads of them over the name ingrained in it. He reaches over to open it for her. The round cut diamond shines in her face that was accented with smaller ones. “This is beautiful.” 

Brennan had her eye on the woodland wedding set since the moment they decided to elope. Aaron had seen her looking at the rings on a jewelry website a few months ago. In the midst of them deciding to elope they hadn't thought about rings. She had been dropping hints the past few weeks, not realizing he already had the ring sized and delivered to his brother's apartment. 

She holds her left hand out palm down, making him chuckle at the excitement in her voice. “Put it on for me?”

He gently grabs the ring and silver band between his fingers. It slid on her fourth finger like butter. The silver-leafed band fitting snug below her left knuckle. Brennan would have to get used to the new weight on her finger, but her heart swelled knowing Aaron paid attention to details. 

Brennan almost forgets about her gift. “Open yours.” 

Aaron kind of had a clue on what it was when he pulled out the small wood grained box. The material smoothed against his fingers as he opened the box. “Damn.”

Brennan grins at the appreciative look on his face-eyes squinting as he pulls out the black and gold band. “Do you need your glasses?”

“Nah, baby. This.” He blows out with a small laugh and a smile that reaches his eyes. “It's perfect.”

Tungsten Carbide wasn’t a cheap material. The gold interior and then cut around it accented the black texture. She pulls it from his fingers and grabs his left hand. She had to sneak a couple of his other rings just to get it sized right. He watches her grin as it fits snugly around his ring finger.

“Now them bitches can know you're married.” 

@liquourlaughslove @heytaewrites @wrestlingprincess80 @simplyzeeka @prettyfilmz @venusesworld @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem @captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @mymindisneverhere

[poppy-in-the-woods]

Braids

(Ok, let's see if I remember how to do this fanfic thing.)

Plot: Inspired by this post and the comments. Noah and reader have a little tradition after sex. Nick and the others find out, but teasing Noah backfires on them.

Pairing: Noah x Reader

Word count: 1571

Tags: fluff, smut, oral (both female and male receiving), profanity, p in v.

It started almost as a joke. One day, after sex, Noah’s mane was so messy you asked if he wanted you to brush it. Surprisingly, he said yes, so you grabbed your paddle brush and untangled his dark locks. Next time, you bought a brush specifically for him and had it ready on your nightstand. He sat still and let you run the brush through his hair, occasionally letting out soft moans.

“This is so relaxing,” he said.

It was for you, too, so you did it every time after you had sex from then on. The first time you braided his hair, you were joking about giving him a gold star for every orgasm he had given you (and it had been a busy night). You didn’t have gold star stickers, but you wanted to give him a little extra something. While brushing his hair, your eyes wandered over your vanity, landing on the little plastic box of hair ties you had bought the day before. You sectioned the pertinent hair and braided four little braids on the side of his head.

“Now you got your medals,” you said, half joking.

But he didn’t take it as a joke, not at all. He demanded his recognition every time you had sex from then on (he also liked the feeling of your nimble fingers working his hair, but he wouldn’t tell you that).

Then he went on tour and you missed him. A lot. It was usually hard to sleep without him next to you on the bed, when he was on tour it was extra hard. Fortunately, you were going to be able to join them for the stop closest to your home. You talked on the phone the previous day, before the show, all excited to finally be able to sleep in the same bed again and smother each other in affection.

“I can't wait to be with you again, hug you and kiss you,” you said.

“Yeah, me too,” he responded. “I dreamed of you yesterday,” he told you.

“Yeah? Was it a nice dream?” you wanted to know.

“It was. We had sex all day, and you gave me a lot of braids,” he laughed.

“Well, maybe we can make it come true,” you replied, playfully.

“I can’t wait. See you tomorrow, babe.”

Little did you two know that Folio was listening (he didn’t mean to snoop, it just happened!), and he ran to the others.

“Guys, I have finally solved the mystery!” he announced.

“What mystery?” Jolly asked absentmindedly, focused on his guitar.

“Noah’s braids!”

“I thought they were just braids,” Nick chimed in. “You know, that he was experimenting with new hairstyles and such.”

“They’re not just braids!” Folio announced. “Y/N gives them to him after sex.”

“How does that make them ‘not just braids’?” Jolly asked.

“Knowing Noah, they’re fucking medals” Nick.

Jolly chuckled at the pun, but he agreed. The number of braids never followed a pattern, at least not one he could see. The braids being visual representations of how much he had been ‘loving’ his girlfriend were as good an explanation as any.

The boys got their confirmation the day after the concert. You had been to the show the night before, hanging out and partying with them after, so they all slept in; not you and Noah, though. He woke you up at eight with a bountiful breakfast and after a while of cuddling and relaxing together, watching TV, he began kissing your neck and slipping his hands in your underwear, and you felt him getting hard against your ass.

“Shall we go back to the bed?” you asked.

“Nah. Let me finger you first,” he said.

“But you’re so hard,” you protested while he ran his fingers through your wet folds.

“And you’re so wet, and I barely touched you,” he chuckled. “Let me please you in all the other ways I can before getting inside you,” he whispered into your ear.

You nodded as his fingers penetrated you, moving deliciously in and out, curling and massaging your G-spot, eliciting a moan from you.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear how much you like it,” he said, voice low with desire.

He finger-fucked you, rubbing your clit with his free hand, until you came undone. You were still recovering from that when he slipped out from behind you and knelt on the floor before you. Maintaining eye contact, he hooked his fingers on the elastic of your pajama shorts and yanked them along with your panties. You hissed as the cold air hit your core, still sensitive from his ministrations.

“Babe, are you sure you want to…?” you began, but before you could finish the question, he was already between your legs, lazily lapping at your arousal. “OhGodNoah!” you gasped.

He laughed but kept on eating you out, his licks soon getting very purposeful and not lazy at all. He was a man on a mission (making you come again), and he fully intended to accomplish it. You allowed yourself to be more vocal this time; not that you didn’t enjoy it when he finger-fucked you, but Noah was a pro with his lips and tongue, and he loved to make you come. Soon your second orgasm was going through you like a tidal wave, so intense that you saw white for a moment, toes curling, eyelids fluttering. You moaned his name, a hand gripping at his hair, the other digging into the couch. He smiled at you, still licking at your clit, riding you through your orgasm.

When he got up, the mere vision of him (the lower half of his face still glistening with your juices, his hard cock straining against his sweatpants, tattoos in full display) was enough to turn you into a feral creature. You lowered his sweatpants in a swift motion, freeing his erection. You curled your hand around his shaft, pumping him slowly. Maintaining eye contact, you licked a stripe over the sensitive head, tasting the pre-cum leaking. He moaned.

“Babe, as much as I love when you blow me, I need to be inside you,” he said, reluctantly pushing you away.

You guys went back to the bed. Noah grabbed a condom from the box on his nightstand, opening it up and rolling it over his length. He wasted no time, fucking you fast and hard against the mattress.

“Fuck! Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Did I hurt you?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“Did I tell you to stop while we were at it?” you asked.

“No”

“Then don’t be an idiot, I’m fine,” you assured him.

You cuddled. Then fucked again. Then cuddled some more. Then you rode him like a cowboy going into the sunset. Then you took a shower together and had lunch. By the time you joined the boys in the spa of the hotel, Noah had almost half of his hair in braids, and you were not walking straight. Folio elbowed Nick, attracting his attention over Noah and you, and Nick tapped Jolly’s shoulder. They looked at each other, knowingly, but said nothing.

“The poor thing must be so raw,” Jolly whispered to the other two, watching you two at the hot part of the pool. Folio and Nick stifled a laugh.

You were sad to part ways with Noah the next day but, to be honest, your vagina needed some days off after what you did.

“See you in a couple of weeks,” you said, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek and then his lips.

“I already miss you,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours.

You hugged him one last time before he got on the bus.

“I’mma put my coochie on ice as soon as I get home,” you jokingly texted him after you waved the bus goodbye.

“Should’ve eaten you out more,” he replied.

“Maybe. But I was there, and I enthusiastically participated. Don’t be sorry for what we both enjoyed.”

You saw him again for the second last show at the end of the tour, going straight to the hotel room after the concert. He made sweet love to you that night, very intimate and passionate. You loudly moaned his name as you came, back arching off the bed, inner muscles contracting around him, dragging him over the edge with you.

“I love you,” he said with a soft voice and hooded eyes.

“I love you too,” you replied, caressing his cheek.

He almost fell asleep while you were brushing and braiding his hair. He also let you be the big spoon, which didn’t happen often.

The next day, when he arrived at the sound check, the boys were surprised to see him with only one braid.

“Slow night yesterday?” asked Jolly.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Noah asked, confused.

“Looks like you were too tired after the concert for round two,” replied Jolly, pointing at his hair.

Noah blushed violently.

“You guys know about that?” he asked, mortified.

“You and Y/N are not very subtle, to be honest,” said Nick.

“It’s surprising, though, you always have at least two braids,” Jolly reflected.

“What can I say, that’s just how she likes it,” Noah said, shrugging while smiling, very full of himself.

“Dude, next time he meets Y/N to ‘hang out’ and he returns with braids, he won’t be able to fit his ego through the door,” Nick joked.

[artificialbreezy]

Hmmmm with noah or jolly

alright baby, you’re getting both (and i hope your day has gotten a lil better🫶🏻) and today we’re gonna talk about casual intimacy (and other stuff)

Noah who believes that even if he chooses to be private doesn’t mean he can’t show you off. if he’s not holding your hand in public or having you gripped onto his hoodie sleeve, he feels like he’s not doing a good job and keeping you safe. Noah makes sure that Bryan has photos of the two of you from tour, and ofc a photo gets posted once in a while. just as a reminder to the world you’re his. his love language is probably a mix of gift giving and words of affirmation right? he’s always giving you shit, even if it’s just a hoodie he just bought. he’s always telling you how good you did and how proud of you he is. he needs you to know he needs you just as much as he does. and i feel like a big big way he can show you he loves you and doing things for you. he’s not very big on showing emotions right? but ya know what he will do? write you a song. shower with you and wash your hair. paint your nails. brush your hair. help shave your legs (if you do). send you pictures of things he saw that made him think of you. bring you home your favorite snacks randomly. he’s a big softie, especially when it comes to his baby.

Jolly who isn’t afraid of standing in front of an arena sized room to scream he loves you. he’ll make posts on instagram for every anniversary, birthday, vacation, it doesn’t matter. anyway he can to show he is TAKEN. Jolly will share all his feelings, and he won’t hide them ever. he’s famous for just staring at you with those heart eyes bc he is just SO in love with you. when you’re not around? he’ll find a way to bring you up. he’ll show anyone around him his favorite picture of you. never ever uses your government name. only pet names, he straight up doesn’t care if he’s mad either. he never ever uses your name. buys you flowers weekly (has them delivered when he’s gone). weekly date nights (when he’s gone it’s dinner and facetime). he’ll stop whatever if you’re calling him, anything to hear your voice. he loves braiding your hair and when you braid his. he loves sneaking pictures of you sleeping bc you look so peaceful. in every thanks for rewards, albums whatever you’re the first one he thanks. you’re his emotional support human. if he cant take you, he has your perfume (and he totally buys your shampoo but doesn’t tell anyone), a shirt of yours and a lil stuffed animal so he can cuddle at night when he misses you extra. if he’s touring the states, he falls asleep on the phone with you every night. the guys definitely also text you when he’s being extra emo about missing you.

[total-drama-brainrot]

still stuck brainrotting over noah's wasted potential, ESPECIALLY his supposed spot in heather's alliance in island. just imagining a friendship between him, lindsay and beth where they take him in as their alliance buddy and honorary grumpy gbf where he eventually tries to convince the two to work against heather's iron grip on them, only to be outmanoeuvred by her an voted off for his "mutiny" (either before or after beth is disillusioned with heather, i haven't decided) likely in a vote that would have sent heather home had she not been blessed by plot armour (i'm thinking an early introduction of the immunity idol or something).

just. noah who at least tries to live up to his title as the schemer by playing along with heather's plans- since an early game alliance is pretty much a guarantee for safety until the teams merge- whilst secretly plotting against her.

also imagining a scene where noah is braiding lindsay's hair or painting beth's nails, not because he wants to, but as a means of fostering a better relationship with the two over heather of course. he absolutely doesn't miss his sisters and isn't staving off his home sickness with his 'alliance associates', not at all.

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | part three

"I loved him past the highest mountains and the sky, and I knew he felt the same as he poured himself to me, his warmth spreading through every inch of my skin."

Pairing: samurai!noah x fem. reader

Cross-posted on AO3.

Words: 3.081

Tags & warnings: forbidden love, sexual innuendos, swearing, angst and comfort.

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR

PART III

Days turned into nights, and nights into days; a relentless cycle of sunsets and sunrises that blurred into a monotonous existence.

I had been forbidden to leave the castle beyond its gardens, which meant I couldn’t stray far and couldn’t walk through the Samurais’ quarters or the rest of the castle grounds.

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks that I had been followed by two of my father’s soldiers. Their watchful eyes followed my every move wherever I went. Even within the solitude of my chamber, their imposing figures stationed outside the door and on the balcony made solitude itself a guarded luxury. They made sure that nobody came in, and above all, made sure that I didn’t go out.

The fifteenth night, the walls of my prison seemed to close in, suffocating me. I couldn’t take it any longer. My body missed him, and my heart ached for him. I very well knew why I had soldiers following me around, why my parents’ eyes scrutinized me in a different way every time I entered a room.   

When my mother found me in the castle’s corridors late at night, my hair still wet and my body covered in a dark cloak, things changed, and as per consequence, Noah’s and I’s relationship would change, too.

The night hung heavy over my father’s castle, and I moved with determination as I dressed myself, tied my boots’ laces, and put the cloak over my shoulders. I took one last look at my room. The neatly arranged space was a façade to the chaos unraveling within me. The truth was that his was a cage, and I couldn’t breathe in it any longer.

I walked to the balcony and opened the sliding doors, the two soldiers outside standing at attention, their loyalty to my father etched in every one of their features, in their posture, in the grip they had on their swords.

I walked towards the edge with quiet steps as I put the hood on, covering my hair gathered in a braid and darkening my features, and before the two soldiers were on me, I turned around, my hands already holding the two daggers I had kept tied at my waist, and I brought the sharpened blades to their necks.

“You will let me go,” I uttered, my voice a soft whisper carried away by the night’s breeze. “Or else, I will make sure you do not see the next sunrise.”

Their loyalty to the Shogun was momentarily clouded, my resolve overshadowing their allegiance. I sensed their insecurity, their fear, as the cold metal of the blades pressed against their exposed necks. They were dressed in their armor from head to toe, but I could see through, and I knew my power was above theirs. There was only one Samurai that could make me bend to his will. It was none of these.

“Three hours,” I continued, tinting my tone with danger; a threat. One of the men swallowed, and his Adam’s apple touched the blade that shone under the moonlight. “I must go, and I need your silence. Do not speak of this to my father or I will not hesitate to make your honor crumble.”

A tense moment passed, the soldiers exchanging uneasy glances. The weight of their duty pressed against the secret they harbored for their beloved princess. Yes, I was beloved, yet imprisoned. I would seek my freedom at the cost of their silence.

With a reluctant nod, they yielded, permitting me to slip away into the darkness, leaving behind the castle that had always been my home and then turned into my cage.

Far from the castle grounds, the city lay dormant, unaware of the risk I was taking into my own hands, the dip I was taking into hot waters and how they would boil if anyone spotted me moving towards the Samurai quarters.

My feet connected with the cool embrace of the stone-laid pathway underneath my chamber, and the opulence of my father’s estate unfurled before me like a labyrinth of shadows. Though my destination lay withing a stone’s throw, the perils of my decision also demanded urgency, speed, subtlety, and skill. No eye could spot me, for I would be damned if it were to happen. It was a good thing I was the princess, raised within these very grounds. I had to my advantage the knowledge of every hidden corner, every alley and passage that could take me to my destination unnoticed.

The path would be a treacherous dance, but I did it, nonetheless. I traversed hidden pathways and avoided moonlit open spaces, embracing the comfort of the darkness, my silhouette a fleeting wisp against the night.

In less than ten minutes, I stood in the bukeyashiki reserved for the elite samurai. Noah’s residence was near to the castle, a testament to his prowess, and it stood like a silent sentinel in the night. He had been moved into the house three years prior, a tangible mark of his ascent to the pinnacle of the Samurai hierarchy.  

Approaching his residence, I knew the front door was an impossibility. I had to find a way to make my way to him without alerting the world of our meeting. So, I circled the residence like a ghost, searching for an alternative entry. This was unfamiliar terrain for me, deliberately kept at arm’s length. This was the last place we should meet in. Me being there was a last resort.

A window, concealed behind a sprawling bush, beckoned as my entry point. The muted glow of hanging lights on the adjacent windows, flanking the sides of the residence, helped me remain enshrouded in the comforting blanket of darkness. With a practiced finesse, I breached the barrier, and I slipped inside of the household. The warmth of the room enveloped me, accompanied by the lingering scent of incense recently ignited. Moonlight filtered through the delicate shoji screens, casting ethereal patterns on the tatami floor. In the hushed ambiance, my heart echoed like a distant drum, quickening with the anticipation of finding Noah.

I took a moment to carefully unlace my boots and take them off, then, made my way out of the room, which appeared to be a space most likely devoted to intellectual pursuits, Noah’s sanctuary for honing the artistry of poetry and calligraphy, among other disciplines. There had been instances when I discovered secret letters beneath my pillows, each stroke of his handwriting a symphony that unfurled my heart with every unfolding of the paper.

The corridor was enfolded in darkness, the only beacon of light emanating from a room at its far end.

Noah's room?

I took one step forward, anticipation and trepidation brewing inside of me. My journey was abruptly halted by the icy touch of a katana pressed against my neck. I lifted my chin automatically, taking a sharp breath, my eyes opening wide.  

Turning slowly, I silently implored the Gods that the wielder of the katana wasn’t one of my father’s soldiers.

But it was.

It was his most skilled warrior, the one I was in love with.

Recognition flickered in Noah’s widened brown eyes as he discerned my face in the dim light. He lowered his katana as I pulled back my hood, revealing myself.

Noah’s wet hair cascaded around his face, he was shirtless and draped only in a towel. Droplets of water adorned his freckled shoulders, and he smelled of soap and home. Uttering my name in disbelief, he struggled to comprehend if I was real, if I was really standing there, in the middle of the corridor in his house.

“What are you doing here?” He queried, urgency lacing his words. “You can’t be here.” With a firm yet gentle grasp, he took my forearm, urging me toward the room at the end of the hallway. “You have to leave right now.”

“Noah, no,” I began, resisting his hold with a futile struggle.

“If someone sees you here, if someone has already seen you wandering outside…”

We entered the room, a tearoom adorned with a small square table at its center and four pillow seats in each corner. The table remained bare, and the sight of it prompted the image of a shared life with Noah, of what it could be if we escaped our responsibilities, if we ran away. I imagined afternoons spent around this very table, nestled between Noah’s legs, enveloped in his embrace as the aroma of the freshly brewed tea and the gentle afternoon breeze filled the room, accompanied by the distant melody of bird songs.

“No one has seen me,” I asserted, managing to halt his advance. Standing in the room’s center, I pleaded him to listen to me.

As he turned and I could see his face again, his eyes were full of worry and an undercurrent of fear. His wet hair framed his face in a way that made him look strikingly beautiful and vulnerable. A desire to reach out and tuck those strands behind his ear tugged at me, but I resisted.

“My mother knows.”

His grip on my arm slackened, the fear on his face transmuting into sheer horror.

"Don’t panic. She doesn’t know it’s you..." My words trailed off into a whisper. Noah's expression indicated a failure to comprehend, an inability to grasp how.

“Why do you think I haven’t been able to get in touch with you for two weeks? You didn’t stop to think that maybe something happened?”

“What does she know?” was all he could manage to utter. He released my arm. His other hand still clutched the katana, as if he could sense the danger around us.

“She knows I’m seeing someone, or at least she thinks that’s what I’ve been doing,” I took a deep breath, the tension in my nerves gradually easing now that I was with him. “I think she imagines that it’s someone I shouldn’t be seeing… I have two soldiers following me wherever I go, and four guarding my chamber.”

Noah took every word in. His shoulder slouched as his eyes descended. A second after, they darted behind me, across the corridor, and then behind him, towards the window.

“Are you absolutely sure no one saw you coming in here?”

“No,” I answered. “I threatened the soldiers guarding my balcony.”

My voice trembled and I hated myself for that. Noah must have sensed my distress, the fear I had endured crossing the perimeter until I reached his residence, because then he urged me to sit down.

“I’ll make you some tea and then we’ll talk, but as soon as we’re done, you have to go back to the castle.”

I nodded in compliance, waiting anxiously. When Noah returned, clad in black pants and a fitting black t-shirt that accentuated every muscle, his katana had been replaced by a wooden tray with a black iron kettle and two empty cups.

I could smell it before he poured it. Jasmine tea. My favorite.  

As he poured, my anticipation almost led to a smile, until he finished, leaving his cup untouched. Standing with arms folded, he loomed over me, his full height commanding attention.

“What does she know?” he repeated, the gravity of the situation etched across his features.

“I’m not entirely sure. She was standing in the hallway the night I came back from the forest, two weeks ago…” My eyes bore into his, aching for the recognition of the memory of our bodies fused in the water, his arms around me, my ragged breath on his ear as he rode him and myself into an orgasm. “She didn’t say anything. We never spoke after that, not once. But again, it wasn’t necessary. The look in her eyes that night told me she knew, and the next morning, two soldiers stationed themselves at my door and followed me everywhere. When I confronted my parents, they claimed it was for my safety and to ensure proper behavior.”

After a few seconds scrutinizing my face, a curse slipped from Noah’s lips, the veins on his neck pulsing with frustration. He lapsed into silence, pacing back and forth in long strides.

“Noah,” I murmured.

He ignored me.

“We have to stop seeing each other,” I declared.

Those words triggered his attention to snap back to me, his expression reflecting shocking surprise and a questioning scrutiny of my sanity. Had I lost my mind?  

“These past few days…” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “These constraints imposed by my parents… I can only wonder how far they could go and what consequences they might bring to you. I’m a princess. You’re a Samurai. If this comes to light, if they learned that I have lured you into my life… they wouldn’t care. They wouldn’t hesitate to lay blame on you for everything, and the code says…”

The fucking code. I could hear Noah’s words in my own mind, haunting me.

I closed my eyes, momentarily shutting out the weight of our forbidden love.

“I won’t let them do anything to you, so I’m putting an end to this.”

“You can’t.”

The resolution in his voice and his tone, harsh and determined, made me open my eyes again. He was looking at me with such an intensity that threatened to unbalance me, even in my seated position.

After a moment, I regained my composure, standing up and taking a step toward him, my cloak swirling around me.

“Noah, I should have—”

“No,” he cut me off. He extended his arm, and his hand found the spot behind my neck, pulling me closer. “You should now there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to trade this life for one with you.”

He was inching closer to understanding that the luxury of time had run out. A decision needed to be made, here and now, beneath the moon and in this very room.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice anything. I don’t want your life at risk. My love for you is bigger than putting your life in jeopardy,” I confessed.

I’d rather have you alive and away from me than not have you at all. 

“I’ll do what needs to be done in order to be with you,” he asserted, so much determination in his voice. Gods. “And nothing will stop me. Not even you.”

I frowned.

“That’s very selfish of you.”

“It’s not. You’re saying you rather give this up because you’re worried about me, about my life. You’re scared, and it’s that fear dictating your words. But deep down, I know you want to fight for us and take the risk just as much as I do. You can’t possibly believe that you can hide from me everything you’ve felt over these months, all these years. I know you. I know you better than anyone.”

Unable to resist the intensity of his words, the pain and honesty embedded in them, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him with fervor, hard.

He was right. No one knew me like he did. No one held my secrets like he did. No one had ever cared for me, loved me, the way he did.

I wanted him, in every possible way, and I was ready to set the world on fire for it. I would have to sacrifice my status in society to be with Noah. But so would he. He would become a Ronin, and I would become the shame of the Shogun.

His other arm circled my waist, and his fingers dig into the skin near my hip. His mouth molded into mine with the hunger of a lion that hasn’t eaten in days, and his tongue made his way into my mouth, eager to taste me, devour me. My arms slid up to his neck, and I pressed him harder to me, pulling at his brown silky locks. I wanted to melt into him, merge the beating of my heart with his. I wanted to live in this moment if it could assure me that nothing would happen, that we would get a happy ending like those in the stories I used to read as a kid. I wanted Noah more than I wanted anything else, and as he kissed me with the scent of jasmine tea around us, cooling down, I heated up, resolute that I didn’t regret a single decision I had made in the past and that had involved Noah.

I loved him past the highest mountains and the sky, and I knew he felt the same as he poured himself to me, his warmth spreading through every inch of my skin.

His teeth grazed my lip, gently biting down on my lower one. As he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine, I yielded to the sensation, softening in his embrace. Any mark on my lip and the prospect of soreness in my lips the next day were inconsequential in the wake of our shared intensity. We were made for this.

“As much as I want to do this…” He looked down and I followed his eyes to the growing erection in his pants, “to feel you wrapped around me, you have to leave now.”

When his eyes met mine again, his resolve was unmistakable—no hesitation, no wavering for a Samurai.

“I’ll meet you tomorrow at midnight at the forest entry. Pack your stuff and be ready.”

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

“Noah…”

“Are you with me?” He asked.

I brushed his hair away from his face. His dark, astonishing eyes locked with mine.

“Until the end of the world.”

He bent down again, a little smile tugging at his lips as they lightly brushed against mine.  

“Good girl,” he whispered very softly, sending shivers down my spine.

Taking my hood in his hands, he covered my head with it, making sure I would go unnoticed on my journey back to the castle.  He brought my boots back from the other room and helped me tie them up.

We shared one last look, one shared promise.

I would do anything for you. 

Slipping out into the night, I dared to steal one last glance back. Noah, now a fading shadow within the dimly lit house, stood beside the untouched tea.

[darksigns-exe]

Headcanon that Noah sometimes misses getting his long hair brushed and played with.

I bet he does :( misses the little rituals that came with it. The little things like helping each other catch all of the suds, misses waking up with the scent of your shampoo all around him (because let’s be real he’ll steal yours whenever he can and probably still does), misses you combing your fingers through it 🥺

But when you do it now you’ll always graze your fingers along his scalp and that’s just as lovely. Does miss sitting between your thighs so you can braid his hair a lot though!

[thefallennightmare]

Matty brain rot has been real so please enjoy this little smutty blurb.

Best Friend!Matt x Reader

NSFW BELOW THE CUT. 18+

The pounding nosies of the drums brought a sense of calm throughout you as you internally danced to the song Matt had been playing. While Kooter had already finished setting up Folio’s drums, Matt wanted to run through a song just to make sure it sounded fine.

Everyone knew it was mostly because Matt secretly missed drumming.

Adjusting the strap of the camera on your shoulder, you smoothed out your sundress as you let the hot Arizona heat blast against your bare shoulders and watched your best friend slam the sticks against the drums.

Wonder what that would feel like.

Shaking those thoughts about your best friend out of your head, knowing he didn’t feel the same, you watched with a smile on your face as you picked up on the familiar beats of your favorite Bloodline song.

Same Stories.

But what really made you break out in a smile is when you saw Matt trying so hard to keep his long locks of hair out of his face, ultimately falling. Since your camera bag was on the stage next to you, you rummaged through it to pull out a hair brush and a hair tie.

You were always prepared.

Your shoes smacked against the stage as you walked up the mini stage towards the drums where Matt let out a frustrated groan, dropping the sticks so he could run a ran through his hair yet again.

“I can’t believe I forgot my hat,” he muttered.

“You could just cut your hair,” you teasingly shrugged which earned you an ice cold flare from him.

You held up both hands, still holding the hair tie and brush. “It was a joke, Matthew. No need to go feral on me.”

Please do.

His eyes softened as they grazed over every inch of my body and suddenly I wasn’t warm from the sun any longer.

“What’s that?” He pointed a drum stick towards my hands.

“Don’t mind me, I’m going to fix your hair for you. It’s way to hot to leave it down, even with a hat,” you replied while maneuvering yourself behind him.

Matt had been wearing a cut off shirt, his muscles glistening with sweat and you bit your lip at the sight of him. You’d had feelings for him for a long as you could remember but always kept it to yourself after over hearing a conversation of him and Noah where Matt admitted six words that made your heart sink.

“I don’t do relationships. Never will.”

And it was true. You’d been around Matt and the Bad Omens crew for the last two years and never seen Matt in one single relationship. Not even a fling.

But the two of you were incredibly close, the best of friends and he proved it more than once he cared and loved you. Just not in that way. So you swallowed the way you felt in order to keep your best friend.

“You don’t have to always take care of me, you know?” Matt’s question pulled you out of your thoughts and you merely hummed, running the brush through his long golden locks.

“If I don’t then who will?” You retorted back with a wink as you peered your head around to face him.

His dark eyes traced your tongue as it darted out to wet your lips. Then followed a single bead of sweat as it trailed down between the valley of your breasts that were peaking out over the top of your dress.

Behind him once again, you finished brushing his hair and let the comb fall to the floor as you gathered all of it in a low bun.

“Please don’t braid it,” he pleaded while kicking his feet slowly on the pedals of the drums.

You snorted after finishing tying all of his hair out of his face and walked to the side of him. “I think you would look really cute in braids, Matthew.”

Something flashed in his eyes as his hands shot out to grab your hips, pulling you into his lap as he still sat on the stool. Your giggles echoed into the blue sky as his fingers gently tickled your sides.

“You think so huh, baby? I’d look cute?” He teased with a low voice.

You sucked in a breath at not only hearing his pet name for you but also what you felt brush against your semi wet core.

Matt’s cock was hard underneath his sweat shorts making you bit your lip as he raised his hips up against you when he noticed how much it turned you on.

“Oh, what this? Did you forget how to speak?” Matt grazed his lips gently over your collar bone.

This wasn’t anything new, you two teasing each other like this. But what was new was how hard you felt his cock pushing against your pussy. The thin material of your panties doing nothing to stop you from staining his grey shorts with your arousal.

“I-I,” you panted, him practically forcing you to jump him while on the drum set.

“You’re so cock drunk and I haven’t even slipped it inside of you, baby girl.” Matt bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out.

Thankfully everyone was in the back hang out area of the outdoor venue and couldn’t see you nearly falling apart.

His fingers lifted up the end of your dress so your ass was exposed to the sun, him kneeding the sensitive flesh.

“I’ve been dreaming of fucking you against a drum set,” Matt admitted while leaving a deep red mark against your neck.

Your pussy was on fire now so close to falling over that edge of bliss and you dug your nails into the exposed flesh of his arms, Matt still forcing your hips back and forth against him.

“What-what happened to you not doing relationships?” You breathed your question, so close to your release.

He wrapped your pony tail around his hand to yank your head back, exposing more of your neck to him.

“That’s for everyone else. For you, baby. I’m all yours.”

Your heart leaped into your throat at his admission and you let out a silent scream of agreement as your body exploded with pure euphoria.

[imthepunchlord]

Random Story Setting Idea (you don't have to do anything with this if you don't want to, I just want to see writers' thoughts when they hear these prompts):

A dark and foreboding Palais Garnier opera house engaged a naval war in a world where people live in a giant city floating in the sky.

A few times in life, Bea always heard that the people of the High Sea lived with their heads in the clouds, blind to the world below. All they would do was stare up at the near stars, glide over and shape clouds, and race the wild winds. Never to turn their gales down.

And now through the clouds, the Empire's ships broke through, trailing thick black smoke behind them, the molded metal faces of sea dragons, sharks, seals snarling outward, as if ready to come alive and bite at the floating islands of the High Sea.

And as of now, they were hunting Harmony Hall, the last standing major island of the High Sea, where the High King hid himself away, no doubt working with Holly to try and keep the illusion up, to hide them from the hunters that fly below, prowling the open air.

From Bea's understanding, it was putting off the inevitable. She doesn't know much about witches, but surely they couldn't keep an illusion this big going for long--

"Are you nervous, Miss Beatrice?"

Bea had a start, looking up to see Lady Mary Annette drawing near, glassy eyes staring outward, blind to all that was before her, yet she moved with grace and certainty, as if the world was clear to her. Her yellow dress flowed around her frame as the wind tugged at it, even pulling a few pale strands free of the refined braid her hair had been weaved to. Lady Mary gaze vacantly outward, staring at the stalking ships with odd tranquility.

Bea gestured to the ships, stressing out, "A little."

Lady Mary gave a soft hum.

"Are you terrified?" Bea asked. She had heard from her brother, Warren, that the High Sea rarely ever saw any war or knew how bad it would be with the Empire.

"I don't have much to fear," Lady Mary said simply. Her head turned towards Bea stiffly, glassy blue eyes staring down at her. "You don't have much to fear either."

"I don't?" Bea asked, with a near laugh. That was far from the truth. Of what they found, of what the Empire desired.

Lady Mary wouldn't know just how much danger she and Warren would be in once the illusion fell.

Cold fingers came to grasp Bea's shoulder, and she looked back into those glassy eyes. Without even a smile, Lady Mary told her in a coy tone, "Did you know that Harmony Hall bore a different name, eons ago?"

"...No."

There was a twitch of the lady's eye, her coy tone growing. "It was once known as the Cradle Chamber, where a terrifying monster was put to rest. Legends says that when the music stops, it'll awaken." Shining eyes turned towards the ships, a giddiness in her tone as she said, "And thanks to them, the music has long stopped. It won't be long now."

"Wha-- wait," Bea babbled, "should, should we be afraid?"

Lady Mary answered with a melodious hum.

"What sleeps here?" Bea asked, scrambling to her feet, facing the dolled up noblewoman. "What is here?"

If there was a sea monster here, that could devastating for everyone.

"Bea!"

She jumped, turning to see Warren and Noah hurrying towards her, carrying rope and hooks. Warren was quick to scold, "What are you doing out here?! You're supposed to help us get ready--"

"There's a sea monster here," Bea cut in quickly.

"What," Noah gasped, almost dropping the rope and hooks. "What kind? Does it have a name?"

"I don't know, Lady Mary was about to," Bea started to say, turning back to the aristocrat. Only Lady Mary was gone. All that was beside Bea was the cool, open air.

"Lady Mary's asleep in the foyer," Warren told her, giving her a raised brow.

"But, but she was..." She was here, wasn't she?

"Maybe the altitude's getting to you," Noah teased, though he couldn't hide his nervousness.

Warren pushed the rope and hooks into Bea's arms, pulling out a blueprint and opening it to glare at it. "I need you to help Noah set the traps, I'm going to double check and make sure all the escape routes will work. In case Harmony Hall does fall, there are supposedly underground tunnels that lead to a hidden entrance. Maybe I can ease Marshell in there..."

Warren didn't wait for either to reply as he hurried away, frantic from the near imperial fleet.

"Do you think there's really a sea monster here?" Noah asked.

"I don't know," Bea stressed with a groan. "Come on, let's just get ready in case the illusion falls." Well, when it falls. Holly Graham took a lot of pride in her work as a magician, and the High King was famous with his magic, but they were only human. They couldn't keep it up forever. Warren had the right idea, all they could do was prepare.

She and Noah ran into Harmony Hall's foyer, and there she Lady Mary, seated with a slight slouch. She was so unnervingly still, she looked like a doll that had been put away, it's time to be played with over.

Bea pushed the odd thoughts back, now following Noah's direction as he shared with her the ideas Warren had to prepare them.

[lavampira]

7, 15 and 17 for the wol questions 💗

pre-dawntrail wol questions

ty kels!! 💚

7. how does your wol feel about their hair? is it important to them? just kind of in the way? who cuts it? do they take good care of it or are they not particularly fussed about it?

her hair isn’t necessarily important in a sense of fussing over it, but it is very meaningful, like, she’d hacked it off for some semblance of control over herself and situation after the banquet (while making the excuse that it altered her identity being on the run from eorzea), and then grew it long and returned to care of it as she found stability again. d’liveq, her parent, used to trim her hair and taught her how to braid/bun it as well, and aside from the previously mentioned drastic haircut, she’ll visit a professional now.

15. what would your wol be if they weren't the wol? what would they do as a job or career? would they be happier?

she’d still be an arcanist taught by herself and members of her tribe, though unlikely a summoner, and even as a regular adventurer, she probably would still end up connected to saint coinach and the NOAH expedition because of her ties to mor dhona and insatiable curiosity around the arcanum. I think she’d be happy, but missing all the growth that shapes her from the responsibilities and hardships she endures as the WoL, and wouldn’t have met many of the people who bring more fulfillment to her life either.

17. answered here <3

[constellama]

Noah is dead, clearly nothing can get worse than this (final raven boys live-blog post :D)

Llama reads TRC: Chapters 31-48 of The Raven Boys

Chapter 31

Ronan is grieving for Noah :(

DECLAN?

Ronan bestie please don’t be drinking all alone in your room <3

He’s getting kicked out D:

“Then you’ve killed him” ok ik Ronan’s home life is kinda awful but why is everyone so sure he’s gonna die? I feel like I’m missing something here

Gansey !!

Why do they have so many cars what

Gansey using his rich people superpowers to keep Ronan in school

OHHH SLEEPWALKING.

Ok either it was MENTIONED before that Ronan sleepwalks and I completely missed it or I’m just dumb

Is that why they keep thinking he’s gonna die

Gansey shoving his credit cards everywhere is so real though

Gansey stop taking so much responsibility for your friends challenge !! Impossible apparently!! This boy is so sad pls Gansey not everything is up to you stop carrying the weight of the world you’re literally a teenager

Chapter 32

“And Noah’s dead. But Parrish is here.” Waiting for the day that they eventually get used to Noah being dead and start joking about it

Every time Adam mentions his home life I want to grab him and run very very far away

Uh oh

Don’t kiss pls that would not end well I think

“She felt like she’d done so much work to appear as eccentric as possible and still, when it came down to it, she was sensible.” I’m not good at words but this sentence. Oh this sentence. It makes me sad in a way I can’t describe.

CHAINSAW!!

Ronan and Chainsaw are the best duo actually

Ronan looks so happy when holding Chainsaw :(

Wait, ok. I’ve heard about Ronan being able to dream things into existence (it’s one of the things I got spoiled on) so I’m wondering, did he get Chainsaw from his dreams?

NOAH

NOAH MY BOY

“I was…more…when I was alive.” WHAT IF I CRIED

“You’re enough now. I missed you.” THEYRE BEST FRIENDS ACTUALLY IDC IDC

Whatever you do don’t imagine Noah braiding Blue’s hair <- sobbing

“And he’s about to be a were, too” DAMN??

“Noah, please don’t die for real” ouch ok I’m completely normal about this actually mhm

I WAS RIGHT!! HES CONNECTED TO GANSEY’S INCIDENT WITH HORNETS

THE DUDE WHO SACRIFICED HIM WAS WHELK WASNT IT

Noah is so sad I’m gonna cry

“But you already know.” OH???

Chapter 33 (TW: Gun)

Gansey bestie pls don’t crash your car

Aaaand the Camaro’s stopped

This is like the worst possible timing

WHELK??

NO NONOO

RUN GANSEY

I’m cryign imagine your car breaking down in the middle nowhere and suddenly your teacher appears and mugs you

THE JOURNAL

Gansey pls you have a gun to your head

YEAHHH PUNCH HIM

Whelk just. Just left? Bro just tried to mug a student 😭??

GO HOME GANSEY PLS BE SAFE

Chapter 34

Omg time to go through Neeve’s things

I love Persephone she’s just an anomaly

Butternut?? 😨

Someone called Neeve to find the ley line,,,it was Whelk wasn’t it,,,

UH OH THEYRE BACK

Chapter 35

Adam making tea :D

Ok so now everything’s in order, things are starting to come together. This can only end in two ways

Oh? The ley line will be woken up soon

DO NOT CALL THE POLICE

Big things are happening and I am NOT scared (lie)

Chapter 36 (TW: Abuse for this chapter, stay safe)

Adam not wanting to leave the car :( Don’t go in Adam just leave pls

“Loser” You’re so right, Ronan

Oh God Adam’s dad is awful

NOO ADAM

ADAM??

RONAN

GET HIM RONAN

What did he do to his ear oh my god

Adam pls

“Can I…can I press charges?” YESSS ADAM MY BOY

Chapter 37

Ew whelk chapter

Ok either Neeve is actually gonna help him or she’s planning to trick him

I’m hoping on the latter

Chapter 38

Adam’s ok :D

His ear is screwed up though :(

“You win,” Adam pls it’s not like that :(

These boys are so sad

I get why Adam wants to do something on his own terms but he also doesn’t have to endure all this abuse because of it :(((

WHAT THE HELL GANSEY

BRO???

GANSEY

Gansey you could have said *literally* anything else

Adam :((((

Screw Adam’s mother too she sucks !!!

Chapter 39

NOAHHH

Adam didn’t want Blue to know about his family life I FEEL ILL

Call from Malory!

“Jane” PFFFFT

I’m sorry what

HIS SKIN FELL OFF? What in the magnus archives—

“My words are unerring tools of destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.” 😭??

“What a fine contribution to the world I am.” Gansey :(

Yes Blue you should spit in Gansey’s eye, it would be funny

Adam pls you could get hurt

Guys pls

Chapter 40

Ok yeah Neeve was definitely lying

Oh. She kidnapped him. Kinda slay of her tbh

“Also, Neeve hadn’t tied tightly enough.” Uh oh 😀

Chapter 41 (TW: Gun)

“Your hair is the color of dirt,” “It knows where it came from” IM SHAKING YOU ADAM !!! STOP HATING YOURSELF !!!

Do NOT kiss PLEASE

“Keep being brave.” they are so special

“There was blood everywhere” haha what.

Oh my god his dad had a GUN??

Thinking about Adam makes me sad

He needs a hug

Adam.

ADAM NO

Oh my god Adam what are you about to do

Chapter 42

GANSEY WAKE UP

HES GONNA WAKE UP THE LEY LINE ALL BY HIMSELF??

Chapter 43

“Are you sleeping?” “Yes,” just like me fr

Santa Claus metaphor,,, I love these two they’re the best mother daughter duo

His name was Artemus?? Kinda sounds like Artemis,,,

“Drugs might be better” lmao

The Raven boys are here!! Go save Adam!!

And get Neeve too, from whatever she’s off doing

Chapter 44

Adam !!!

All the descriptions of Cabeswater are so pretty ough

UH

ADAM NO

YEAHHH NEEVE KILL HIM!! KILL WHELK !!

Oop, back to Blue’s pov

“MURDERED” Noah :(

“REMEMBERED” WHAT IF I SOBBED !! WHAT IF I BROKE DOWN AND CRIED !!

Chapter 45

Whelk is so annoying I need him gone

Oh my god

The ritual doesn’t work if it’s just murder??? So it just wouldn’t work at all if Whelk did it :0

What’s up with Neeve’s eyes bro

WHAT

WHERE’D NEEVE GO

UH OH

ADAM GET OUT OF THE PENTAGRAM

“I sacrifice myself.” ADAM NO

HEY??? WHAT

Chapter 46

“Was I so awful?” NOO GANSEY IT WASNT YOUR FAULT :(

White horned beasts 😭?? Literally what is happening

Are they unicorns though this is important 👀

Oop they’re in the vision tree

WHAT

Chapter 47

Gansey actually saw the same vision this time omg

Personally I think that it’s a good thing that Whelk is dead. That’s just me though personally I think it’s incredibly beneficial actually

THE TREES

GLENDOWER??

Chapter 48

Is this an epilogue??

It seems like it

Ok so Neeve just straight up despawned bc of the mirrors

Noah :( he probably misses his family so badly :(((

“He’s sorry for drinking your birthday schnapps” what if I cried

OH THEY DUG HIM UP

NOAHHH MY BOY HES BACK

Ronan?

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you, I took Chainsaw out of my dreams.” I WAS RIGHT!!!

BUT WHY ARE YOU ONLY MENTIONING THIS NOW

Good God. I have so many thoughts. This book was so fun to read I can’t wait for the next ones :D !! I’m gonna take a bit of a break before I read the next one though. Just a heads up, I probably won’t live-blog the next books like I did with this one, but I will post my thoughts occasionally (just not as much). Anyways, Live Laugh Love Noah Czerny🙏

[vxnillite]

Khro'a birthday drabble!!!

THIS IS FOR @99-kroi !!! The man who sent me down this path of insanity, and I will be eternally grateful for that.

HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY DUDE!!! Just want to say that you're an amazing person, a fantastic artist, and a really fun person to talk to! Really, really glad to have met you and to be able to share all this fun sh*t with you! (I'm a writer, why is my vocab so limited)

Also this is not a ship fic, 100% platonic bc Noah and Khro'a are besties 4 life <33 yippee hAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN KROIIIII

(if there are typos, i'll get back to it. i haven't [edit: HELP ME WHY DID THE REST OF THE SENTENCE DELETE ITSELF I MEANT TO SAY I HAVEN'T PROOFREAD THIS LKSDJFKLSJF])

Sunlight filtered through the wooden planks of the treehouse, shining tiny spotlights on an unusually empty bed.

The owner was in the middle of the room, crouched on the floor. Khro'a whistled as he fixed his travel packs. Today was going to be uneventful, but he'd decided to go flying—didn't know where to, exactly. Khro'a would decide on the way.

He'd just tied up the last pack when he heard an ikran cry. Weird—that wasn't his, though. It cried again, sounding much closer to the treehouse this time. Khro'a had a second to recognize that particular call when—

"INCOMING!!"

Something crashed straight into Khro'a. It knocked out almost all the air inside of him, and, had he not been bigger than the intruder, they would've crushed him.

"Ay, puta—you were fucking right under it! Sorry!"

Khro'a felt himself get yanked up onto his feet, then into a tight embrace. From over the person's head, he processed first the rapidly swishing tail, then the triple braids—one black, two an unnatural purple.

Noah was jumping on their toes as they exclaimed, "Happy birthday, Khro'a!!"

Excitement rose like magma in his chest at the realization. Khro'a grinned and hugged them back. "Noah! I thought you wouldn't be back until a few more weeks?"

Noah pulled away to look up at Khro'a, and their arms went from his waist to his hands. "And fucking miss your birthday," they scoffed playfully, "You think I'm gonna be stupid like that? Of course, I was gonna come home early!"

Finally, confusion arose as well, and Khro'a asked, "How is it my birthday—wait, how are you keeping track of this?"

Fangs bared, Noah giggled through their teeth. "Well, it's been exactly one Pandoran year since you got transferred to your Avatar by Eywa. I did the math some time ago, and turns out your terran birthday happens to fall on the same day this year," they explained, "So, technically, two birthdays!"

It took a few seconds for Khro'a to process, and he chuckled as he did. 

Noah cocked their head to the side. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just," he stifled a laugh, "You really counted all that?"

"What, like it's supposed to be hard?"

Khro'a couldn't hold it in anymore, the affectionate laugh he was caging in his chest. "Spoken like a true nerd."

Noah slapped him on the chest. Their lips scrunched into a pout. "Gago, it's simple fucking math!" Then, infected by Khro'a, they started laughing, too. "Of course, I've been counting. It's your birthday, after all. I keep track of everyone else's, too."

Khro'a let his laughter dwindle down first. "So, it's been a year, huh," he mused. Then, he looked back down at Noah. Their bright eyes looked up at him curiously, waiting on his words. He sighed contentedly, "Thank you, Noah."

Noah's lips curled into a softer, still toothy smile. A little chuckle wisped through them as they pulled Khro'a in for another hug. It said everything that couldn't be put into words.

The moment passed in comfortable silence until Noah spoke up. "Oh, also, I stopped by the village, and I told the entire village and the other RDA people. They're all waiting for you at High Camp."

Khro'a sighed, placing a hand on their head. "Of course you did."

"But you seem to have plans." Noah peeked behind him from under his arm. "Going somewhere?"

"Meh, I wasn't really planning on it," Khro'a shrugged, "I was just bored, so it's a 'wherever the wind takes me' kind of plan."

The reaction to that was somewhat violent, as Noah pulled away only to grip Khro'a's arms, eyes glinting with excitement. Their tail was whipping like a tornado behind them. Teeth that bit down on their lower lip caged their words flimsily. Khro'a had a feeling he knew what those were.

"Go on. What is it?"

"Can I come with you," Noah asked giddily, like a child, "It's been months since we went somewhere together!"

"I don't know~ Didn't you say there are people waiting at High Camp?"

"Yes, and we can go after that! C'mon, don't fuck with me, Khro'a."

Some things just never change, he thought. Then, Khro'a smiled. "Alright, but I really had no plans of where to go. Do you?"

"'Wherever the wind takes us' sounds like a good plan. Now, come on! I'll help you with your things."

Khro'a perked up as if a switch had been flipped in his head. "Wait, Noah, you've been travelling all night—have you had any sleep?"

"Shhh! That's not your problem to deal with, okay?"

"That's not my po—Noah!!"

Too late. They grabbed two of the biggest bags in their hand, jumped up onto a large branch—an exposed structural beam of sorts for the treehouse—then flung themselves through the roof chute. They looked down at Khro'a, jerking their head as if to hurry him up. Fortunately, he'd already followed suit.

Khro'a emerged through the chute mere seconds after Noah did, throwing the other two bags onto the roof as he pushed himself up. With his tail, he flipped the chute door shut. Khro'a put his arm out just in time as he saw a familiar stingbat coming to land on him.

"Hey, Kev!" Khro'a chuckled as the stingbat pecked him affectionately. It shrieked as he scritched its neck. He dug a fruit from one of his bags and gave it to Kev. It cawed gratefully as it flew back to hover over its owner.

Then, the two avatars mounted their ikrans, but before they took off—

"Oh, and Khro'a?"

He turned to them innocently. What he saw was a figure cast in the morning light and a delicate smile. Noah's gaze softened as their eyes met.

"Happy birthday ulit." Their eyes smiled, too, pushing a few tears through the corners. "Thanks for everything. I'll never forget any of it."

[rennivere]

0.2 Unlikely Reunion

"Greetings, adventurer! Did I not say we would meet again?"

Yue thought she had recognized the voice - smooth, a bit deep, familiar - that coaxed her along in her little quest for aethersand, but never would she have guessed that it would actually be G'raha Tia.

And yet, there he stood: Pale ruby hair pulled partially back into a thin braid, ensuring that she could see the Archon mark on his throat. His mismatched eyes peered at her with the mischievous glee of a man who felt as though he'd just pulled off the greatest prank - and perhaps, in a way, he had. He watched the Au Ra for her reaction, and surely wasn't disappointed.

"G'raha!" She exclaimed, reminding herself of their company as she fought the urge to rush to the familiar face.

"I wasn't aware you two were already acquainted," Rammbroes hummed, a thick hand lifting to massage through the white peaks of his beard in consideration as he peered between the pair. "G'raha Tia has been assigned to the project as an observer. I worried you might not welcome him as one of our own... but perhaps those worries were unfounded."

Yue was dumbfounded with glee, pressing her lips together as she tried not to smile too bright, though the twinkle in her eyes surely gave away her delight. The Miqo'te across from her seemed to similarly fight against a smile, though he let his slip as he nodded towards the Roegadyn.

"Yue and I hail both from Sharlayan. We shared classes and interests, as well as a complete inability to stay in one place long enough to make any sort of plans to meet," he said with a rather cheeky grin that had Yue giggling, her head ducking sheepishly as if it were something to be ashamed of.

Rammbroes seemed unimpressed, but Yue thought she heard Cid chuckle beside her, the man giving a little hum of amusement as he glanced back and forth between the childhood would-be-friends.

"Right then!" G'raha chimed before the moment drew on too long, "I believe we all stand ready to step into the unknown! Three cheers for NOAH!"

Nominated Observers of Artifacts Historical. Yue would have accepted the acronym at face-value, but the Miqo'te's further explanation on the name drawing from that of a vaunted Allagan archmagus had Yue grinning, stifling another soft giggle as her and G'raha shared a brief, knowing glance.

Given the Miqo'te's passion for the subject in his youth, perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised to encounter him here, of all places. Frankly, it made perfect sense.

Had Rammbroes not been quite so keen on coaxing them along in their investigation, Yue might have lingered longer to catch up with the Miqo'te, but she was granted only enough time to fall into step beside him as they strode towards camp, her hands clasped behind her, tail swinging side-to-side as she peeked slightly up at the boy-turned-man.

"It's good to see you again, G'raha," she said warmly, the Miqo'te's smile enough to bring a slight pink tinge to her pale cheeks.

"And you, Yue. I have to admit, this was the last place I expected to run into you... though, given your recent endeavors, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that you'd be involved in the investigation somehow. You've made quite a name for yourself recently. A Scion of the Seventh Dawn, and feller of Primals and all other sorts of foul creatures to boot," the Miqo'te hummed, ears giving a curious flick in her direction as the girl sighed in response.

"You make it sound so... spectacular," she said timidly, fingers wringing together behind her back, her gaze turning forward as they neared the central campsite.

She missed the way the Miqo'te stared at her in interest bordering on awe.

"Given the tales I've heard, I'd say you've become more than just spectacular... but I'd love to hear the stories from your own lips, if you'd indulge me. Perhaps tonight, before bed? Given our track record, I say we make use of how our current quests have aligned and make up for lost time, if you will."

Yue didn't catch the hopefulness in his eyes, still far too bashful to look his way as he spoke, only turning towards the Miqo'te as they stopped in camp, her body turning towards his as she gave a timid nod.

"Only if you promise to tell me what you've been up to as well, Archon"

The man gave her a grin, his tail flicking happily behind him as he nodded.

"Gladly. It seems like we both have our own stories to tell. I'll look forward to hearing yours."