#I was thinking about this while still picking at chapter 27 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

barzzal · 10 months ago

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call me crosby → interlude p.2

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, language, swearing, mentions of blood genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 9.3k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: the interlude is a two-part chapter dedicated for what happened between sidney and reader in the past and why everything had to happen ;) pls pls tread lightly as these chapters contain sensitive themes. you may stop reading at any time should it make you feel uncomfortable. this is just a reminder that you are still responsible for what you consume. all that aside, happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Your mind wanders to the not so distant past while you do your night time routine. You blankly stare at yourself absent-mindedly as you lather lotion on your hands and arms.

It’s crazy how madly and deeply in love you and Sidney were a week ago.

You can’t help but reminisce about the reckless night you and Sidney shared. The very night that you think might have led to such a life-altering event.

“Babe?” you hear Sidney call for you from the bathroom.

You have just gotten home from an annual fundraising ball that the Pittsburgh Penguins hold to support the foundations it is in partnership with. As the captain, and arguably the face of the franchise, Sidney’s hectic night also meant having to always stand wearing your impractical heels and a smile that has to be genuine enough– but not so much as to come off pretentious and inauthentic.

While all of the actions you’ve shown were true, it was evident that the pressure to remain perfect was taxing. To say that you were tired would even be an understatement.

You feel a hint of hunger but even that won’t stand against your need for a good night’s sleep.

As you lazily take off your earrings from one ear to another, you hum as a cue for Sidney to let you know whatever it was that’s going on in his mind.

“How does this thing work exactly?”

Baffled about the query, you lay your jewelry pieces flat onto the tray, and aim for the bathroom. You were still wearing the dress that elegantly clothed you for the entire night. It was a dress that Sidney had picked out himself. A dress that he knew would compliment and suit his girl just right.

The sliding doors of the bathroom were already half-open thereby causing you to see Sidney’s reflection in the mirror; his brows furrowed in total and utter bewilderment.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror once he hears your voice.

He turns to face your way and in his hand rests what seemed like a tiny, but regular, container of skin moisturizer you have been meaning for him to try.

“You watch me get ready for bed for years now, honey.” you idly tell him.

Sidney recognizes the exhaustion in your words, enjoying how your lazy voice register in his ears. He smiles.

“I don’t want to risk doing it wrong,” he explains. “I looked up this brand on the internet and I must say, it costs a lot for such a tiny bottle.”

You roll your eyes as you take the product from him. “It costs a lot because it also takes a lot to rescue,” you pause for effect as you playfully point at him, “that face.”

The two of you chuckle softly. Bare feet and about to get unready.

“Have you washed your face?” you ask him. Sidney nods.

“Alright. What else have you done?”

He shrugs, glancing over to his side of the sink. You’ve laid out a few products for him. Some of them he’d already gotten used to and some that he’s still figuring out. Sidney tells you about the few products he has initially applied.

“Could you please help me?” he asks in that voice he only uses with no one else but you.

You sigh dreadfully, eyes already closed with how tired you were. You lean your head on his shoulder, mumbling your words.

“But I’m so sleepy.” you let him know. After having a few seconds of rest, you add, “I haven’t even gotten my makeup off yet.”

Sidney knows you were beat. Even if he doesn’t tell you, he truly appreciates the great lengths you go for him. You don’t have to do it, but you did it all just the same for as long as it involved Sidney.

“I’ll take it off,” he volunteers.

“Pfft.” you snicker a foolish laugh. “I bet I can get a goal past you faster than you can learn how to take my makeup off. Properly.”

“Come on,” he says, putting his hands on your waist, giving it a good squeeze. “You got to at least let me try. I know you’re tired.”

You give him a smile but reply in a commanding tone, “Promise you’ll do it like I do?”

Sidney nods, ready to do after your bidding. “Religiously.”

Once you agree, you let him gently lift you up the counter next to the sink so as to let you be in a comfortable position. By the looks of it, the odds of you falling asleep were high and Sidney just couldn’t bear letting you stand on your feet after you’ve murdered them with those ridiculously high heels.

“Nooo,” Sidney coos. “Don’t fall asleep.”

With closed eyes, you softly chuckle. “Mkay.”

He glances over to the rack where you keep your nighttime essentials and asks, “What do I do first?”

Sidney willfully follows every instruction you give him as you patiently guide him throughout the process. His endless musings, in the hopes of keeping you awake, have evidently worked despite your exhausted state.

You didn’t want to drift off anyway. You were in total bliss feeling his touch; soft with care – delicate. Sidney’s fingers graze onto your skin ever so lightly as he applied every product. He did what he had promised you. He did your nighttime routine religiously.

His movements were put to a stop. You hear a soft clink of the product onto the tray; a sign that he was through.

Before you get to open your eyes, Sidney leans towards you. He then lightly pressed his lips against yours so as to give you a peck.

He plants a couple more before he eventually breaks away.

“Done.” He says enthusiastically, seeing you with a wide smile on your face.

“Yeah?” you briefly open your eyes, Sidney coming into full view. You see him half-naked with only his pajama bottoms on. His chest was rose-colored; perfectly in contrast with the shade of his stubble.

You take a quick glance at yourself in the mirror so you could get a peak of what he’s done. Huh. Pretty good.

You turn your head back and face him wearing a tight-lipped smile.

“Like it?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“You did fine.” you kid.

Sidney pretends to be appalled. “Fine? Just fine?”

“Uh-huh.” you tease. “Not bad for a first timer.”

“A’right.” he says with a smirk. “I know I could’ve done a lot worse than a ‘not bad’ so I’ll take it.”

“I’m just playing with you.” you tell him. “You did a good job.”

You open your arms, asking for a hug. Obligingly, he leans in and lets you wrap your arms around his nape. Your hands then found their way onto his face. Your fingers graze over rough stubble just as your eyes meet Sidney’s.

With your thumb landing on his lips, you gently pull Sidney’s face closer so you could lock him in a kiss. Gentle and sweet. Passionate despite being done swiftly. You feel each other’s warmth– with your mouth and your bodies pressed so close together.

Once the two of you break away, you say, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

His left hand removes some errant strands that lazily fashioned the side of your face. The other makes its way on the small of your back, pulling you even closer.

Before the two of you dive into another kiss, Sidney says, “Thank you for letting me.”

𖥸

When Sidney asked you to move in with him, the first thing he did was to start a major renovation of his home. You were not a fan of it because of the obvious reason; it was unnecessary. But alas, Sidney had his ways. He told you it was not just his home anymore. It was yours. “Ours.” was what he said.

It didn’t matter where the two of you were. Sidney had countless away games and series, and you had your fair share of business meetings on your end. But no matter where the two of you were, regardless of being away, your togetherness was kept by the home you have built with him. After all, Sidney’s home was just a massive block of building situated on acres and acres of land, standing still and lonely.

Then came you.

He stripped his home clean when you moved in. Little by little, you were able to incorporate yourself into his home. You had a say in every change; what has to go and what can stay. What paint colors to use and what kind of furniture he should get. Sidney did nothing but say "yes" the entire time. He wanted you to feel at home as much as he did. Neither the place nor the big still and lonely building did matter because he had you. For Sidney, you were home.

From the gorgeous outdoor landscape, classic hardwood floors, to high and white ceilings, Sidney wanted every corner of his home – inside and out, to have a touch of you. Only you.

It was his futile attempt at a romantic gesture. He wanted to be reminded of you each time he was in it. Because just like what he said, no matter what happens, wherever he may be, you were the person he knew he’s always going to come home to.

Looking back, it hasn’t occurred to you just how high and white the ceilings were. How distant everything seemed. Without Sidney, all of it seemed dull and ordinary. You just did not realize it until you spent the last several hours staring at that boring ceiling, lying in an all too cold bed that has seen the best and the worst of you and Sidney.

In spite of your still heavy and tired eyes due to all the crying, you find yourself reaching for your phone yet again. Maybe this time you’d get an answer.

“Please pick up.” you utter as you try to numb yourself with the endless ringing of the line. It was getting really late. Even with what happened earlier, you still wanted to hear his voice. That way you’d know he was okay. That way you’d know he was coming home.

With time feeling like eternity, you managed to give it some thought. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe he was right. You did attack him; one way or another. You could have told him some other time when it felt right or when neither of you were tired. Maybe that way, he could have reacted differently.

The weight you feel in your chest must have been incomparable to how he felt. It came to him unsuspectedly. The least you could have done was lay it all down easy. But no, you chose to put him in a difficult position where he has to choose between his present and the future. An ambush that was undeniably uncalled for.

Maybe, at some point, you forgot Sidney had a life where you didn’t belong. Maybe that was where you went wrong. Sidney had a life. You made him yours.

Your hand travels down to your stomach so as to remind you of what life already is – what life will be. Sidney knew you were carrying his child and the first thing he did was leave. For somebody else, it would have been their cue to go. But here you were, instead of feeling all the right things you should be feeling, still waiting for him.

If your calculations were right, it was another hour before Sidney finally came home. You turned away from the bedroom door and pretended to be asleep. He was quiet but his presence said otherwise. There wasn’t much movement being that Sidney was stoned at the door looking across the room. Looking at you.

Out of all the years that the two of you have spent together, this was the first time he actually did not feel like coming home.

Instead of the comfort he’s always felt each time he opened the door to your shared bedroom, Sidney felt unsure. It was as if he almost did not want to come home at all. Because you, who once brought him peace, was the very person who handed onto him a havoc served on a silver plate.

Sidney no longer minded the fact that he knew you waited for him. He knew you were still awake yet the first thing he chose to do was head towards the bathroom. The clear cut sound of the door coming to a close sends shivers down your spine. You try blinking it away, but the tears just start coming.

When the bathroom door opens, you squeeze your eyes shut knowing what’s to come next. It was a while before Sidney decided to come to bed. You feel it shift with the weight of having Sidney in it.

Normally, his arms would magically snake its way to your body and lock you in an embrace. That was the only way for Sidney to get a comfortable sleep. Now, he stares at the ceiling for a good minute or so before he shifts and looks at the back of your head.

He did not want to say a thing though he felt like he needed to.

It was wrong for him to feel this way. He knew that. But now that he’s conflicted, Sidney knows he’s going to have to give himself some time. Perhaps, even some time away. From this house. From you.

He takes a deep breath; long but subtle. The one you make when you’re trying to calm yourself before diving off a cliff. Sidney wishes he could come out of his. To be able to swim back to his surface. Because as hard as it was to admit, you were drowning him.

“Will you ever change your mind?” he breaks the ice and asks.

Despite being nervous to what his answer might be, you return the question.

“Will you change yours?”

He doesn’t say a word. And with that, you knew Sidney’s silence was his answer.

You do the same.

Though there was something he did want to let you know.

I don’t want to have to lose you.

But instead, he says, “I don’t want to lose you.”

You stifle a sob as a tear meets your pillow.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer not because you didn’t want to. You didn’t answer because you were afraid that you couldn’t think of any.

You hate to think you’d have to lose one another over the very thing that was supposed to make the two of you whole. The truth is, you were scared about so many things. You just didn’t know you’d have to be scared about losing Sidney.

𖥸

A few days have passed since you and Sidney got to talking. It was barely one being that all you’ve done was fight. It was already more than just an argument and time has been nothing but cruel in letting you know that the sudden change you see in him now is his way of telling you that the both of you are not and will never be on the same page.

Sidney chose to drown himself more in his Summer commitments. The last thing you heard he was off signing brand deals and staying a lot longer at the club. Now, while he’s busy playing in between putts and pucks, you’ve gone to another appointment and have been taking good care of yourself and your baby to the best of your abilities.

You were at the task of putting away the lillies you have bought on your way home when you hear Sidney’s car enter the driveway. It would not be long before he opens the door. You have not really thought of what to say to him. As much as you try to understand where he’s coming from, you badly hope he does the same thing to you and simply honor what’s already on the table.

The sound of keys being tossed onto the bowl rings throughout the hallway; commencing Sidney’s arrival. You see him enter the room in his usual golfing attire, lugging his equipment behind him.

You have not felt the thick air of uncertainty for a while and you realize it was because he was not around. You offer him a tight-lipped smile once you meet his eyes.

“Hey, you.” you call for him in a tone that lets him know you were open to talk should he want to discuss things with you.

Sidney declines your invitation through his own, “Hi.”

You feel a pang in your chest so you try and make up for it by putting the rest of the mess sitting on the island away. Sidney, on the other hand, sees what you’re trying to do. Nevertheless, he ignores it. Instead, he makes his way around you, heading towards the fridge to get a drink.

You give up.

“Is this really how you want things to be when you come home?” you ask.

Sidney sighs, letting your words sit in the air. He lets the sound of the water hitting the glass mock you as an answer. You watch him drink its entirety with a stern face, unbothered to even look you in the eye.

A month ago you can’t even picture him behaving like this. Time is fickle, so they say. But it is just as unpredictable and brutal.

“Sid,” you call, failing to mask the sound of your voice nearly breaking. Of course, you were desperate to have a decent conversation with him. You miss him. And even though you know you would not change your mind anymore, the best thing you can do is to at least have the chance to change his.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” you reach for his hand to hold it.

For a moment, you see his eyes soften. He looks down on your hands. You were scared that he was going to dismiss you but much to your relief, Sidney held your hand instead. He tenderly rubbed the back of your hand whilst he tried to find the words to utter.

This was one of the things you miss. Sidney’s touch. He’s always had a way with it. Nothing really mattered for as long as Sidney held you. You felt so secure – safe from anything that may come your way. For as long as you were with Sidney, you needn’t have to feel scared.

Just when you feel a sliver of hope, you see a somber expression in his face the moment you look back at him.

“I don’t have anything new to say.” he nearly apologizes.

Disappointment now printed all over yours, you choose to let him know of what kept you busy.

“I went to Claire and got a sonogram.” you tell him, forcing out a smile.

You opted not to get one the first time despite Claire’s advice. You wanted to have Sidney with you in that room. But now, it was painfully clear that it might never happen. Not to mention the fact that his child is continuing to grow regardless of what he had to say about it.

Sidney gladly lets your hand go so as to caress his nape. When he falls silent, you continue nonetheless.

“The baby is healthy.” you add.

Shrugging the latter off, he asks, “What about you?”

He still cared about you. At least that was there.

Is it really too much to wish he’d feel the same way for his child?

“I’m fine.” you answer, uninterested with your own well-being.

Sidney says nothing else but nods, dismissing whatever you still have to say concerning his unborn child.

“Won’t you at least see it?” you try for yet another time.

Sidney’s jaw clenches but he chooses to let it go. He didn’t come home to fight.

He pays you a meaningful look, devoid of the fact that the said sonogram was already pinned on the fridge along with a few old polaroids that the two of you intentionally kept for each other’s sake.

“I told you, I don’t have anything new to say.” he repeats himself. “And I still won’t even if I see it.”

It was clear that the two of you were trying to make ends meet. But Sidney was not trying hard enough.

“Then what are we doing here?”

You were offended, of course. You were utterly hurt by his appalling insensitiveness. Sidney did not give even an inch of care but that shouldn’t justify acting too much of an ass about it.

“Am I supposed to wait for you to change your mind before I continue carrying your child?” you continue, “I’m pretty sure pregnancy doesn’t work that way, Sid.”

Do you take him for a fool? He thinks.

You touched a nerve, causing Sidney to lose himself again.

“Who even told you I wanted one?” he retorted.

What does he think would happen after sex? A gala? A dinner party?

You need not stress on the obvious. Besides, doing so would just take you miles down the surface you’ve barely even scratched. Dealing with a closed-minded Sidney and piling on his share of negativity would just be counterproductive.

“I’m not changing my mind, Sidney.” you firmly state.

The time Sidney was gone did not make you want the things he wanted. It just made you certain – so sure, that you want nothing else but this baby. And you know there was no other way out.

“Are you with me on this or not?”

He scoffs at the thought of you making him choose.

“You’d really go that far, wouldn’t you?”

“That far?” you scorn.

“Sidney, that ‘far’ we happened to be discussing right now, is a life together!” you stress, pointing a finger at his chest. “So, yes. I am willing to go that far.”

Sidney could not find the words to save his own cause. But regardless of the problem he still hopes you can set aside, he knows that you will eventually come to your senses and choose the life that you were already living with him.

However, the wounds were barely even healed and here you were, deciding to pick at it again.

“I told you to come back only when you’re ready to be an adult about this and face it with me.” you order. “I don’t need you starting a fight because you know I will never change my mind.”

“Well, you know what? Neither will I.” Sidney shakes his head, adamant to bow down in favor of your will.

“There. I said it.” he adds, thinking of the night you told him about your pregnancy.

He sees your eyes watering and he knew it would be enough for you to pull him back in. But this wasn’t like the other times. You wanted different things and he did too. Maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe it isn’t worth prolonging what has clearly ended.

“You’re right.” he says, “I shouldn’t have come home in the first place.”

Suffice it to say that he did not deserve to feel half of what you have been feeling, you hold him back once he starts retreating.

“W-Where are you going?”

“Geno’s.” He shortly answers. “I cannot be on board with something you chose to decide all on your own.”

You fall silent as it was not the response you were expecting, especially not from Sidney. So instead of speaking for you and his unborn child, you watch him leave once again.

𖥸

Sidney made sure he was kept preoccupied for a reason. It was evident that you were making him choose. And despite him denying, he is certain that regardless of the path he’d be taking, you’ll choose to have the baby and leave the life you have already built with him.

He hated the possibility that you might leave him for something that was unplanned. Something that could have been prevented by a birth control shot. But no, it didn’t. It frustrates him that you won’t take the only ‘out’ he’s got to offer. It frustrates him even more to know that regardless of your choice, he just could not see himself being tied up to a commitment he knows he will never want.

Yes, he may have wanted and hoped for a life with you but that was it. Only you. He did not need anything more. On top of it all, he’s scared. He’s scared because he knows that he almost hated you for it.

You have reached an impasse and you and Sidney both know it. It was just a matter of who’s going to be the one to break it to the other. He doesn’t want to be the one to do so, hence why he chose to leave.

Sidney was a man that loved calculation. Everything had to be precise. Otherwise meant having to give a shot at failure. That was how he felt for the majority of his career. He did excel at school but it did not challenge him. It took less energy and made him less driven. He wanted to acquire so much and be so much more within so little time. Wishful thinking and ambitions aside, he made everything he wanted happen.

He just wishes he could figure this one out before it’s too late.

Geno had his feet up on the couch, hands were glued on the game controller, yelling at the TV. It was another game that he had one of Anna’s nephews teach him. He had nothing to do for the entire day and he was a firm believer that wasting time was not really wasted – only if you make it count.

The count, if you dare ask, was a 2-4 game versus some kid on the internet. N8Dawg29.

Geno’s shouting at the TV was put to a stop when the doorbell rang.

“Lucky bastard.” he says, throwing the controller elsewhere.

Given the moment’s notice, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He had no idea who it was at the other side of the door. By the time he opens it, Sidney’s face comes into view.

“Sid!” he says his name with a giant smile on his face. The very same smile that was washed away by the look Sidney had on his. Lost.

What brings you here? was what he wanted to ask. But given the way his friend looked, it was apparent that something big was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?”

Concern traveled to Geno’s eyes when Sidney spoke of your name as an answer.

“Is she alright?” he asks him, opening the doors of his home wide for Sidney.

Sidney looks him in the eye and says, “She’s pregnant.”

As the brand new information hit him, Geno begins to realize that such news might not have been well-received by Sidney.

Uncomfortable and panicking as to how he’d make light of the situation, Geno asks, “Who’s the father?”

𖥸

Geno knew he needed reinforcement. N8Dawg29 would have to wait.

No, it wasn’t because Geno was losing. It was because he had more important things to tend to. Let him leave it at that.

Two crystal clear snifter glasses were pinched in between his fingers whilst his other hand held a bottle of premium scotch. He takes long strides across the room, making his way towards the lesser halves of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ three-headed monster.

The Captain had just broken the news to Kris, but unlike Geno, the defenseman took his time before sharing his two cents. Sidney spared no detail as to what happened. The truth that he didn’t want a baby, and the ugly truth that you did.

Just like how he looked in front of Geno, the expression on Sidney’s face was more than enough for Kris to deduce that congratulations weren’t in order. Despite him being happy to learn about your pregnancy, Kris just couldn’t let Sidney feel as though his feelings were invalid.

Quietly, whilst the biggest names of the team sat together, the weight of the elephant in the room was still borne solely by the team’s captain. Once each of them was able to take a sip from their respective glasses, it was Kris’ turn to ask a question.

“Does she really intend to keep the baby?”

Sidney nods as the alcohol runs down his throat.

“Actually, she made me choose,” he says. “–said she’d do it with or without me.”

“Are you going to let her?”

Sid meets Kris’ eyes, “What would you have me do?”

Kris takes a deep breath, conflicted as to whether he was in the position to say what’s in his mind. “You know it really doesn’t matter what I think. It is still your decision.”

“Of course, it matters.” Sidney counters. You’re a father. He wanted to add.

“What is it that you want to hear from me?”

“Just hit me. Tell me how you feel. I can handle it.”

“All right,” Kris puts down his glass thereafter clasping his hands. “Are you a hundred percent sure that you don’t want to be a Dad?”

Sidney finds it hard to answer. But he knows it wasn’t because there may be a slight chance that he would eventually want to be one. It was mainly because he knew saying it out loud would paint him in a bad light. He can’t afford to look selfish in front of his friends.

Kris questions, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t pictured yourself with a child? Ever?”

“Of course, I have. It’s just– I don’t want to have one now.” Sidney feels like a fool for saying it out loud. “You know I love kids. I have always been great with them. You know how I am with Alex, right?”

Sidney looks at Geno once he speaks but all Geno did was avoid his gaze. Even he didn’t favor how Sidney had to bring up his godson as an example.

Instead, Geno asks, “Then what is the problem?”

“I don’t think I can be a good father. I’m afraid I’d screw it up.” Sidney fiddles with his fingers.

“How can you be so sure you won’t be a good father?”

Sidney sighs, “How did you know?”

“No one knows they’re going to be a kick-ass Dad until they become one.” Kris says. “I couldn’t even figure out how diapers work the first time I had to do it, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be a good Dad.”

Sidney runs a hand through his naked hair. “Maybe that’s it.”

Kris’ eyebrows furrow, waiting for Sidney to continue.

“How can I be good at something I don’t even want to become?” He looks at both of his greatest friends.

He continues. “It’s different with you and Catherine, Kris. You both wanted Alex. You both wanted kids. I’m not quite sure I can even begin to like the idea of having my own and yet, here it is – already tearing me and Y/N apart.”

Kris takes a deep breath.

With his words subtly laced with judgment, he says, “There is only one thing you can do.”

“What?” Sidney raises a brow.

“You have to let her go.” Kris continued. “Even if it means she’d have to do it alone.”

Kris respects Sidney for not wanting to have a child. He knows he’d have to understand where Sidney’s at in life. If he says he’s not ready to father a child, then so be it. But that does not give him a pass on being a selfish prick who he’d still have to understand in exchange for you and your unborn child’s sake. You were as important as Sidney is to Kris. He wouldn’t simply allow Sidney to take everything he could while you empty yourself for him.

Sidney asks yet another appalling query.

“Do you really think she’d choose it over me?”

Kris answers with a knowing look on his face, “Any responsible adult would choose a baby over you, Sidney.”

“Kris,” Geno puts his glass down, interfering.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Sidney takes offense.

“What did you expect me to say, anyway? Did you come here expecting I will coddle you? That Geno and I will help you be this irresponsible?” Kris tells him off, switching glances between the two of them.

Geno calls him in a definitive tone. “Tanger, stop.”

“No,” he stressed. “The two of you came to my house asking for my help. Here it is. I am a father. It’s one thing to feel unready for such an immense responsibility. I get that. But, it seems to me that you’re seeing this predicament as a game you just have to win no matter what. That kid isn’t even born yet and here you are, antagonizing him for breaking your relationship. That is your child, Sidney. Your child with the woman you claim to love. Even if you don’t want it, the least you could do is acknowledge that it’s here. It’s not just a thing you have to tolerate.”

Sidney and Geno fall silent.

Kris gathers himself and stands, aiming to leave the room.

“Let her go, Sidney.” he recapitulates. “You know you’re not the person she needs right now.”

𖥸

Three days have gone since Sidney left home. You haven’t gotten enough sleep since then. You’ve tried busying yourself tending to some house chores but none of it sufficed. Tiring yourself did not help in your pursuit to keep your mind from thinking of him.

As much as you wanted to, regardless of your doctor’s orders, you just can’t function bearing a magnitude as heavy as the one you’re facing with Sidney, hanging over your head. Here you are, barely functioning through a day, how could you possibly picture a life without him in it? It seems as though the past is now a blur. But then again, so is your future.

“Hey,” Cath’s voice soothes you from the other end of the line. “How are you?”

You almost forgot that you were on a call with Catherine.

Dissociated, you answer, “I’m… I’m doing okay.”

“Are you sure?” she asks for the hundredth time.

For the past three days, you’ve always answered that you were. Perhaps, it was for you to save face in the hopes of seeing Sidney again.

“No.” you finally admit despite Catherine already knowing, “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” she says.

It seems as though she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. Sidney, apart from staying with the Malkin’s has gotten the liking of dropping by her house to see her husband. It had been a day since the first time they had talked about you. Catherine knew little of it but she knew Kris didn’t exactly agree with whatever Sidney had told him.

Finally, she lets out a sigh, “Listen, Sidney’s here.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name. With a glint of hope in your voice, you ask to confirm. “He is? How is he?”

“Well, to be honest, not good.”

You find comfort at the thought. You might still have a relationship worth saving.

“Do you want to speak with him? I can–” Catherine offers but you’re quick to decline. Maybe some time to himself will do you both good.

“No don’t, Cath. Really, it’s fine.” you say with a sad smile. “Knowing that he’s there is enough.”

Silence sits on the line for a moment. You have always waited for Sidney to come home for the majority of your entire relationship. It didn’t matter if he was gone for days or even more than a week; he came home every time. That thought alone made the wait bearable. Now, the uncertainty of it all just makes the wait longer because unlike before, you’re no longer sure he’ll be coming home.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Cath pulls you back from your thoughts. The truth is, you haven’t.

“Have you been eating? What about your medications? Are you taking them?”

“Well, yeah. I am. I am taking them.” Sometimes on an empty stomach. Sometimes you miss it by an hour or two.

“Have you slept at all today?”

“I… Not really. I haven’t been sleeping well. There’s a lot going on in my mind.” you say as your eyes flicker to your surroundings. You then realize that the chaos in your mind has begun to translate into your home. Your sight eventually falls onto the load of dishes you’ve yet to tend to and others already cleaned waiting to be put away.

“I know. But you need to take it easy.” she reminds you. Catherine has a point.

“Please take care of yourself, Y/N.” you hear her sigh. “Your baby needs you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” you earnestly tell her, adding that Claire’s stopping by in an hour or two. “A friend is coming over to keep me company tonight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

However, just as you stand whilst talking, you feel a sudden surge of sharp pain in your abdomen.

You find yourself holding your lower stomach, unsure if it was something to be concerned about. Claire has informed you about the minor discomforts you were inevitably going to feel as your body adjusts to being pregnant, but was it supposed to hurt this much?

Catherine calls your name when you failed to answer.

“Yeah?”

You start to walk, aiming towards the kitchen. Your palm rests on your abdomen in an attempt to relieve yourself of the pain you were still feeling.

You hold the phone with a bit more pressure, you hear Cath ask, “How are you really? You know you can tell me stuff. I know it must have been tough having to deal with Sid.”

You sigh in an effort to alleviate the pain. Your eyes begin to water by the mention of his name. It has been tough for you. If Cath could see it, how come Sidney couldn’t?

“I miss him, Catherine.”

“I know you do.” she replies sympathetically. “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know.” you reply as your breath becomes labored. “Just– , please tell him to come home.”

You shut your eyes, pressing on your stomach once you reached the counter.

“We need him.”

𖥸

Was Kris right? Sidney was deep in thought as the paddle hit the ball from one end of the table to another. Geno hits it right back. Sidney does the same. They go on and on uttering no words but mere sighs and labored breathing as they play the game of table tennis.

Even if Kris was right, he knew it was still going to be Sidney’s decision. If you yourself could not convince him of the life he so clearly does not want, what makes Kris think he can do otherwise?

Despite the heated conversation, Sidney was still thankful Kris had a gym in his basement. He needed to clear his mind; something Geno understood. Sidney rarely gets upset, but most of the times he did, it was for the right reasons. Now, however, Geno wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking, Sid?” Geno asks as he recovers after missing the ball.

Through his still labored breathing, Sidney puts the paddle down and briefly looks at him. He shakes his head, not devoid of a single thought - but overwhelmed by millions of it concerning: you.

When he doesn’t hear a word from Sidney, he finally asks, “It’s been three days. Don’t you want to come home?”

Sid plays it off with a grin, “Why? You’re getting sick of me?”

Geno rolls his eyes, “Yes, what are you gonna do about it?”

The two of them share a brief laugh, trying to lighten the weight bore by the topic of you.

“I don’t know, man.” This time, Sidney tells him the truth. He does not know. He had hoped to know by being away from you. But if asked the same question of whether he wants the life that you do, he still has the same answer.

Before he can say another word, Geno speaks as if he read Sidney’s mind.

“If it’s not entirely a yes, it’s a no, Sid.” he tells him. “You’ve got only two ways out of this. To stay or to leave.”

Sidney’s taken aback.

To stay would mean to live a life off his books; blind and unplanned. He’d be traversing an environment completely foreign and unknown. To have a child of his own. To have a family. Forever.

And on the other, to leave would mean to accept the gut-wrenching picture of a life without you; to embrace it through and through. And maybe hope that someday, it will eventually get easier.

Before Sidney could even answer, the Letangs came rushing into the room.

“We gotta go,” Kris announces with urgency, the key to his car already in his hand.

Sidney’s eyes fall onto a frantic Catherine who was clutching onto her phone - voice trembling as she says, “It’s Y/N.”

𖥸

Sidney has never feared anything in his life. Between having to leave home at such a young age and thereafter fighting the horrible concussions that cost him almost fifty games off of his career, he has never felt as frightened as he did when it was you who was already on the line. He admits that he was not in the right mind to deal with what you have told him, but the fear of losing you was so insurmountable that it made being a father seem less terrifying than he could have possibly imagined.

“Where is she?”

“Is she okay?”

“Have you seen Claire?”

Wanting to breathe became obsolete once Sidney chose to speak all aforementioned. He held Cath’s shoulder, almost shaking her, in an attempt to get an answer.

“Claire took care of everything. She’s fine.” she says, relaying what Claire had told her.

He lets go a sigh of relief. He runs his fingers through his evidently unkempt hair – and asks, “What about the baby?”

If the record was right, it was the first time he’s ever asked about your baby.

Despite how Cath felt about Sidney, she did not simply have the answer.

Worriedly, he walks past her and looks through the small window of the lounge door. He sees a handful of people, mostly visitors. Sure – there were doctors going from one side of the room to the other wearing their coats and clipboards in hand, talking. Always talking. Giving out information, whether well-received or heart piercing. It was a whole ‘nother job that seemed so ordinary. A whole lot more than what is perceived.

Sidney wanted to go to you. He wanted to find you. But how can he do that if doing so would mean causing more risks than he’s already had? Because even if it was the least of his worries, Sidney could not possibly handle more attention from the crowd.

It was exactly the ugliness you had to bear being with Sidney. Being with him meant having to consider who he was inside and outside of the rink; that your personal life is inevitably tangled with the one he had with his skates on. There was no double life with Sidney. He has successfully integrated the two so he gets to live both. As for you, you were the tide that went along with it — the tide that kept his boat afloat.

𖥸

Claire hoped she wouldn’t be spending the night in the hospital. But then came you.

She was glad she still had the spare key you’ve given her to your home. Between scrambling to find it amidst her million other keys and finding you sitting on the cold floor of the kitchen, holding your stomach, with blood apparent in your clothing, Claire was just glad that she got to you the soonest you needed her to.

“My baby–” was the first thing you told her as you tried speaking in between sobs.

You looked at her, tears running down your cheeks, once she had approached you.

“It’s alright. I got you. I got you.” she repeatedly told you.

Her eyes fell onto where your hand was. Truth be told, she has never been this scared in her life. It was crazy how she simultaneously knew and didn’t know what to do. It was you. Your safety and the life of the child you’ve yet to birth, placed unexpectedly in her hands. Despite all that, she was certain that she’s not about to lose anyone. Neither you nor your baby.

“Please don’t pass out.” she murmured more to herself as she held your face. “Stay with me, alright? You guys are gonna be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Claire stayed true to her word and took care of you. You were settled in a private room, resting. It was evident that all the emotional and physical turmoil you’ve been trying to suppress has finally caught on and got the better hold of you. Scarily so, despite the night’s ordeal, you were now safe. You and the baby.

You were asleep when Claire left you in your hospital room. She still has a few of your documents that needed sorting out. Well, that and having to deal with the man – with both of his hands placed on his waist, pacing – waiting for her at the end of the lobby.

“How is she?” Sidney asks Claire the moment he was within hearing distance.

She ignores him. Instead, she goes inside the waiting room and acknowledges the presence of Catherine alongside Kris and Evgeni.

“How is she?” Catherine shoots the same question.

Claire initially answers with a nod then proceeds, “She’s going to be fine. We just need to let her get some rest.”

Cath nods as well as the others.

“And the baby?”

Claire doesn’t give a definite answer.

“We’re still waiting for several results.”

“W-Why?” Sidney jumps in the conversation. “Did something happen to the baby?”

Unfortunately, as much as Claire wanted to hit Sidney’s face, she couldn’t. She wasn’t in the hospital just because she’s your friend. Simply put, duty calls. And right now, Sidney demands her of it.

“I am not at liberty to disclose anything at the moment, but I assure you, we are doing the best we can.” she tells Sidney despite not meeting his eyes.

“Will you at least let me see her?” He pleads.

“I don’t think so.” she states firmly.

“What– Why?” Sidney asks quite defensively. “I am her emergency contact person!”

“No, you are not.” she informs him. “You cannot see her files because you are no longer her emergency contact person. I am now. You are neither her next of kin nor are you married. And if you are present as any partner should have, you would know.”

Sidney scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

“You are not my patient, Sid. I am in no way responsible for disclosing information Y/N clearly doesn’t want to share with you.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Sidney complains.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Claire tells him.

“I can’t believe how unprofessional you can be!” Sidney exclaims when Claire continues to ignore his requests.

“No,” She looks at him for a moment, gets back to reading your form on her clipboard, and meets Sid’s eyes once again. “It’s the consequences.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

The Letangs come in between the two to mitigate the tension, “We’ll just wait for as long as we need to.”

“Why? What’s the plan, Sid? Huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? To spend your years like Jagr?”

“Don’t you fucking go there.” He warns.

Even more appalled by Sidney’s reaction, Claire grins and shrugs shamelessly before walking away.

“I think I just did.”

𖥸

Sidney did not exactly know how he did it and how fast he had done it, but as soon as Claire had her hands full, he went straight to grab the brass metal of the door knob leading to your room.

Quietly, as he spared one last glance of his surroundings, he turns it and opens the door.

It was a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Sidney could not fully comprehend the things wrecking his brain all at once. Although he knew of one thing: he finally gets to see you.

Your mind drifts right off the tip of your finger as you look outside your window. The fog was so even and misty that it made the entire window a blur. The only thing you could see were the steady white lights of that huge corner block building fashioned by the noise of cars driving off to a better place than the four corners of your hospital bedroom.

Judging by the scenery, you could tell that it was well past midnight.

As you lie with your still aching heart, you find yourself grazing your stomach ever so gently as if you were holding something– someone, much more meaningful than your entire being.

If only he was–

“Hey.”

He is.

Sidney had both of his hands resting on his side alienated by the thick air he usually causes. It was a battle as to whether to go near you or stay still. But judging by the way you looked at him so strangely, he knew he didn’t have any other choice.

You watch him inch himself closer until he is already at the foot of the bed. He looked unusually small for a man of his stature. Your eyes did not miss a thing. You saw the hesitant look he had coupled with the urgency that is perhaps all too late to be paraded before your eyes.

Despite noticing all that, in Sidney’s eyes, you did nothing but look. He was scared not because it made him uneasy. He was scared because you have never looked at him that way.

There are so many things to be said but Sidney was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask how you were; how the baby was. He wanted to say how sorry he felt for leaving and how dumb it was to let you suffer when he could’ve been there like he should have. He wanted to let you know how badly he prays and hopes that you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him. But mostly, he just really wished that you’d still want to make it work and build that family – with him.

How could he say all that when it feels like you were miles away beyond his reach despite him already holding your hand?

Finally, as though the words have only occurred to him, he asks, “How are you?”

He looks back at you as intently as he thought you did. However, your eyes mirrored his, unwillingly. Sidney takes the empty seat beside your bed; never letting go of his hold on you.

Soon enough, you look away and aim your attention onto his hands. Both of his palms embraced your hand oh so desperately, pleading a prayer only he could hear.

“I’m sorry.” he says, eyes now misty with tears. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve been with you. I’m sorry. I was selfish. Please please forgive me.” he adds, pressing wet and much more desperate kisses on your hand.

He waited for you to say something in return but he received nothing. You looked at him exactly the way you did when he arrived; sparing him a blink or two whenever your eyes got tired.

It was the kind of silence Sidney wasn’t accustomed to. It was the kind of silence he never knew.

Until now. Until you.

His voice breaks when he decides to speak yet again.

“Please say something.” he desperately asks.

But you don’t.

You just lie in the same cold bed, letting him hold your hand.

Afraid of what has become you, Sidney masks his fear with a wide smile albeit it didn’t do any better. It just made him feel worse. Maybe even a thousand times more than he’s already had.

“Mon amour…” he calls you. “Please talk to me.”

You blink and look away.

Sorrow now filling the void he feels from within, Sidney sees your hand that was still resting atop your stomach.

For the first time, he then dared to ask, “How… How's the baby?”

Sidney sees you look at him yet again as if to finally acknowledge his presence in the room.

However, the words you spoke next nearly made him wish you did not bother at all.

“There is no baby, Sidney.”

You spit the words like vile coursing from your throat; voice hoarse from the eventful night.

“W-What?” he stammers, evidently shocked at your uninhibited way of revealing such news.

“There is no baby.” you repeat just as you remove your hand from his hold.

“You may go.” you quietly add, looking away.

Confused, off-guard, and terrified, Sidney tries to grasp the thought of the truth.

“What do you mean there is no baby?” Sidney begins to flood you with queries. “They must have read the tests wrong. It can’t be right, can it? Claire told Cathy everything was fine! We do have a baby!” he nearly grovels trying to get a hold of you, pleading.

“We have a baby, y/n.” He breaks. “We’re going to be a family.”

Oh you’d kill to have him say those words when you needed him to. Only he didn’t. And that is the truth you’re now choosing.

“I need you to go, Sidney.” you respond calmly, frustrating him even more.

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “What happened to our baby?”

“It’s gone, alright!” you lose it just as Sidney’s world begins to crumble, “You got what you wanted!”

You blink away the tears about to break just as you say, “I need you to go because I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“No– There’s got to be another way for us. We always find a way.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Sidney.” you reiterate. “I don’t think we should be together.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me,” he argues. “Just be mad at me, y/n!”

He grabs your hand and places it close to his cheek. You can feel the tears on his skin and his desperate cry to escape the inevitable.

You look at him with the same fondness you once had. The last he’ll ever see.

“It’s over, Sid.” you declare. “I don’t want this– I don’t want to be with you.”

“Y/N… please,” he says. “I’m begging you.”

“Leave, Sidney.” you reach for the red button on the side of your bed, hoping to get Claire.

Sidney’s tears continue to fall. But you no longer care.

“I can’t do this without you.” he says in between sobs.

You press the red button repeatedly. You wipe your tears away wishing Claire would get to you faster.

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor; a complete mess. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Before you can push him further away, the door to your room abruptly opens; Kris and Geno come into view.

With a firm yet cautious voice, Geno calls him. “Sidney.”

Kris puts an arm over Sidney’s shoulder, “Let her get some rest.”

“Y/N–” Sidney calls for you once more; bearing with him the thought of losing his son and his son’s mother. The family you wanted a little too early. The family he wanted a little too late. The painful truth that Sidney chose to carry with him for years however ugly and cruel you made it to be just so he can still make it seem real.

If only he knew.

series taglist: to be reblogged! [tumblr crashes a lot and won't let me post smh]

note: woooow been a hot min! how's everyone? i hope you liked this long over-due update i'm so sorry life got in the way for a bit. anw, you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think love ya! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #sidney crosby fanfiction #call me crosby #cmc #barzzal imagines #letters to crosby #the gif... very telling

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thefallennightmare · 11 months ago

Text

Just Pretend-Twenty One

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

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

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

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

Authors Note: This entire chapter will be in Angel's POV! Hence the gif!

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

READER

I sat on my bed with the notebook perched on my lap with papers and discarded pens all over my bedroom. Salem curled up on my pillow next to me, his purring an eerily calm background noise as it combined with the scratching of my pen on paper.

“I know it’s colder where I’m at,” I muttered in a soft tune.

Ew, no not that.

I scratched through the words with such force it ripped through the paper.

“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing the book onto the floor then rubbed ink-stained hands over my face.

I went through four different pens by now and changed the paper from my spiral notebook to printer paper. I had been held up in my room all night writing, not wanting to be bothered. With our tour starting in a few days, we needed to leave tomorrow which meant I spent most of my day and afternoon packing and getting things in order.

For the last few days, Hollow Souls had been working tirelessly to practice our setlist and make sure all of our visuals were spot on. It was our first tour of just the three of us and my nerves were taking over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that I was about to spend the next two weeks with my favorite artist.

nothing, nowhere.

Joe’s music had been a huge part of my healing process for years so when he reached out with the idea of opening up for Hollow Souls, immediately we agreed. Even though the nerves were still there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but always backed out. I told him I needed some time, truthfully I think I needed it to remind myself I could be my own person and succeed with this band for a little while.

Maybe I needed to prove to myself that I was able to take the lead of this band without anyone pointing the finger, thinking it was someone else behind the curtain. There wasn’t someone else. It was me.

My heart began to stutter in my chest, blood running cold, so I took a deep breath while counting to four; exactly like Dr. Poulos told me to do. Soon, I felt heat spread within me as the image of Noah danced behind my eyelids. I missed him and yearned for his presence. My stomach was in knots since the second I left his house a few days ago.

“I know it’s warmer where you are,” my eyes snapped open as the words fell from my lips.

Fuck, that's good.

We confessed, we told the truth. A weight was lifted off me. Noah loves me.

He fucking loves me back.

“I know it’s warmer where you are, and it’s safer by your side,” I sang while quickly writing it down on a fresh piece of paper. “Right now I can’t be what you want, just give it time.”

I began to ache at times, my stomach was sore, and my head would pound. It was often like this that I began to think I’d caught a cold. I wasn’t- it was just me feeling empty. I knew whatever this moment of self-reflection was, it was worth it. I love Noah and he loved me back.

We’d be together; soon. I had to believe that. I knew in my gut. I trusted it but I hope he trusted me.

“Cause if you and I can make it through the night,” my voice was loud now as I felt comfortable with how the lyrics were now pouring out of me.

But there was this nagging feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. We last texted each other at 10 p.m. that night saying we loved each other. The invisible string that always seemed to connect us was urging me to text him. This was something else I couldn’t ignore.

It was important to me that with this new love, the love for Noah, we have made the effort to fully heal first so we do the inner work that is required to become a whole person once more. All born into our era, our family, our body. We can only be ourselves and accountable for ourselves. He needed to know I loved him, and that I’d come to him.

Was it selfish of me to walk away after we confessed our love? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it was important for us both to grow from our experiences. So be that rare kind of true love and this bond will be eternal. That I promise him.

With a deep breath, I shifted my attention to my phone and decided to send the message before I doubted myself again.

Me: I love you, mochi.

Before I could even set my phone down, it buzzed in my hand with a new message.

Mochi 🍡: I love you, angel.

The crushing weight that I felt gripping around my heart lifted as I read Noah’s message over and over again. Although we were apart for the time being, we would be alright because we loved each other. I lay here in deep thought and my mind wandered back to my primal need for intimacy. There is that feeling of maturity, the admittance of being in love with Noah. It arrived without fanfare. Our souls were humble travelers and I could feel the bruise begin to form on my shoulder, so desperate to feel him again.

Salem rubbed his head against my arm and I brought him into my chest, peppering his face in kisses.

“We can meet in the middle, body and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight,” I muttered to myself.

Noah and I have a long road together, and it’s one I wanted to last.

A knock sounded on my door before it opened slowly, Chase's stern smile on his lips.

Uh oh.

He leaned against the door frame. "Sweets, I love you. You know I do. But you're fucking killing me with the paint on the carpet in the dining room."

I knew it.

"I'm sorry! I know, I know.” I nodded with a long sigh. “It's just the lighting in my bedroom sucks compared to the light in the dining room. I'll put down a drop next time."

Malcolm came into my room, laying a kiss on Chase’s cheek before falling onto the end of my bed somehow missing the mess I created with my writing.

“Don’t be so hard on her, Chase,” Malcolm said before motioning to my bed. “How’s the writing going?”

I shrugged. “It’s going, I guess. I think my mind is so preoccupied with the next few weeks that it’s hard to focus.”

“Excited?” Chase questioned.

“Excited?” I scoffed. “I’m fucking ecstatic. In less than twenty-four hours I’m going to meet one of my idols and tour with him for two weeks.”

Malcolm spoke next. “Feeling confident with the setlist?”

“Yeah! I think we’ve got a good amount of songs and I’m stoked to perform Eyelids live. I think it will be a great way to tease the new album.”

I’d been very apprehensive to put one of the newer songs on the set list only because some fans weren’t supportive of Eyelids or St. Patrick when they first came out. But Hollow Souls were evolving into a new era and we couldn’t continue to be stuck in the past.

“Ethan said the bus will be here to pick us up by noon tomorrow,” Chase informed. “Are you all packed and ready?”

I pointed to the three suitcases at the other end of my room but as Salem jumped off my lap to go lay with Malcolm, I realized something important.

"Oh, shit. I forgot to see if someone can take care of Salem,” I chastised myself.

I didn’t miss the glance the two of them shared and raised a brow as Malcolm spoke up. "Already taken care of."

“You asked Noah, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face.

“Maybe,” he shrugged while giving Salem some belly rubs.

Chase rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting next to Malcolm. “Of course we did. Who else would you ask?”

“I could have asked Jolly or Jesse. I didn’t want to put this on Noah,” I admitted with a shaky breath.

“Well, he’s basically Salem’s dad now,”

“Malcom!” I smacked his shoulder.

“I’m just saying,” he chuckled while rubbing his arm.

“We’re not official yet, guys,” I ran a hand through my hair before pulling my knees to my chest. “Please don’t do that.”

“No way,” Chase shook his hand as Malcolm rested a hand on his thigh. “We’re not doing that. You need to think of the positives. You two said you love each other. Soon you will find your way back to one another.”

“I love your optimism,” I said while playfully rolling my eyes.

“Hey, smart ass. We know these things,” Malcolm snorted while still playing with Salem.

“You do, huh? Do you have connections to the other side?” I teased.

“We were watching a show last week about alternate universes and shit. It made me think that maybe there’s more of us out there, ya know?” he squeezed Chase’s knee. “Who the hell knows, maybe you and Noah fucked one night, magically fell in love, and went on the road with him. By the end of it, you moved into an apartment that’s right across the street from his house because you couldn’t fathom being away from him,” Chase spoke with a smirk.

My face reddened as I shifted my gaze downwards. “Wow, that’s-uh-you really thought about that.”

Malcolm laughed. “Or what if in another life, Noah walked through literal flames for you.”

I snorted at that thought because there was no way Noah would risk his life to walk through a fire to save my life, even if I was hanging from a building.

“Now you’re talking about shit people read in romance novels. Did my long-lost brother start the fire as well?”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m just saying, the two of you will find your way. We’re proud of you and how far you’ve come. You and Noah will grow together.”

My heart jumped in my throat at how sincere Malcolm sounded and the way Chase’s eyes danced as he stared at me.

“Thank you guys. That means a lot to me,” I smiled.

“Always sweets, always,” Chase kissed my forehead. “You’re the miracle Noah needed, you know?”

“I think he was the miracle I needed as well,” I admitted.

READER

“Wow, Dallas. You are all such beautiful souls tonight. I cannot express our gratitude for all the support we’ve been getting this tour. We’re only four shows in and we’re having the best fucking time. Thank you,” I smiled into the microphone while tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind my ear.

The crowd cheered wildly as Chase pounded the foot pedal of his drum, the beat making my heart thump hard in my chest. It was night four of the tour and even though it was straight show after show and I was exhausted, I let the energy from the crowd up me hype to finish tonight strong.

The support of this tour had been fucking outstanding. Every show was sold out and we even had to move our last show into a bigger arena due to high demand. The three of us were so unbelievably proud of the direction we were headed and we didn’t want to look back.

“Before we play our last song, I think we need to show our opener some love!” I said into the microphone.

The crowd clapped and screamed but I frowned while shifting my weight on one foot while shaking my head.

“That’s pretty weak. I want the fucking roof to blow off of here. Let’s hear it for nothing, nowhere!”

Chase and Malcolm played an in-sync beat as the crowd screamed, cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down.

“That’s better.” I nodded with a smile while adjusting my guitar. “Not many know this but I’m such a huge fan of nothing, nowhere so to be here touring with him has me fangirling pretty hard right now.”

I peered over to the side stage where Joe was leaning, watching our set with a smile. We met a few days ago and even though I did my best to keep my composure, I was a giddy girl on the inside. He and Malcolm had a lot in common which made them click almost immediately which made tour life easy for all of us.

“So,” I cleared my throat while staring back out toward the crowd. “Our final song is a new one and I’m so excited to perform it in front of all of you. Our new album White Noise will be released in a few months. It’s different than our first three but we promise that it’ll be worth it.”

As the crowd clapped and cheered, I smiled. “My friends, thank you. This song is called Eyelids.”

As we began the song over the loud cheers of excitement, I let my eyes flutter shut as yet again, memories of mine and Noah’s night flashed in my mind.

"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."

I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never been this turned on.

With one touch I could have sworn he entered my soul. As if my body was his key. He entered me and it fit, pun not intended. Not a thing of metal nor gold, Yet a sensation of love that came.

"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh

I used the small break-in lyrics to let out a deep breath, doing my best to remain centered so I could finish the rest of the song strong

Noah was in every aspect of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the song.

His fingertips, his eyes, his lips on every inch of skin, or the way Noah steadied our breaths. “Breathe through it with me.”

I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.

Through his sweet words and the resolution of my survival self to never let anyone else sit at my core. He was already there.

As the song ended and I thanked the crowd with a bow, I thought how relieved I was to discover my pure self. That this with Noah could be real love. There was no temptation to change because it was our real selves that bonded us. It is our real selves that each other loves.

That night, I walked away from him without listening to his pleas but now, we were different. We had grown together, for each other.

Tonight, I vowed then and there under the bright lights of this stage that I’d stay.

I would always stay with Noah.

“Kick ass show tonight, guys!” Joe cheered while giving us a round of high-fives.

I smirked while whipping out my phone. “Thanks, Joe! Give me a few minutes and we can head to karaoke.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Whose time zone is it tonight?”

“Mine” I smirked into my phone while I quickly typed out a message.

Me: I love you, mochi.

“Oh,” a hand with a rose tattoo waved in front of my face. “Who has you smiling like that?”

Playfully narrowing my eyes at Joe, I stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.”

Just then a new message popped up and my heart fluttered when I saw Noah’s response. It was the same response for the last week but every time, my smile spread wide on my face.

Mochi 🍡: I love you too, angel.

When I went to put my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a new message, this time it was a video from Noah of Salem lying on a couch, one I hadn’t seen before.

“Salem, say hi to your mom. She misses you,” Noah’s voice came from the background.

I broke out in an even bigger smile and giggled when my cat did not move, didn't even bat an eye as Noah scratched behind his ears. But the music playing in the background suddenly caught my attention.

The lyrics sounded so familiar.

“Gave you way too many chances but it wasn't enough.”

I replayed the video a few more times to make sure.

“No way,” I muttered, not paying attention to the conversation behind me with Joe, Malcolm, and Chase.

I quickly sent a text to Noah.

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

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

My brow peaked.

Me: You took him outside?

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

“Sweets, let’s go!” Chase called from behind. “The karaoke place closes in like an hour!”

I waved him off before texting Noah back.

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

He responded with another video and when his face graced my screen, my heart jumped into my throat.

Fuck. Me.

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

“Well, who’s that?”

Joe peered over my shoulder causing me to jump slightly while clutching the phone close to my chest.

“Geez, can’t a girl get some privacy?” I asked with flushed cheeks.

The image of Noah in that video played in my mind on a fucking loop and I suddenly did not want to go out with the guys tonight.

Joe raised a brow. “Oh, that’s him?”

Malcolm looked between Joe and me, noticing how red my face was. “What the hell did Noah send you?”

“No-nothing. Just a video of Salem,” I stammered at first but was quick to recover.

Chase’s mouth parted to speak but soon his eyes turned dark, jaw clenching as he stared past me.

“What’s wr-,” I didn’t get a chance to ask because an all too familiar voice crept deep into my bones, ripping me apart from the inside out.

“You still have that fucking cat?”

My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach and I let my eyes flutter shut, all the breath leaving my lungs.

No. No. No. Please, not here. Not now.

“He can’t be,” I shook my head while keeping my eyes trained hard on Chase, doing my best to stay centered.

Do as Dr. Poulos says; deep breath in for three seconds, long breath out for four seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malcolm spat while stepping in front of me.

“I needed to come to check out the new Hollow Souls,” the deep voice chuckled darkly.

I didn’t miss the venom in his words.

But I never turned around, simply kept my gaze straight on Chase who still refused to look at me; his own hard gaze was trained on the man behind me. Joe noticed the sudden tension and rested a gentle hand on my elbow.

“Y/N?” His words were white noise.

I’m imagining this. He’s not here right now. There’s no way.

“You looked good on that stage, baby. Although, I bet you’d look even better in the back of it.”

No. No. No.

A sharp whistle. “I know you hear me.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Why are you here?” Chase’s voice was thick with anger.

The voice that I spent so many days in therapy talking about let out a low scoff.

“What? I came to see my protégé.”

Malcolm pushed me towards Joe. “Can you take her back to our bus? We’ll be there soon.”

I shook my head feverishly with tears brimming in my eyes, my back still to the one I refused to look at.

“No. It’s not worth it. Please guys,” I begged while Joe wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Please come with me.”

Chase’s eyes softened when he finally peered down at me. “It’ll be okay, sweets. We’re just going to talk; promise.”

“Come on,” Joe urged my frozen state a few steps.

Until that darkness pulled me back into the place I spent many days dragging myself out of.

“Oh, it seems as if you’re back to your old ways. Fucking the opening act, huh? How does good ‘ol Noah feel about that?” Trey did the jerking-off gesture at Noah’s name.

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I spun on my heels, Joe’s arm falling away from me. “Don’t you dare say his name. You haven’t earned the right to talk about him!”

Those cold eyes that I swore at one point I’d have a future with bore into my soul as he ran a hand through the curly locks on his head. Trey smirked wickedly at me.

“I should call him up. Better yet,” He stuck a cigarette on his lips. “Maybe I’ll send him the video I took of you two ogling each other while you were on stage.”

I took a step towards Trey but Malcolm held out his arm to stop me, only for me to push it away.

“Go ahead! You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about. We should have had you fucking blacklisted,” my upper lip curled, barring my teeth.

“Good luck, baby. My name gets me places, I can’t help it. Plus, I needed to come see my protege. Since I fucking made you,” Trey twirled his hand towards me with a snide smirk.

“MADE ME?!” My eyes doubled as my voice roared through the dwindling venue as fans slowly took their time leaving.

The stagehands and crew members paused their work to watch my outburst.

I took a deep breath to center myself again, not wanting to create a scene right now when there were still so many prying eyes. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’re doing fine without you.”

Turning my back to him yet again, I allowed Joe to lead me away with a hand ghosting over my lower back; until Trey’s voice stopped me.

“You’re so broken you don’t even trust yourself.”

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Come-.”

“Excuse me?!” I turned swiftly on my heels, hair whipping over my shoulder.

Trey shrugged while reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You heard me.”

I smacked his hand away, the noise echoing loudly backstage. “No. No, I don’t think I did. Say it again.”

“You’re broken.” Now his hands were in his pocket, a lit cigarette hanging loosely on his lips. “That uh- that new song? That's about him, isn’t it? Where is he?”

Trey made a show of looking around backstage. “I don’t see him anywhere. Oh, let me guess. You demolished it right? ‘Cause we all know you can’t have a perfect thing without doing that.”

My hands curled at my side, knuckles turning white from how hard my nails dug crescent moon shapes into my palm.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Trey! You never did and you don’t know a fucking thing about Noah, okay?”

“I don’t need to. I know enough,” Trey blew the smoke towards Malcolm.

Before he could take a step towards him, Chase wrapped an arm around his chest to pull him away.

“You know he has asthma, you piece of shit!” I pushed Trey hard in the chest. “No. No! No! You’re not going to do this.”

“Do what? We both get off on hurting other people,” Trey snickered while taking a step toward me. “I tell you the fucking truth. You’re on the stage singing your pretty little lullabies and maladaptive daydreams because I let you! And you know what else? That little Sykes wanna be?”

When he made the gesture of sucking a dick, I nearly gagged in my mouth at how disgusting and vulgar Trey actually was.

Anger filled my veins as he continued to spew his venom. Every single thing Trey said was meant for one thing; to hurt and destroy. He’d spent years perfecting it and before, I’d swim in it.

Now? Now I was different and I wasn’t afraid of standing up to him.

“No! Shut the fuck up!” I ran a wild hand through my hair before pointing a finger at him. “You were such a poison that I should have avoided. Every single part of you. I thought you wanted to save me but in the end, all you did was break me!”

Tears fell from my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I refused to cry in front of everyone; especially Trey. He didn’t get the privilege to break me. Not again.

“How dare you reach out your hand? You said you loved me but acted like you hated me,” I choked on a sob. “I should have run but I didn’t.”

Trey flicked the ashes on the ground at my feet with a fake pout on his lips but before he could say anything I pointed another finger into his chest causing him to stumble back.

“No! I have to get this off my chest! There’s more shit I have to say!”

I could feel the proud smiles of Chase, Malcolm, and even Joe as they all flanked behind me. Not stepping in but still wanting to be close in case they needed to.

“You’re not half the man you think you are! You’re not! You’re abusive, an addict, and I hated the way you would make me feel. Everything I did was under a constant microscope with you.”

I began to list things on my fingers. “I couldn’t dress the way I wanted. I couldn’t talk to who I wanted. I couldn’t even fucking talk about things that I enjoyed because if it didn’t involve you, it wasn’t important. In the beginning, you needed to know my every single fucking move. But the one night you went out with your friends and I asked where you were going, you thought it would be funny to choke me!”

“What the fuck?!” Chase roared while stepping up next to me.

I placed a hand on his chest but kept my eyes on Trey. “I’ve outgrown you, I fell out of every trace of love and respect for you, Trey. I’ve moved fucking past you. Yes, in the beginning, I thought that maybe there might have been a chance for us. But you found yourself on drugs and nicotine. A hollow body like a figurine and I always felt like an accessory.”

Joe turned his head towards me with a small smile on his lips.

“Looking back now, I can see it. You always tried to put me in the background. I wasted so much fucking time on you and you wasted so much Hollow Souls time. You held us back for so long because you thought you knew what was best for us.”

A muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. “I fucking made you. I made this band.”

I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh, please. Everyone knows that Hollow Souls was my idea. I was the one who asked Chase and Malcolm to join. I wrote the songs. I wanted to produce our songs but you immediately shot that idea down claiming it was too much work and not worth it.”

Thankfully, it was long after our show ended and the main part of the venue had cleared out but there were still workers backstage as they tore down our equipment. They acted like they weren’t listening to our fight but I knew that with the glances our way every so often, they heard everything.

“You always wanted to change shit that didn’t need to be changed,” he snarled.

I held my arms out wide. “And look where I’m at? Every show on this tour is sold out. We had to upgrade to a bigger venue because of high demand.”

“What?” Trey tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Do you want a fucking medal for that?”

I stepped on the bud of the cigarette, stepping right up into Trey’s space. “You fucked with my head knowing that I couldn't take it and for that, I can't forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.”

Chase waved over security as my final words relieved the weight that I didn’t know was on my shoulders. I thought that the last time I saw Trey I wouldn’t need to say my peace but saying it now, I felt as if I could breathe easier.

“I don’t need you to forgive me, Y/N.” He scoffed. “Noah will never love you and that you won’t blame me for.”

My lips twitched in a smile as I breathed through the last of my stray tears. “You’re wrong, Trey. He does love me, and I love him. You won’t disturb my peace anymore, never again. I’m moving on, and I’m happy. You should be sad, and truly I feel sorry for you.”

I took a step back to stand in between Chase and Malcolm just as security snuck up behind Trey.

“I hope you choke in your sleep while you're dreaming of me. I fucking hope when you suffocate in your sheets that I'll be the last thing you see. Goodbye, Trey,”

My hands shook at my side, something that Joe noticed so he gave them a reassuring squeeze.

One of the security guards grasped Trey’s elbow to drag him out but he ripped it from the guy's grasp. Trey eyed all four of us, his gaze lingering on me a few seconds longer than the others before he spat on the ground at my feet.

The old me would have let that bother her. But the new me simply smirked as I watched security escort Trey out of the building.

Ethan came up to us in haste as he looked back towards Trey. “What the fuck was he doing here?!”

Malcolm made sure that Trey was out of sight then turned towards Ethan, pointing a stern finger at him. “Do whatever you can to get that piece of shit blacklisted from any Hollow Souls shows in the future.”

“Bad Omens too,” I nodded firmly.

Chase cupped my cheek. “Sweet, are you alright?”

Through tears, I nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

“How do you feel?” He had a faint smile on his lips.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, really thinking about Chase’s question.

Relief.

This felt like a new wave of freedom. Something I’ve yet to experience in a long while. A new form.

I looked back at my new friend and then at my brothers; my family. Those who bring a sense of love into my life. We can make choices to care for the self and still be kind. I had so much to say to him. It felt good to release it- yet; still I killed him with kindness. Something he’d never dare show me.

You can care better for others from strength than weakness.

At the expense of my own comfort. It’s a prudence with integrity that awaits the right moment to be brave. I felt brave.

I was ready for my new beginnings.

Joe motioned behind me. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bus.”

While Malcolm and Chase hung back to talk more with Ethan about what happened I allowed Joe to lead me outside. The cool night air danced around me with a comforting touch and I let it ease my heated skin. As I made the walk towards where the bus was, Joe had other plans and dragged me to a bench at the back of the venue.

“What?” I asked.

“Sit.” When I didn’t move, Joe nodded to the bench behind me. “Sit down, Y/N. Take a breather. I can see the rage in your eyes and the vein in your neck is doing a weird twitch thing.”

Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, rubbing at it, before sitting on the bench with a long breath; Joe doing the same.

We let a long beat of silence fall between us and with the sudden breeze of cold air, I shivered and covered my bare arms suddenly wishing I didn’t wear the dress with skinny straps.

“Cold?” Joe wondered.

When I nodded, he handed over his jacket which I took gratefully. “I’ll make sure to give it back to you.”

“Good,” he snorted playfully. “Because it’s my favorite.”

I chuckled while easing onto the bench, now warm. “About what happened inside with Trey-.”

Joe bumped his shoulder with mine. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve been through something similar. I did love how you threw in lyrics from Clarity in Kerosene. ”

I rubbed my hands on my thighs, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah. Your album Reaper means a lot to me so it felt therapeutic in a way.”

We sat for another long while, enjoying the quiet that shocked us for being in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night but neither of us was complaining.

“It’s an honor doing this tour with you, Joe. I’ve been a fan for so long.” I smiled at him.

“Hey, the honor is all mine,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. “Hollow Souls has been on my playlist for a long time.”

A familiar memory of long ago crept into my mind of someone saying the same thing.

“We're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows.”

“Ya know, someone else told me the same thing the first time I met him,” I said with a warm smile.

Joe’s brow peaked. “Yeah? Seems like I’ll have to meet this someone.”

Noah flashed in my mind now; his infectious smile, his bright almond eyes, and the sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. Even though he was hundreds of miles away, our souls were always connected. It was as if he was sitting right here with me. I could feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh and his lips on mine.

“I love you, angel,” those eyes glimmered as he watched me.

“Hm,” I hummed while bumping my shoulder with Joe’s again. “Maybe someday.”

READER

As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my long locks, I sighed in content and made work of getting ready. It was an off day but I had no plans, something I intended to keep so much so that I was dressed in a pair of Bad Omens joggers and a black crop top tank. My typical stay-home outfit.

Just when I was about to load up my laptop to continue writing, there was a persistent knock on my hotel room door. It wasn’t Chase or Malcolm since they mentioned to me earlier that they were spending the day doing a joint interview and then getting something to eat.

Some would think it was weird that I wasn’t going to an interview with them but Hollow Souls were all for doing our own separate interviews or joint. I did my fair share of solo ones, the same with Chase and Malcolm. I actually had one planned in a few days so I wasn’t too upset about skipping out on this one today.

“Joe?” I asked while leaning against the open door. “What’s up?”

He smiled while giving me a once-over. “Good, you’re dressed. Grab your things and let’s go.”

“Go where?” My brows furrowed.

“We’re not going to waste the day away inside. I have our whole afternoon planned,” Joe adjusted his hat.

“You do, huh?” I chuckled while leaving him on the threshold of the open door so I could grab my things, not wanting to forget the small camera I brought along for this tour, and slipped on a pair of white Converse.

With the door closed behind me, I let Joe lead me toward the elevator where we waited for it.

“There’s this sunflower field I was thinking we could check out,” Joe said.

“That sounds nice,” I smiled while we both stepped into the elevator.

“Hilary sent it to me this morning and said it would be a great place to clear your head with what happened last night,” he informed.

“Did you tell her-?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the elevator descended.

Joe quickly shook his head. “Nope. I only mentioned how you needed to clear your head.”

“Thank you,” I breathed when the doors opened.

For the next few hours, Joe and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the sunflower field. We laughed, we joked, and he told me about his life growing up as I did the same. He also told me about an ex of his that messed him up mentally causing him to hide away for a year.

“I had to cancel shows because the depression and panic attacks were so bad I had to seek treatment,” Joe said as we neared the end of the sunflower maze. “I went to hospitals, sat with monks in Buddhist temples, and went to therapy. I was so mad that someone took years out of my life.”

I smiled solemnly. “I understand what that’s like.”

“Therapy told me that I need to stop hating the world and hating myself. I found someone who showed me what love is and I’ll forever be grateful for her,” Joe said.

“She sounds like a lovely person, Joe. I’m glad you were able to find your happy ending.”

We came to a stop in front of a large patch of sunflowers with him a few spaces in front of me.

“Hey,” I called after him, beckoning him to turn around so I could take a picture of him.

His black hood was pulled over his hat and a small bag crossed over his chest. Although he didn’t smile on his lips, I could see it in his eyes.

“It seems like you found your own happy ending,” Joe noted.

My cheeks burned as I waved him off. “Oh, no. Not yet. We’re not official.”

“But you text each other every night at 10 o'clock to say I love you?”

“It’s-,” I pursed my lips while looking around the field. “Complicated”.

Being in an open field like this, the breeze blowing through my hair, made me remember the last time I was in a place of solace like this.

Earlier that day.

"Noah?" I asked while looking up at him through lashes.

"Yes, angel?"

"You have a cute nose," my voice was quiet.

Noah tilted his head to the side. "My nose?"

"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," I booped his nose.

"Did-did you just boop my nose?" Noah chuckled with a scrunched face.

"See!" I pointed to him. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."

"Angel, literally.”

"Mochi, literally," I mocked while sticking out my tongue.

Joe’s soft voice brought me out of the memory and I blinked at me. “Hm, I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“Do you want to be with Noah?” He asked his question again while gripping the strap of his bag.

“More than anything,” I answered without missing a beat.

He shrugged. “Then what’s holding you back?”

I licked my lips while shifting on my feet. “It’s not as easy as you think. After that party, so much happened and things were said that I can’t exactly forget. I was hurt and needed time away.”

“So you just left?”

Hearing the reality of what I did from someone else made the guilt eat away at my insides and my heart sunk low.

“I needed to get my head together,” I defended while adjusting the black beanie on my head.

“Do you guys even talk? Besides the usual 10 p.m. texts?” Joe asked.

Not wanting to speak, I shook my head with a long breath.

“Y/N, this might not be my place, but that wasn’t very fair of you to do that.”

I bit my lip, not trying to snap at Joe because all he was doing was being a good friend; something I needed.

“My therapy session is tomorrow. I didn’t need it today,” I sighed while running my hands up and down my thighs.

“My friend, you do,” Joe snorted. “Why are you so afraid of committing to this?”

I played with the string of my joggers, really mewling over his question. Noah and I moved past all the bullshit and we’re ready to finally be together. So what was I so afraid of?

With a wobbly lip, I let out a shaky breath and met Joe’s eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint him, I don’t want him to ever feel like I don’t support him or something.”

He squeezed my arm. “I don’t think you can. If you’re both more than aware that you’re human beings, Y/N.”

“Understandable,” I nodded. “But I don’t want him to know how flawed I can be.”

“It’s vital to face hard facts and choose to be present, honest, and mindful of what’s happening in the life of your relationship. You guys aren’t even official yet and you’re worrying about shit that you don’t need to.”

Birds chirping were muted by the sudden commotion of a group of people arriving at the sunflower patch but neither Joe nor I moved from the end of the maze we finished a while ago.

“You’re not robots, Y/N.” He began. “Erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs so you can learn to powerfully communicate your needs. You both need to talk. Get it out of yourselves, don’t curl up with shit alone. Don’t do that to him. Don’t assume the worst about him, especially when you haven’t even discussed things properly.”

I crossed my arms over my chest while shifting all of my weight to one foot. “I never even noticed. In hindsight, I thought I was doing something validating. Turns out I hurt him numerous times, and he still did nothing but try to love me. Even when I wasn’t perfect. I left him alone in that hotel room because things became to real. I left him the night of the party because we both admitted we love each other. And I do. I love him, Joe. I love him so much. I want us to work. But I don’t understand why I keep leaving him. I don’t want it; I just do.”

Joe gave me a warm smile. “I know, Y/N. You should talk to your therapist about this. I think she can give you more insight than I can offer but just know I understand. You need to approach Noah and this relationship with a loving spirit, believing that he will love you and we want to satisfy you in every way. That he is deserving of your love and kindness even if things feel too good to be true. Feel it out, you’re probably that good of a fit.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Joe, I don’t need another therapist.”

He snorted. “No, you don’t, but I’d like to think I’m your friend and I’m telling you, that doing this to someone you love isn’t fair. Noah deserves to communicate with you too. I haven’t met the guy or seen the two of you together but from what you told me I already know. He fucking loves you, Y/N.”

“I love him too, so fucking much, okay? I do,” I admitted with tears in my eyes.

“I’m not saying you don’t/. I don’t know everything but, from my experience and what I’ve learned, shit like this can ruin a perfectly good relationship because we simply don’t tell ourselves the truth.”

I cocked my head to the side confused. “Truth about what?”

“About why you’re subconsciously running,” Joe said. “You’re scared shitless and this avoidance can lead to procrastination that delays dealing with damaging stressors on or within your relationship. It did until the pipe finally burst at the birthday party.”

“Should I be paying you by the hour?” I joked with a small chuckle.

“If you want to,” he snorts. “No, but come on. If you want him to be there for you, to be your everything, then you have to give half as well.”

“I know. I want to. I’ve been feeling so sick lately without him.”

It was true.

Noah and I seemed to have been brought together by this unknown force. The universe? Maybe: we didn’t believe in high powers, yet also knew we weren’t alone.

Staggered over weeks, months, or years. In this time the pain of our separation was an act as a focusing lens. The point was to give each other time to see the purity of our love, to be sure that there can be only one lover for this lifetime.

Seems silly, especially in this era. Yet, it’s how I feel. I just know.

I get almost neurotic to my knees. I know that I must get enough sleep. He made a sham of my pain. I feel like I blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum.

Why, when he’s not around I feel lonely when there’s company around. I’m not lost, but I have been found. That level of emotional indifference is not a mark of superiority, but the reverse. I was always worth more, I just needed to educate myself as to how and why.

It hit me. My body yearned for the other half of me. The lovers who are right for one another take away the other pain naturally, by virtue of who they are the strength of their loving bond.

I couldn’t wait to embrace him again.

Joe peered over his shoulder, noticing a group of people slowly reaching us so he motioned for me to start walking in step with him. “Of course you do. It’s like half of your entire body is ripped apart and begging for the other half back.”

I smacked his arm. “Yes, exactly like that! Even though we’re far apart from each other right now, I still know subconsciously what he’s doing without actually knowing.”

“Exactly. So you two need to talk together about what you’re facing. Discuss the realities and your key concerns. Listen to each other and reflect on what you hear for optimal understanding. Be curious and open-minded concerning each other’s ideas and solutions for relief and change. If you love him, meet him in the middle like you’re saying in the song, Y/N. Don’t just use words, act too.”

We reached the rental car and Joe leaned against the driver's door. “What do you want this song to do; to say?”

My forehead creased as I put deep thought into Joe’s question. “I think I want to expose the vulnerability. I’m kind of like star light. Maybe it can guide the way to the ones who must travel by night. The ones who don’t know that there is something special waiting for you if you keep pushing forward.”

Joe bumped his fist with mine. “I love that, a reminder for people. However, it’s not just about that.”

“No, no it isn’t,” I chuckled. “It’s special that we aren't so different, him and I. Somehow together we are balanced. As yin and yang, but a perfect match. All I want is for him to ask me to stay again, and I’ll always say yes.”

JOE

The conversation between Malcolm and Chase was muted as we sat at the hotel restaurant, my food going cold a while ago. After my afternoon with Y/N at the sunflower field with our conversation and everything that happened last night, something was weighing heavy on my mind.

Malcolm must have sensed it because he waved a hand in front of my face. “Everything alright?”

My eyes snapped up towards him and I nodded. “Oh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just reflecting on that whole interaction last night.

Chase hummed while resting an arm over the back of Malcolm’s chair. “We’re sorry Trey pulled you in the middle of it.”

“It’s fine but he’s a fucking piece of work,” I said.

Malcolm took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah. He’s always been a piece of shit. It was like that for fucking years. Trey tried to dictate everything she did. What the band did. He was off doing what he wanted when he wanted. Y/N would fall into it time after time until-.”

“Til Noah?” I asked with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah,” Chase spoke next. “Have you ever heard of Bad Omens?”

“I’ve heard their name and listened to a couple of their songs. But I’ve never seen his face until recently,” I said.

“Did he send her a dirty photo?!” Malcolm’s eyes widened.

“No!” I shook my head with a chuckle. “Y/N showed me a picture of him in braids.”

“Oh, that picture,” Chase snorted.

I continued again. “Noah has a great range and a good ear; talented guy. He seems crazy about Y/N from what she said.”

“Oh, he is. Shit, he’s over the fucking moon and back and everything fucking else. They have some otherworldly shit going on.”

“Oh yeah? Think so?” I asked Malcolm.

He shared a look with Chase, both of them smiling. “We know so. Noah made her fucking smile again. Laugh in a way we hadn’t heard in so long. He gave her confidence when she desperately needed it. Y/N became herself again. It’s been so beautiful to watch her hatch from the sick cocoon she was in. Last night was a terrific example. We’re so proud of her.”

“Yeah, that was something; the way she stood up to him. She kicked his ass. I may not have been around or anything for long, but that was awesome to see. I’d like to talk to Noah about it.”

Chase and Malcolm shared yet another look, the former's brows raised as he looked at me.

“You want Noah’s number? That’s a bit random, no?”

“I just want to formally introduce myself,” I assured them. “To let him know how Y/N was last night and how awesome your record is.”

“Is that all you want to let him know? Or do you want to make sure Noah knows that you’re not a threat? Because he knows you aren’t. And he also knows that Trey hasn’t come near her,” Malcolm reassured me.

“No, it’s not even about that,” I leaned forward on the table to rest my arms on it. “I want to keep him in the loop, I have a feeling they’re still working out this what do I say or not say phase. Y/N’s become a friend now, and I’d like to also reach out my hand so he knows things are cool on our end.”

I shrugged. “Plus, Noah deserves to know how badass she is and that she can take care of herself.”

After dinner, on my way back up to my hotel room, I had my phone in my hand as I worked out the message to Noah.

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

Now in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed to send another text.

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

Only a few minutes went by when Noah texted back.

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

I quickly responded to Hilary’s text before typing out my reply to Noah.

Me: In case she needed support.

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

I let out a loud laugh when I saw the meme Y/N sent me but swiped away the message for right now, continuing to text Noah.

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

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

I busied myself the next long while getting myself packed since we were planning on leaving in a few hours to head to the next city. Once finished, I realized that Noah texted me back almost instantly after I sent the last text.

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

Me: Hell yes!

READER

“And if you and I can make it through the night,” I hummed while sitting in my bunk on the tour bus.

My laptop was perched in my lap as I loaded up Zoom, clicking on Dr. Poulos’ contact. It wasn’t our usual appointment day or time but with what happened the other day, I felt as if I needed an emergency session. It wasn’t because of the negative parts but for the first time in a long while, I felt good. My spirits were high and nothing could wipe the smile from my face.

“Well someone seems like they’re in good spirits today.” Dr. Poulos’ voice sang through my speakers.

Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had black glasses perched high on her nose.

“I am actually,” I smiled, the kind of smile that made the corner of your eyes crinkle.

She tilted her head. “Care to elaborate?”

I began telling her the entire story of Trey and my afternoon with Joe from top to bottom; from that night up until now.

“I’m very proud of you, Y/N for standing up for yourself and closing that chapter in your life. And Joe seems like he’s becoming a great friend in the aspect of telling you things you need to hear.”

“Yeah, he is.” I nodded.

Although I was in high spirits before this meeting, something shifted in my brain and I began to stare at the keyboard of my laptop.

“What’s the matter Y/N? You’re slipping into disassociating thought,” Dr. Poulos’ voice brought me back.

“Nothing,” I had a tight lip smile.

“Y/N,” she warned. “We’ve talked about this; you need to be open and transparent.”

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. “Okay, well-.”

When she motioned me on with a nod, I continued. “How- fuck this is embarrassing. How do I stop running away?”

“Do you grasp that’s what you’ve been doing to Noah?”

“I do,” I admitted. “But it hasn’t been intentional. I love him, I’m- I just don’t want to become my parents.”

Dr. Poulos’ gave me a small smile. “It’s great that you’re seeking to address this pattern. Building healthy relationships often involves understanding and addressing the root causes of our behaviors.”

“I’m trying.”

“It might be helpful to reflect on past experiences and identify any underlying fears or insecurities that may be contributing to your tendency to run away from relationships,” she adjusted her glasses.

“I know it’s my mother, I know it is. Noah seemed to know it too since he was there that day she reamed into me,” I said.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I remember that day. You were very grateful for him being there weren’t you?”

“More than anything. He’s my safety when I feel like I have none,” I answered.

“That’s wonderful Y/N. In Addition, I suggest practicing self-care, setting boundaries, and communicating openly with Noah as your partner, rather than your friend, which can help build a foundation for more fulfilling and lasting connections. I remember you telling me you finally admitted your love for each other,” Dr. Poulos couldn’t hold back the wide smile on her face now.

“Yes. I do, I do love him and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Noah’s already so hard on himself with everything. I don’t want to be one more thing he’s hard on himself about. I want to help, be his escape, and his safe haven. I want him to trust I’ll stay because I want to; I will always stay.”

She wrote something down in her journal before resting her chin in her hand as she looked back at me through her screen. “I know, Y/N. You’ve spoken about this often. Seeking support in this form can also provide valuable insights and strategies for breaking this pattern. I believe the two of you can and you won’t run.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the length becoming a big annoyance lately. “You know so much about this, Dr. Poulos. I don’t know the first thing. I want to be able to communicate with him. Not do what I have been doing.”

“Y/N, it’s normal. It’s critical that before you speak to Noah, you suspend any assumptions or conclusions that put you at odds with him. You absolutely need to approach him by making a generous assumption; and by giving him the benefit of the doubt. This is what it means to be a team, even when you’re feeling distant. You keep loving even when you are feeling as if you are unloveable. You’re not going to do what you did with Trey.”

“Trey.”

His name still tasted bitter on my tongue.

“Yes,” Dr. Poulos nodded. “You got your closure on that chapter. Now this is a new one.

“I can’t shake the fear sometimes. The fear of the feeling coming at me all at once and messing it up,” I shifted in my bunk.

“What I suggest doing when you are feeling upset or angry is to own your emotions and realize that they stem from your interpretation of the situation, not from the facts of the situation. Your fears and deep-seated beliefs about your own sense of inadequacy, unworthiness, or unlovability often lie at the root of all those negative stories you tell yourself about why life is happening the way that it is.”

“Woah,” I blinked. “That’s-uh-a great observation.”

Dr. Poulos narrowed her eyes at me while steepling her fingers under her chin. “I have an assignment for you.”

“Oh, come on! You know how busy I already am,” I joked with a wave of my hand.

She let out a soft giggle. “Yes, well, this will be fairly simple.”

“Take a moment to challenge your assumptions, and allow the possibility that something completely different could be true. Like that, you are loved! And that with patience and respectful communication, you can experience something exceptional with Noah. You said his album is coming out soon, this party could be a great way to try this. Have you thought about going?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said without missing a beat.

“Wonderful Y/N, see this as an opportunity to vulnerably share something about yourself with Noah, be curious so that you, through this experience, can learn something with him, too.”

I’d be the first one to admit that at first, therapy wasn’t something I thought I needed. It was a waste of time to talk about my feelings with someone who didn’t understand. But right now, I was eating my words.

“Joe was right,” I said after a few beats of silence.

“About?” Dr. Poulos shook her head with confusion.

“Discussing this further with you, thank you it helps,” I ended our session with a large smile.

READER

“Not to be overly dramatic. I just think it's best. 'Cause you can't miss what you forget.” Joe sang into the microphone.

I sat in my spot on the couch in the interview space, watching and singing along with a bright smile.

“So, let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant,” he finished the song with a long breath.

I, along with the interviewer, Jackson, clapped as Joe took a seat next to me on the couch.

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

My phone buzzed in my lap and with a glance downward, I felt my face warm at the name.

Mochi 🍡: You look phenomenal, angel.

“Thank you,” Joe nodded with a faint smile. “I’m sure I can speak for Y/N that we’re both glad to be here.”

“It seems like the tour is going pretty well. Every show is sold out. How does that feel for you, Joe? I know Hollow Souls are used to this feeling,” Jackson said while fixing his notes, not looking at me.

I tilted my head to the side, tongue brushing over my bottom lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He finally looked my way and shrugged. “It's just that Hollow Souls is already pretty popular. You guys are used to playing in front of a sold-out crowd.”

“Are you saying that nothing, nowhere isn’t? Or did you forget that his last headlining tour had three back-to-back sold-out shows?” I questioned with a raised brow.

“Well,” Jackson shifted in his chair across from us and looked at Joe.

He merely ran a hand through his hair. “Number one fan.”

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

Joe and I shared a look then I made a show of rolling my eyes while crossing my legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”

My phone buzzed again but this time, I opened the message to read it fully.

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

I cleared my throat while setting my phone screen down in my lap just in time for Joe to speak.

“No, no. I’m spoken for.”

Jackson looked at me. “Y/N?”

“That’s my name, yes. Do you have a question about Hollow Souls or the tour?” I said with slight venom in my voice.

Typically I didn’t mind interviews but every once in a while, I’d get an asshole of an interviewer that asked all the wrong kinds of questions.

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

My face twitched as something inside of me burned. I leaned towards Jackson with narrowed eyes.

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

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

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

While Jackson changed his direction and tone of questions towards Joe for the next couple of minutes, I bounced my knee as the anger continued to fest low in my gut until another text came in.

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

A hot flash of arousal took over every inch of me as I shifted in my spot on the couch, clenching my thighs together to curb the itch that burned there.

“Everything alright?” Joe wondered when he saw the warmth on my cheeks.

I cleared my throat. “Yep. Totally fine.”

It would be so easy to call Noah to have our first phone sex but the thought of messing with him later sounded more fun.

“So, Y/N. I’d love to know what the future of Hollow Souls looks like?” Jackson questioned with a different tone.

“See? It’s not that hard to ask questions that actually matter,” I teased with a smile. “But I don’t think we found ourselves because we always knew we wanted this style and this direction but we never really had the confidence to do that.”

“With this record though, we finally have the assurance to know that we can make it work.”

“Is there inspiration behind this new album?” Jackson wondered.

“I've always been really inspired by dark things and the supernatural for some reason. Ghosts, paranormal stuff, death, anger, sadness.”

I gave pause when I realized that this wasn’t exactly a happy inspiration.

“Well, anything that’s not happy basically inspires me, which sounds kinda messed up,” I admit with a laugh.

“A lot of the new record, I wrote when I was having a really bad time mentally. I don’t like calling it depression but it seemed like that and I couldn’t pinpoint what my issues were, or what was wrong with me but I knew there was something wrong.”

Joe watched with a proud smile and I knew that there were a few others back home watching with their own proud smile; my heart could feel it.

“My problems weren’t tangible things, they weren’t things I could see or explain to people so in a way it was like they were ghosts or spirits that were haunting me,” I continued.

Jackson rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is?”

I pursed my lips, thinking about my answer deeply. “I think a lot of people are afraid to put it out there and talk about it but we weren’t. I think that might be a big reason people have connected to the songs that have been released so far. I feel like for anyone who’s sharing feelings of topics like that, it’s a little bit scary but I feel it's more therapeutic and cathartic to write about that stuff, to talk about that stuff and put it out there. You feel better about it. To know that other people can connect to that makes you feel even better. As scary as it at first, it eventually just pays off and turns out to be good in the end.”

“Why do you think people can relate to it?”

I shrugged. “I guess because our new album is pretty raw and honest. There’s a lot of topics people can relate to and I think it sounds pretty great, if I do say so myself. We’re pretty proud of it.”

Jackson leaned into his chair. “I would like to jump back to the haunting aspect of this album. Can you elaborate on what exactly is haunting you, if you don’t mind.”

We’d be here all day if I did and frankly, it wasn’t his or anyone who was watching business.

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

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

With a bright smile, I looked directly at the camera that had been pointed at us the entire time and winked.

“Oh yes, more than hopeful.”

Later on that night, when I was in the solace of the bathroom of the tour bus, I wore the skimpy red lace teddy I bought earlier. The necklace and bracelet glinted under the dim light as I extended my arm to take a variety of pictures; the sly smirk never leaving my lips.

With four different pictures attached, I quickly typed out a message to Noah right on the dot at 10 p.m.

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

Almost instantly, Noah texted back as I was swiftly changing into my pajamas for the evening. What I thought was one text became four right after the other.

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

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

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

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

Switching off the bathroom light, I walked across the narrow hallway to climb into my bunk and under the covers

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

By the time Noah responded, I was already in a peaceful, dark slumber.

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

READER

"Wait," Joe shook his head at us. "You guys do this after every tour?"

Malcolm nodded as he held the door open for all of us. "Every tour. It's become a Hollow Souls tradition."

As we all crowded into the small tattoo shop’s lobby, Joe's eyes brightened with the realization.

“Oh, so that's why you got the tattoo of the anime character on your ankle.”

"Yep, I smiled brightly. "Noah and I got them together on my birthday."

The buzzing was loud in the tattoo shop as I waved at the owner who had no problem staying open late for us tonight. We finished the tour strong tonight with a hype crowd and with the adrenaline still buzzing through us, we decided to get the tattoos as soon as we left the venue.

Joe shifted on his feet while running a hand through his hair. “You’re positive you want to get the Reaper album art tattooed?”

"This album helped me through some dark times in my life. I need to do it, especially with what happened last week. It’ll be a great way to remember a great tour and the new friend I made,” I answered while bumping his shoulder with mine.

After we all checked in and waited, Chase ruffled my hair. “It’s almost 10 p.m LA time, sweets.”

"Shit!" I cursed while quickly whipping out my phone from my pocket. "I can't believe I almost missed it!"

Me: I love you, Mochi. Last night of tour went off without a hitch. Currently getting our typical tattoos. I can’t wait to show you what I get.

I sat on the bed, exposing my left thigh to the artist after she laid down the stencil, and struck up a conversation with everyone as I waited for Noah to respond. Surprisingly, tonight it took him a long while to text back which made my mind wander to what he was up to. My heart didn’t ache and my stomach wasn’t filled with nerves which meant it wasn’t anything terrible.

After my risque picture I sent him the other day, we never had the chance to talk on the phone, but I knew that it still affected him because any chance he could, Noah would send me risque texts throughout the day.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed when my phone buzzed next to me.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait to see it, angel. Also, sorry it took me so long to respond. I may have taken Salem to the pet store to spoil him with a few things. I hope you know I plan on keeping him for a bit once you’re back home. Mal said you guys will be busy in the studio so no need for Salem to be home alone. I love you too, angel.

“I would ask who has you smiling like that but it’s pointless. There’s only one person who can do that,” Malcolm snorted while his artist wrapped up his tattoo.

I stuck out my tongue at him. “Noah told me he took Salem shopping.”

Chase rolled his eyes playfully. “And you say he’s not Salem’s dad yet.”

Before I could set my phone down, another message came through; one I read with a fast beating heart.

Nick R : February 23, 2022. 929 Angelus Street. Turn Right on Luna Ave. Overnight valet is already handled. No, Noah doesn’t know when to expect you. Don’t be late, Cinderella.

Nick R: The theme is red. I think you know why. Do with that what you will.

Oh shit, that was in just over two weeks. Which meant I needed a dress. And new shoes. A new hairstyle wouldn’t hurt either.

With a smile, I responded back to Nick.

Me: We will be there! Unlike Cinderella, I have no intention of losing my shoe and missing my Prince Charming.

Nick R: Oh good! We are merely the mice.

CHASE

I grumbled under my breath as I scrubbed out the fresh red paint out of the dining room carpet. How many times have I told her to put a damn drop down? Y/N’s lucky I know my way around cleaning supplies and know how to get a stain out.

Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth as he leaned against the wall, staring down at me as I continued to scrub on my hands and knees.

“I must say, I love this sight of you. On your knees.”

I snapped my eyes up at him. “Not fucking funny, Mal.”

“I think she’ll be really excited for what Noah has planned,” he noted.

“Oh she’s gonna lose it! In the best way,” I agreed while continuing to scrub.

“I think so too.” Malcolm placed a kiss on my lips before sauntering into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner. “How long do you think Y/N will be?”

“Not sure,” I ran a hand over my buzzed head then threw in the towel; literally.

“You know how she is when she’s let loose in the art supply store. I’d be shocked if she made it back before dinner,” I continued while hopping up on the counter.

Malcolm began setting out the variety of ingredients and I reached for my phone next to me.

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

Noah S: Already taken care of.

I showed Malcolm the text to which he smirked. “Did we expect anything less from him?”

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

Malcolm handed me a beer, one I took with a kiss of thanks, and slowly nursed it as Noah texted me back.

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

Me: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?

READER

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes locked on the things scattered all over the counter, I found myself dissociating into thoughts of earlier today when we were in the studio. We had one last song to record before we started the final touches but this song was the most important. It needed to be perfect.

I needed to be perfect.

Which is why

“Sweets you’ve gone over the verse we can meet in the middle at least ten times now. I think it’s good.”

Chase reassured me as I came out of the vocal booth with a scrunched up face. I did not like how my voice sounded which prompted me to do vocal take after vocal take.

I fell to the couch in between him and Malcolm. “I need this to be perfect. I hate how my voice is sounding. It can’t sound like this. It can’t.”

“It sounds amazing, Y/N! I promise,” Malcolm said.

“I just-,” I ran a hand through my long hair and groaned. “This is so important to me. I want him to know I’m here. And I’m not going to leave him.”

“Noah knows sweets, he knows. He’s so stoked for this record. You know he’ll love it.”

I tossed my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, exhausted with the length. I needed my neck to breathe. It felt as if I was suffocating under the weight of it.

“Fucking hormones,” I eventually chuckled while wiping tears from my eyes.

Malcolm gave me a weak smile while rubbing my back. “Any pain today?”

“A little but not much. It’s bearable.” I informed them.

Chase nodded while squeezing my knee. “Ok, if you need a break let us know. Don’t push yourself too much. You sound beautiful.”

Salem jumped on the counter, breaking me from my thoughts, and immediately I brought him up in my chest. His green eyes stared up at me in wonder and maybe a little bit of confusion with what he saw.

“Did you have fun with Noah?” I missed you so much,” I cooed.

Noah dropped him off while we were in the studio, us just missing each other by mere minutes.

My fingers scratched at Salem’s neck, now realizing the bright red collar and new tag.

“Oh, dad did in fact spoil you while I was gone. New collar, new tag, a bunch of new sushi toys. Not to mention the bed that can fit a 20 pound dog,” I chuckled.

My shoulders went rigid when I realized what I just said.

Dad.

I just called Noah Salem’s dad.

Swallowing thickly at the acceptance, I then looked at the new tag and felt my heart jump into my throat; heat spreading from the tips of my toes to my scalp.

Oh my heart.

Salem Sebastian-L/N.

And on the front of the tag were symbols I’d never seen before. “Huh, that's weird. What’s with the yin yang and eye symbol?”

Biting my lip, I set Salem down on the counter and picked up my phone instead, quickly dialing the number I had memorized so long ago.

Noah picked up after the second ring. “Hi, angel.”

I twirled a piece of fresh hair around my finger while leaning against the counter.

“Salem Sebastian-L/N huh?”

A quick beat of silence. “Yeah. Figured he needed a collar with his full name. I think he likes me, he was quite needy. Is that alright?”

“Definitely alright, mochi,” I smiled into the phone. “Do the symbols have any meaning?

“You’ll know soon, angel.”

“Okay then. Keep your secrets,” I groaned.

Noah’s infectious laughter made my stomach flip. “Will do, Frodo.”

“I think we are due for a Lord of the Rings marathon soon. You down?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hopeful for his answer.

“Always down, especially with you.”

I did my best to hide my excitement and was thankful Noah wasn’t here to see the way I jumped on the soles of my feet. “Wonderful.”

There was a long comfortable silence before his rich voice came through the speaker.

“I miss you. I love you.”

I played with my necklace. “I miss you too, Noah. I love you.”

“We’ll talk later?”

It was now him who had the hopeful tone.

“Always,” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“Okay.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight mochi”.

“Good night angel.”

As I hung up the phone, Chase and Malcolm both popped their heads into the bathroom. They had an approving smile on their face.

“Does it look bad?” I asked self-consciously.

Malcolm was the first to speak. “It looks really good, sweets. We’re proud of you.”

“New Era coming, huh?” Chase asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “Yeah I think so. I’m ready for it.”

“Well good. Because we are too,” he knocked on the wall before the two of them disappeared in their bedroom.

Hooking up the blow dryer, I began to dry my now darker and shorter hair, humming along to a song that had been stuck in my head all day.

“I was lost but now I’m found.”

Salem jumped up onto the closed toilet seat, watching me with bright eyes.

“We’re not perfect but we’re proud of who we are,” my voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom.

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

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jiminjamms · 10 months ago

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sex therapy :: 27. missed me?

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. therapist! toji. a very broken marriage (cont.). heavy angst but i am still not gege. infidelity/adultery. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.0k

notes: i hope everyone has been swell! sending hugs to every corner of the world, and i hope my writing can be your little break from reality. i have also added more chapters to the fic since i cannot wrap up the story in the next few chapters, ha. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

12:33 PM Toji called 12:33 PM He told me that my daughter collapsed in front of the twins? 12:34 PM And you got into a fight with her? 12:34 PM How did that happen? 12:34 PM Are you with her right now? 12:37 PM Answer me please, I need to make sure she’s fine (Missed Call) 12:38 PM Can you phone me back asap? Thx 12:38 PM I’m still in the office right now, wrapped up the weekly meeting with the operating committee 01:01 PM Hello? 01:01 PM Hey, are you there? (Missed Call) 01:12 PM Toji called again, he gave me a rundown, and I have to say… 01:12 PM I’m very, very disappointed in you

Perhaps the better word would be terrified, but Naoya was truly and genuinely astounded.

How the fuck did this happen?

Naoya could feel his breathing grow shallow and his body turn cold as he read through each message from his Chief Operating Officer once, twice, three times. For a while, he stared at his chat history, his shaking thumb hovering over the screen while his mind went blank.

What started as an argument between just you and him now had your father involved. Not only your father, though—but also Mai, Maki, and now Toji?! How bothersome. Of course, you had to drag everyone into this! The world always had to revolve around you.

Naoya could not think straight as his chauffeur sped him back to the office from Mari’s apartment later that day. Even when he returned to his CEO suite, he could hardly focus on his conversations with department heads or strategy discussions with the Board when Daisuke L/N’s messages haunted him like an omnipresent and malevolent spirit.

‘I’m very, very disappointed in you.’

Goddamnit!

Naoya did not miss how your father was absent from the afternoon’s meetings either (although he was not stupid enough to point that out aloud at work when Naoya himself was involved in why), nor did he miss his own father’s narrowed gaze which seemingly lingered on him longer than usual.

Oh goodness, did he know, too?

No, he couldn’t have. Otherwise, Naobito Zenin would have pulled him to the side by now and given him a long and stern lecture.

Yet, when the early evening arrived, Naoya ultimately decided he must talk to you directly.

Not because he actually cared about your well-being. (Ha, as if.) But because he needed to quash the possibility that the rest of his family, particularly his Board Chairman father, could get a whiff of his quarrel with you before all hell broke loose.

Moments like these warranted him to push aside his dignity before things could worsen.

His greatest fear would be for this recent argument to become a domino effect, as the downfall in this marriage would certainly place him in hot water.

With that, the current Zenin CEO then tapped his phone for your contact.

He needed to check up on you but ended up in voicemail.

So, he dialed once more.

Voicemail.

Again.

Why were you not picking up his calls?

You always found a way to irk him with how ungrateful you could be. Sure, there was no secret that you hated him. He would admit he was rude, belittling, and patronizing, treating you like a trophy to tote around, a doll to splay at his will, and a woman who needed to learn her place. He knew this and you knew this, because he exclusively tolerated this marriage as a means to accelerate his life.

Despite everything, he made sure his wife was well-fed and looked after, only for you to throw a tantrum and now get his extended family involved? Ludicrous. Why not focus on the good things about him? Could you not see how he had attempted to reach you at least thirty times throughout the day? (His ultimate reason admittedly was selfish, but that’s not the point.)

Anywho, since when did you think that ignoring him was acceptable?

In a frustrated fit, Naoya tossed his phone into his desk’s paper heap and huffed.

To set things straight, he had made many sacrifices in his life to get to his seat today, like how—back in the day—he had to watch TV anchors praise his older cousin while sipping champagne in the Maldives with…whatever girlfriend he had been with at the time. Life had been hard, but he at last had everything he should’ve been entitled to since birth. This position, this family, and this company belonged to him, regardless of what stupid fucking traditions dictated.

Unsurprisingly, when Naoya took the helm, everyone scrutinized him. Sure, he might have lacked in a few (or, more accurately, a lot of…) regards since he hadn’t been built into the position the way Toji Zenin had been, but having you as his wife made him look good in family conversations and public discourse.

He just needed a little more time to get people to trust him. Then, once all the pieces clicked into place, he resolved to toss this marriage to the side.

That ‘time,’ he hoped, would be soon.

For now, he just needed to keep you for as long as he sought fit.

Buzz.

Well, speak of the devil.

You must finally be returning his call.

The sky had gone dark in the windows behind him now, but Naoya practically leaped from his seat, scrambling and shoving papers aside to find his phone buried beneath several printed reports. He hated how his hands quivered as he held the device, not that he could control himself at this point, and he snapped the moment he swiped at his screen.

“Where the hell are you?” Naoya hissed, clipped and impatient.

He did not get an immediate response, which infuriated him even more since he taught you to acknowledge him on the phone.

But then, he learned why.

Because instead, Naoya heard a low and harrowing chuckle.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

The end to a marriage, for obvious reasons, would never be as glamorous as the start to one.

Many would dream for years about a wedding, but far fewer would think the same about a separation.

‘I'm going to file for a divorce.’

Admittedly, you were nervous when you announced the decision aloud in a crowded room for many eyes to see and ears to hear.

After all, even if you recognized the need for a change in your matrimony, you feared the consequences. You didn't want to cause your families to grow apart or your fathers to resent you. In addition, Naoya had been such a dominating fixture in your life these past few months, and he had led you to believe your days without him would be meaningless.

However, no longer could you set aside your emotions for his sake, nor would you expend extensive effort to salvage your marriage for other’s desires. Your sole purpose henceforth was to live a satisfied life without sacrificing more than what you already have for a husband who hardly look your way.

As a result, when you acknowledged divorce as the best possible solution to your demise, you were grateful for the emotional support and relieved faces from your worried father, the younger teenagers, and your trusted therapists.

Especially Toji.

“Come with me,” the very man ordered once you stepped into his apartment’s corridor with him.

Everyone else had been brought down to the apartment’s lower level after the earlier discussion in the master bedroom, with Megumi forced to take on the role as host in his father’s absence. The younger Fushiguro might be aloof and sometimes awkward, but word had gotten around that he was a good chef with his aunts nagging at him to prepare dinner.

“C’mon, don’t you want to show us what recipes you have learned on TikTok?”

“...No, not really. Can we just order KFC?”

The other conversation that drifted upward was between your father and the other three therapists, which made sense given that they all used to be colleagues back when Toji had been the CEO.

There was laughter, chatter, and the entire brouhaha brought ease to your nervous heart.

“Ladies first,” Toji said at some point after you had trailed behind him. He had taken you several meters ahead, opening the door to invite you inside. “This is my home office.”

You did not yet see the point in him doing a House Tour 2.0, but you walked in upon his gesture anyway. The hardwood floor beneath you felt warm, your body heating up slightly despite the coolness in the air.

Toji kept his office space as tidy as the rest of his abode. He had a white leather couch situated by the doorway and a workspace configuration to the side with desk lamps, an expensive chair, and a dual monitor setup.

Above his screens, Toji probably had fifteen accolades in cherry wood frames, each to showcase his achievements as countless magazines named him the best leader, the top executive, and the most promising innovator.

What caught your attention, however, was the wall beside his workstation.

There was a corkboard.

At first glance, the tacked-on magazine cutouts and photograph snippings seemed like a messy litter on the brown surface, but thin red strings—which made this look like a detective movie prop—connected one piece to another and suggested an order to the chaos.

“What is this?” you asked, a question not directed to anyone in particular as you neared the corkboard without waiting for Toji’s permission.

Upon closer distance, the vague letterings and images became clear.

The newspaper cover story fastened at the very center read in big bold print: “Zenin Corporation Announces New CEO.”

As the realization dawned that this was what Toji meant to show you, the man’s measured footsteps came up from behind you. He stopped at your side, watching how you inspected each element on the corkboard as though his room was your laboratory and he was your professor.

“The World Economic Forum estimates that more than 5% of global GDP is lost to corruption around the world each year,” he began, crossing his thick arms firmly over his chest. “Many articles you see here had been published online only to be taken down not even a few hours later. I suspect that Naoya this year alone has spent hundreds of thousands, if not millions, bribing the Japanese media to curate the public image he needs.” He then pointed around. “Look for yourself.”

You would have called Toji out for being a total creep if the objective of this collection had not been obvious. With scarlet threads weaving together to reveal an elaborate web of deceit, Toji had been curating an exposé.

There was one photo from your wedding day. Standing at the altar with Naoya, you looked so happy and blissful back then, the vibrant bouquet in your hands a colorful contrast against the pristine white of your Vera Wang wedding gown, your face radiant with a smile oblivious to the heartache that would come.

This publication, you have seen before.

What you did not recognize, however, were the articles dated from nearly a year ago, well before your wedding day, with even more printed five months ago, two months ago, one week ago…

…and reading the titles made you feel sick.

Japanese Hotshot Shares Intimate Kisses with Rumored Girlfriend Photos Reveal Recently Married Executive’s Secret Affair? Exclusive: Zenin Corporation CEO Spotted in Mexico with Alleged Lover

The accompanying pictures had the same two subjects in plain clothes and baseball caps, showing off little skin to reveal their identities to prying busybodies. Yet, upon an immediate glance, you recognized Naoya Zenin as the taller figure and assumed his very precious ladyfriend must be the other.

Photographers had snapped the two embracing each other in a cab’s backseat, sharing a secret kiss after a luxury mall date, and holding hands while stepping into a private plane.

All to say, you were revolted.

The more you mulled on these printouts, the more you could feel visceral disgust build in your chest.

To think you once contemplated saving a marriage with a man like that. Whatever his plan was for him and this woman, did he intend to make you a side character to their romance until the day you would die?

Your gaze darted around, and the photo with the most unobstructed view of their faces placed you on pause.

All of a sudden, a hard lump formed in your throat because, Holy shit, she’s…stunning.

Seeing the woman who your husband had had his sights on immediately unlocked a whole new level of insecurities within you.

No wonder Naoya could not bring himself to be married to you when he had her.

The woman was exquisite, to say the least. Despite the picture’s poor quality, you noticed her bright elegant face, plump pink lips, and long full lashes—precisely the characteristics that would turn heads in a crowded room. In fact, you secretly wished that you possessed her overflowing pulchritude as well.

If she was an angel from your point of view, she must also be in Naoya’s eyes all the more.

You gingerly drew a circle around her with a finger.

“Is she his mistress?”

Why did you even ask that? You already knew the answer. But, you wanted to confirm the facts rather than satisfy your curiosity.

Meanwhile, Toji ran his index finger very slowly over his lower lip.

He answered a while later.

“Yes.” As you had expected. Then, he added, “But she’s also my ex-wife.”

What—

Your jaw dropped to the trenches.

If you thought tonight had been filled with enough revelations, this one really sealed the deal.

His…ex-wife?!

Unlike the man before you, hiding your deepest emotions had never been your forte. Instead, you had gone stiff as your mind reeled in shock.

“She’s…Tsumiki’s mom,” you said quietly at the realization.

Yes, you have heard a lot about her. However, to make the connection between the lady in the picture and the woman who owned currently Naoya’s (and previously Toji’s) devotion stirred awake a thousand emotions.

Anger. Bitterness. Resentment.

Megumi had told you plenty about her before.

‘Treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister.’

Her pretty face could only go so far in disguising her dark heart.

With this understanding, you finally grasped Toji’s bitterness when he first met you. How fickle fate had been to him. Comical, even! For his younger cousin to take his succession rights to the clan, his executive position in the company, and—to top everything off—his wife from his family. Only for you (of all eight billion people in the world) to show up at Toji Fushiguro’s office asking for sex therapy?

Now, you comprehended why Toji and Naoya despised each other.

In addition, you understood why Toji and his colleagues had been suspicious of you. Trust takes time to build yet a moment to shatter, and all of them have had this trust broken before. By Naoya, yes.

But also, by her.

“What’s her name?” you had to ask, ignoring the searing ache in your heart.

Your therapist, on the other hand, tried to play off his vexation by shoving his hands into his front pockets.

“Mari,” and also, “She still uses my last name.”

Wow.

The audacity that some people in the world have.

“Here let me help.”

“Hm?”

At first, you did not quite get what Toji was referring to until he started tearing the magazine photos and newspaper stories.

Wordlessly, you gawked at him, both in confusion and astonishment.

“Why—”

Before you could complete the thought, Toji had placed everything into a neat stack and thrust the pile into your hands. “There,” he said with finality. “If you are to file for a divorce, take these to Naoya. See what the bastard has to say. Staying with him any longer would be a fatal flaw.”

Toji had never seen a single interaction between you and his cousin in person, yet he could confidently say your husband was the hamartia in your life. Perhaps the signs had always been obvious. Or perhaps, his recent experience in a toxic marriage allowed Toji to notice the red flags in yours from miles away.

“If you give him too much time, he’ll come up with his offenses,” he went on. “We don’t need to outfight him, though. We simply need to outthink him.”

Something about Toji’s emerald eyes gleamed in a way you had not seen before.

It was a different side to him, one where he planned and strategized, a flickering core of the businessman he used to be.

“Hi.”

You and Toji froze at the sound.

Megumi’s voice had startled you two as the boy peered in from the hallway, waving a phone in his hand—your phone. “Sorry to interrupt but, uh, he called again.”

Interestingly enough, Megumi did not need to explicitly mention a name for you all to know who he referred to. As your screen flickered on, you noticed the numerous missed calls and text messages that had flooded your notifications, all from one particular culprit, no doubt.

Instead of embarrassment, your body surged with aggravation at how your husband suddenly seemed desperate to know your whereabouts.

So now he cared, huh?

Before you could retrace your steps towards the door, however, Toji had already done so. He retrieved the device from his son’s hands and started dialing a number from your phone.

You tried to stop him. “Hey, what are you—”

But Toji dismissed you, pressing your phone to his ear as the call began to ring, and his lips curled into a wicked grin when the other line must have picked up.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I am excited to show the interaction between Toji and Naoya—I have been thinking about their conversation for a long time! This chapter is less of a whirlwind and more of a setup for the rest to come. Thank you for your support!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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neiptune · 2 years ago

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aot boys x guilty pleasures

a/n: this is me being self indulgent and having a lil fun so forgive the shitposting but also feedback is always appreciated mwah

eren loves the shit out of nature documentaries you'll leave him alone one saturday night and you'll come back to find him sprawled on the couch watching life of mammals or some shit on netflix lmao you'd be on a date and he'd get suddenly excited enough to hit you with random facts like “btw did you know that the average blood pressure of a giraffe is around 300/190?” he'd literally barge in rooms with a “babe omg hummingbirds are like the only birds that can fly backwards” and you'd just be sitting on the toilet with a very unimpressed look but he's cute 12/10 would make a good park ranger or whatever

armin is lowkey obsessed with youtubers like he legitimaly sits down and watches hours on end of unboxing/reaction videos or travel vlogs jfc and it's always the dumb stuff ya know like person x unboxing the same phone in 10 different colors or person y reacting to drake's new single and THAT controversial lyric. it's exhausting really he'd be in bed at 3am still going through chrissy's 27 min travel vlog about some bali vacation gone wrong and don't even get me started on drama and internal feuds or breakups oh my god he has a whole playlist of breaking my silence videos on youtube to keep track of who's said what so he can pick the best side

you've introduced jean to the world of fandoms and fanfiction and at first he was all like nah that's too weird but now he has his own ao3 account and eats the weirdest most hilarious shit up, will also use acquired terms in the wrongest way like you'd be watching bridgerton together and he'd suddenly nod to himself with a OOOO TRIGGER WARNING THEY BOUT TO FUCK lmao he's obsessed tbh his twitter is filled with commentary on random chapters he's screenshot and that I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP titanic gif posted over and over again like no honey you will not we've moved past that 10 years ago

oh god connie is such a chronic playlist creator he'd have one for EVERYTHING and he genuinely spends hours selecting the perfect most appropriate songs and titles for each one, you best believe before you first started dating he's made one for you called “i like you idgaf about your boyfriend” which came with a weird ass mix of sweet stuff like just the way you are by bruno mars and cash shit by megan thee stallion lmaooo he's so random he thinks he's good at it too and you don't have the heart to tell him that “get down dirty bedroom sexy lapdance music” ain't a good title. it's kinda attractive that he's not a music snob tho like he'd be blasting country music classics while cooking, rap mixtapes when he's taking a shower or full on broadway showtunes when driving, he also has a cute voice that cracks on higher notes but it secretly turns you on how deep in the moment he is while screaming to defying gravity in the car

levi gets a weird kick out of serial killer documentaries or real footage of their interviews/trials, also listens to A LOT of true crime podcasts and TAKES NOTES about the most interesting cases to check if he'd be able to solve the unsolved ones and he'd always test you as well? you'd be reading a book in bed and he'd plop next to you with a dead serious look on his face asking shit like “would you help some random guy with a cast on his arm carry his bags?” 🤨 out of the blue like ?????? baby that's kinda weird can you not but it's really just him trying to flex his big big brain thank fuck he's not an actual cop he'd be insufferable (and way less hot)

to absolutely no one's surprise reiner's guilty pleasure has to do with you, the man's all about you (and hockey), you've asked him to take a bath with you once and now not a single motherfucking week goes by without him looking at you big big puppy eyes asking “bath???” most evenings after work. it doesn't even have to lead to anything he's just content basking in warm water and bubbles with you in his lap, he gets to massage shampoo into your scalp if you want to wash your hair and is now a pro at creating the perfect atmosphere with oils and dimmed lights and omg don't even get me started on candles, he's memorized your favorite scents and now also has his own preferences, catch him walking around a yankee candle store at least twice a month, girls working there ask this big scary grumpy guy if he needs help and he'd reply with the softest most polite & specific hi hello yes actually i need to stock up on sparkling cinnamon and snow globe wonderland tyvm

porco 100% checks his naked self out in the mirror lmaooo i know this shouldn't count as something people wouldn't believe he'd do but it's kinda a guilty pleasure i guess??? he finds putting clothes on a lil depressing and knows he's hot. sometimes you'd catch him doing that after showering and the man would be so fucking thirsty for compliments cause what is he supposed to do with muscles and abs and prominent biceps if you won't drool over them a little? he's annoying & also gets soooo whiny if you don't indulge him like :( do you not think your dashing boyfriend is cute :( while flexing, also always tries to convince you to take your clothes off as well for “inspection purposes” to which you simply flick his forehead lol whether you end up pressed against that very mirror 10 minutes later it's between you and him xoxo

#aot #eren yeager headcanons #eren x reader #armin arlert headcanons #armin x reader #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean x reader #connie springer headcanons #connie x reader #reiner braun headcanons #reiner x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #levi x reader #porco galliard headcanons #porco x reader

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 11 months ago

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Pairing(s):Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Witch!OC

Warnings: this will be the second to last chapter of this series, some spanish (i know a little but thanks to being extremely white washed i still had to go to google translate 🙃), really sorry this took so long :(, i'll try to get the last part out in a timely manner but no promises

Words: 3842

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 40(series finale)

Screams coming from Sam's home has your paws picking up speed and Evita's hands tightening in your fur so that she could hold on. The others were at your heels, uneasiness clouding the pack telepathy and only thinking of the worse. Surely, today couldn't get any worse, right?

Once in the backyard, no one cares that you three wolves are stark naked. Evita didn't bat an eye having grown accustomed to the pack's frequent nudity.

Nearly ripping the backdoor off it's hinges, all of you crowd into the kitchen and rush through to the living room where Bella and Nadege are screaming, but not in pain in horror. Their outburst is one of pure delight when you catch the sight of a perfectly made ward clutched in Bella's hand.

Tension flees from you and you too pull Evita forward as both of you squeal in delight.

"You did it!!" Sliding onto your knees in front of her, you beckon for Bella to show you the ward. Evita's curls bounce with excitement as she says something in Spanish to Nadege.

Bella's eyes are large and there's the telltale sign of glossy tears that are on the brink of following over her bottom lashes. You'd never seen her smile that wide. Her hands are trembling when she hands it over to you for inspection.

"All the wards are finished." Evita gleefully announces to the others in the room that had gone unnoticed in the moment.

Seth, gleaming over Nadege's shoulder, rises to his full height to address Jacob. "Sam?"

Difficult to pull his attention away from Bella's ward, he reluctantly looks up at Seth and Emily who lingered near the hallway. "He'll be at the Cullens for a while. They have Irina there under some sort of sleeping spell."

You catch the younger wolves grumble about missing it but one silencing glare from Leah, they settle down and merely fold their arms. Quil and Embry, sitting next to them, are grateful that it's not them for once on the receiving end of Leah's deadly gaze.

"We need to disperse these wards as soon as possible." Evita says while searching through her backpack for a rolled up piece of printer paper. Inked on it was a map of the Forks-LaPush area. "They don't have to be placed at these exact coordinates. Just as long as they're in the general area."

"I'll go get the other wards." Emily nods and retreats to the bedroom she shared with Sam, deemed the most secure place in the house.

Back and laying out the rest of the wards on the coffee table, there's the question of dividing the pack into groups to scatter them in their appropriate locations.

And much to your shock, their eyes all turned to you.

It takes you a moment to realize everyone was staring at you. You were still congratulating Bella while the others spoke.

When you find their attention solely on you, it causes your face to warm. "What?"

"Well. . . since the older members of the pack are at the Cullens. . ." Jacob takes the lead since no one else was saying anything. "And you and Sam have been spending a lot more time together-"

"You're the closest thing to an alpha we have at the moment." Leah finishes for Jacob since he appeared to be struggling with an explanation.

Nadege and Evita possess toothy grins as they glance from you to your packmates.

"Me?" Voice squeaking, you feel your palms grow clammy.

Embry's warm eyes happens to calm your nerves as he gives you an encouraging grin. "Well, alpha?"

Taking a deep breath, you nod your head. "Okay."

Ideally you'd want to wait for the sky to darken a little more to better hide the massive wolves moving through the woods (and even having to cross a few public streets) to get to their given pinpoints.

You and Evita stay behind as you watch the other duos disappear in the weaving web of the forest trees. Brady and Embry to one direction, Quil and Colin, Seth and Leah; the only pairing you questioned slightly was Bella and Jacob. Perhaps they could use this time to make up as well (not like you were one to talk. you had yet to even mention what happened to him). Nadege would take the last one and shift to her bird body. She much preferred an aerial view opposed to you and your packmates navigating by scent and memory.

Phasing back to your superior wolf form, Evita easily swings herself onto your back. Her fingers slightly pull at your fur as she makes sure to get a good grip. The first time she'd been a passenger on you, she'd fallen without much help staying on you. Learning her lesson, she now used your fur as handlebars, being as gentle as she could while also affirming that she would not be flying off.

You and Evita would be the group to go the furthest out. You'd have to travel to the border of where Forks meets the Elk Creek Conservation Area. Doing your best to keep away from the public eye and keeping to the wilderness.

Trying not to stumble, you realize you're impatient to get this whole thing over and done with. No more of the black overbearing cloud that were the Volturi looming over your heads. Irina was subdued. Victoria was long gone. The Volturi were your only obstacle left. And then. . .

You might be able to have a chance to finally breathe and enjoy your budding relationship with Edward. Live a life of a young lady in love. Was that too much to ask for?

Awkward was not quite the word Jacob would have chosen. Tense, perhaps cringe inducing were the more appropriate terms. Instead of shapeshifting like the rest of his pack, he chose to use his motorcycle and have Bella on the back of his seat. Her hands cling onto the front of his shirt from behind. Jacob had noticed the lack of strength as she gripped onto the fabric. He'd overheard from Dieufel how using magic could drain one's energy. Especially those who are just beginning in the practice. Making that ward must have taken a lot out of her.

Irina had destroyed much of his garage including his beloved Volkswagen. But his motorbike survived.

They drove in silence to the northern most part of Forks.

Actually, not complete silence. Thanks to the slight auditory enhancement he possessed with his human body, Jacob could hear the rapid fluttering of the cardiac muscle that resides in her chest. Swore he could even feel it too against his back as Bella clung to him.

While he felt incensed for what (y/n) had down in spilling the beans, he knew he'd omitted the truth to Bella and ultimately was the cause for her hurt feelings. He'd wanted to apologize before hoping onto his bike, but time was crucial more than ever.

"This should be good enough." Jacob says once the engine of his bike is silenced.

Bella pulls off her helmet and puts it in the spot behind Jacob. She looks around at the barren area where they'd stopped at. Nadege instructed her that all Bella was required to do now was simply dig a small hole and bury the ward. The witch doubted the Volturi would even be aware of what the ward was if they came across it. Better safe than sorry.

From the small backpack, Bella grabs the two necessary items for their mission: the ward and a small handheld spade.

She couldn't mess this up.

She wouldn't mess this up.

Her fingers have a stranglehold on the items in each of her hands. Jacob watches her curiously while scanning his eyes around their surroundings every so often.

Dirt flies as she makes a hole deep enough to properly cradle the stone smooth ward. Covering it back up, she flattens the earth back into proper alignment to not draw attention to what is buried underneath.

"Done." Her smile is hopeful when she walks back to Jacob. Her helmet is almost on her head before Jacob interrupts her.

"Wait, Bella. . ."

Hesitantly, Bella lowers her arms along with the helmet and arches a slim brow up.

"I'm sorry about what happened the last time we hung out. I'm sorry about a lot of things, actually. I should have at least told you about the imprinting. But, I was in denial about it. I didn't want it to be on someone I didn't know. I always hoped that you would somehow be my imprintee." Jacob chews on his bottom lip. "You didn't deserve that though. You're my friend. Probably one of my best friends but don't tell the others."

"I just wished you would've let me be there for you like you've always been there for me, Jake. I can't imagine what you were going through all that time. Didn't understand why you were acting like an-"

"Asshole?"

"Yes."

Both laugh.

"I forgive you." Bella says with a smile still on her face. "How are you feeling about the imprinting now? Still in denial?"

That has his expression sobering up. "Can't really deny it anymore. Plus I feel better knowing that Leah's imprinted on that Dieufel dude."

"Wait- really?"

Jacob nods. "Yup. Neither Dieufel or Evita know about it. Sam instructed the pack not to let the witches know of the imprinting until after this ordeal with the Voltur is finished with."

Their gaze lingers back to their buried treasure. Bella encouragingly tells him "Well, that day may be sooner than you thought. If she's worth the wait, which I think she is, then you just have to bear through it."

Bella holds his hand. it wasn't even that long ago where this kind of contact would have him getting butterflies in his stomach. Now though he sees her as a sister.

That's when he sees the exhaustion on her face. "You tired?"

"Magic, as I am now learning, is a lot more energy draining than I imagined." With the weariness was contentment though. She glowed thinking of all that cramming paid off. "This makes me feel like i can right some of the mistakes that have come from my involvement with Edward"

"Want me to drop you off on the way back?" Offers Jacob.

She declines. "No. I want to see this thing through."

"Quit moping." Leah scolds him through pack telepathy.

The skin of Seth's muzzle furls into an ugly snarl that shows his front teeth. "I'm NOT moping. Why didn't you tell me you imprinted? I wouldn't have judged you for it or anything! I'm your brother-"

She turns to snap her jaws at him. The pouch that hung around her thick neck swings from the sharp movement. There lay their ward that they are to bury. "I didn't want ANYONE to know. I wished it had never happened!"

Seth flinches away, ears flattening against his head and tail moving between his legs.

Taking her temper down a few notches when she feels the hurt radiating from him, Leah internally sighs. She shouldn't be picking fights, especially not with the pack. Enough fighting will be ahead. There shouldn't be any interpersonal fighting within the pack.

She loved her brother and since losing their father, she didn't want to lose anyone else in her small family.

They begin walking again though Leah noticed Seth was further behind.

"I was scared, Seth. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. I panicked. . ." Hating admitting that she felt fear, Seth acknowledged her apology as genuine.

Quiet passes for a few minutes until Leah could feel Seth beside her once more; his paws emitting gentle pitter patters over small twigs and crunchy leaves. "No. . . it's alright. . . from (y/n) and Jacob. . . imprinting doesn't seem like a good thing."

"Hopefully when you imprint it won't be as complicated." Leah adds with a small lilt to her thoughts that makes it sound like she's smiling.

Doubt crept in. He hadn't seen anyone positively impacted by their imprinting thus far. Even Sam and Emily started on a rocky start. Imprinting became something terrifying to the younger wolves. He'd spoken with Brady and Colin, neither happy or looking forward to finding their soulmate. In fact they continuously hoped that it would never happen to them. Being a wolf was hard enough.

To change the subject, Seth goes about finding an appropriate dig spot when they reach their destination. His long claws are useful pulling up dirt.

Leah's back in her human skin, pulling at the chord around her neck to open the pouch. She holds the stone in her hand. Warm to the touch. Waiting for Seth to finish, her attention is completely enraptured by the small rock that would ultimately save so many lives. They were putting all their faith in this thing.

She heaves a heavy sigh, placing the stone into the ground, murmuring a silent pray she wasn't sure anyone would hear.

"Do you think anyone else from the pack will imprint soon?" Brady once again asks Embry and he has to refrain from groaning. The leather pouch strung around his neck bobs as he merely shakes his head to emote his ire. "I wish I had imprinted on Nadege. She's so hot."

If he were in his human body, Embry certainly would have rolled his eyes. "Focus Brady. This is important and we can't fuck it up."

The younger wolf whines. "I know it's important. I just want to lighten the mood. Everything has been so. . . life or death lately."

Embry felt for Brady. He really did. Poor kid was the youngest in the pack. Not even fifteen yet. Brady wasn't allowed to act like a kid his age normally will thanks to this whole werewolf shit.

Reading his thoughts, Brady flicks an ash brown furred ear. "I'd rather be a wolf then some boring teenager."

"You think that for now." It had been all fun and games for Embry too until (y/n) imprinted on Edward.

Thoughts are interrupted by the loud screeching of a bird from overhead. Brady's body lowers to the ground, lips parted in a snarl as his eyes shoot upwards. Embry too digs his nails into the ground, preparing for any kind of air assault that may come their way. This bird didn't sound like any they'd encountered in the wild before.

Familiar colored feathers flurry around in a storm when a giant falcon dives to the ground. Nadege is flushed, panic striking her eyes. "Bury the ward and get out of here. I just saw two cloaked figures traveling down the mountainside. They must be your Volturi."

She returns to her hawk form, allowing the boys to pick up speed and hurry up all while shooting the message down the pack telepathy.

"Stay calm you guys." They can hear Leah's voice. "Just get it down and get out of there. Like Nadege said."

"Evita said once the last ward is in place, the entire thing will activate." (y/n) says. Since Embry has known the girl since childhood, he picked up on the nervous tremor of her thoughts. She was rightfully worried about them encountering members of the Volturi so soon. "We've already buried our's. Evita got a text from Bella that they've buried their's as well."

"Our's is buried too." Quil replies.

Nadege follows them from the sky, partially leading them to the area they were supposed to be in.

"Maybe if Brady hadn't been mooning over Nadege-"

"Shut up Colin!"

"Both of you shut up!" Leah and (y/n) command in unison.

Phasing, Embry yanks open the pouch hastily while Brady starts to dig a hole with his giant paws.

Another ear splitting cry from the treetops, cutting through the forest. Nadege. The Volturi were even closer, uncomfortably so. Her bird body lands on a branch, sharp talons piercing the bark for support. Feathers ruffled in agitation.

Kicking dirt back into the hole, Embry successfully grins. "Done!" He pivots to Brady. "Lets get the hell out of here!"

Brady wasn't looking at Embry though. Frozen to the spot and fur spiked up, slowly his snout furls into a snarl. Nadege releases a high-pitched whistle, sharp and penetrating scream.

"So, these are the wolves Irina told us about."

Without his heightened wolf sense, their scent had passed by him. Embry feels sweat prickling at the nape of his neck despite the chill in the air.

"Turn around, boy."

A throaty growl rumbles from Brady who dared to take a step closer to Embry. Embry simply tried to shoot him a look that hopefully read 'stay where you are' or 'don't move'.

He does so, knowing the rest of the pack was on their way. And that the wards were in position. To test it, all the Volturi had to do was try and pass over it to get to Embry and Brady.

Embry holds his breath, staring into two pairs of blood red eyes. Eery and reminding Embry of the newborns they'd faced off with two weeks prior.

One of them chuckles. "He's nothing but a mere child. The other also seems like just a pup himself."

They creep closer and Embry has to resist glancing down at the ground at the fresh pile of dirt that hid the ward. Instead he waits while his heart is ramming against sternum, threatening to break free from it's confines. These two. . . they felt different from the newborns he'd faced off against.

"Where are the others in your pack?" The taller of the two cock their head to the side. His foot steps over the threshold, a few inches away from Embry. Immediately there's a sizzling sound before the Volturi guard shoots back as if electrically shocked. He hisses in pain, scarlet eyes glaring at Embry. His companion eyes him questioningly before Nadege swoops from her perch and in another flurry of feathers switches back to her human form to protectively stand next to Embry.

He hisses "A witch. More unnatural creatures."

Recovering from his pain, the other one bares his teeth. "Aro will be pleased to know about this. He'll enjoy wiping all of you off the face of the earth."

"I'd like to see him try." Nadege fiercely barks back. Her height matched that of the taller Volturi member. She was a commanding beauty who wouldn't back down. Not when it meant the lives of those she had befriended. "You Volturi are ignorant of the world around you. If you truly aim to rid the world of other beings like us, you'll never achieve it."

That statement outrages the vampires.

Not more than the thundering of large paws that makes the earth tremble. Back up had finally arrived.

A horde of snapping jaws and snarling faces. Bella is seated atop of Jacob's russet brown wolf while Evita is atop of (y/n)'s back. The human girls glare at the ruby eyed vampires. Bella recalling their identities with a scowl.

"Miss Swan."

"Demetri." Her pale lips spit out. Fingers curl tighter into Jacob's fur.

Demetri's companion hisses. "Traitor. You have gone back on your word."

"The situation has changed."

Edward, flanked by a newly returned Carlisle and Jasper, emerge from the trees on the side of the Volturi guards.

"Explain this heresy." Demetri turns to them while Felix keeps his wicked gaze on the wolves. "Why have you allied yourselves with these beasts? Not telling the Volturi of their existence would be considered the highest of crimes."

"Like Edward said, the situation has changed. They helped us fight Victoria's newborn army. They are not the werewolves which the Volturi exterminated throughout Europe centuries ago." Carlisle simply explains with that calm demeanor of his. Perhaps Jasper was using his ability on their side to soothe the tempers of Demetri and Felix as the rigidness of their posture slackened.

"One of those wolves just so happens to be my mate too." Edward proudly announces which only sends disgust through Demetri and Felix.

Felix laughs bitterly "So you traded in a human for a mongrel?"

The wolves growl in indignation for their packmate. (y/n) simply flicks an ear, uncaring for what they thought.

"Easy there." warned Carlisle. "Right now you're trespassing on their territory. I would change the tone if I were you. If you'll just follow us back to our house-"

"What and talk it over a nice cup of tea?" Demetri lightly mocked. "No, this can't be resolved that simply."

"Demetri, please-"

"You've aligned yourself with these savage animals. Not just them, but mortals who possess the powers of a supernatural. They have no place in our world."

"Que hombre tan tanto. (What a stupid man)"

Evita's eyes round at the two newcomers entering the forest. A fearful tremor in her voice. "Mama?"

As if taking a leisure forest stroll, Alice and an older woman stand side by side. Alice looking so petite and pale compared to her companion whose dark, wild curls had strands of silver that would catch on the light. A burgundy shawl is wrapped around her shoulders, covering the cream colored blouse she wore.

Evita's mother scowls at her daughter on the other side of the ward's protective embrace. "Evita, estas en un gran problema. ¿Aquí es donde has estado? (Evita, you're in big trouble. This is where you've been?)" Her eyes, while being the same lovely color as Evita's, had the tell tale signs of aging. Also much like Evita when the pack first met her, there's that tangy scent of magic that wafts through the air that clung to the older woman.

At the slight threatening tone in her voice, Evita pales.

Switching from Spanish to English, Annalisse huffs and turns to address Demetri and Felix. "You two feel like big men? Threatening children?" They open their mouths like their about to protest, but Annalisse silences them with a slash of her hand. Whether that was due to magic or just her intimidating air would be a mystery. Either way it did the trick.

Almost comedic how they shrank away from her as she struts straight up to them despite Alice and the other three Cullen males trying to stop her. This woman was fearless and had the pack staring at her in admiration. Witches were made of much stronger stuff than the regular human. Even Nadege almost leapt into action once the Volturi duo arrived.

"If you want war, the only losers in it would be the Volturi. Only a handful of your kind possess special abilities. Unlike us. You think immortality will save you? That your massive coven will be enough? You're outnumbered even now."

A few quiet seconds pass, Demetri and Felix exchanged glances, a hint of uncertainty flickering in their eyes. They were used to asserting dominance, but this woman exuded a power they hadn't anticipated. Reluctantly, Demetri spoke up, his tone begrudging. "Carlisle, show the way."

Please let me know what you guys would like to see in the final chapter :) I'm interested to hear how you want things to end.

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softstarlite · 1 year ago

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The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 1

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javier is 40 and reader is 27), mentions of death.

Rating: +18 (Not explicit)

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

A/N: sorry guys that this one is kind of short, I promise that it is because is the first chapter that I write after almost 4 years without writing anything at all and because I have a terrible big cold bullying me. But I promise that future chapters will be much longer, I hope this one gets you hook up (please remember that English is not my first language) :-))

Divider by @saradika

Javier didn't though he would be waking up in his old bed in his parents house ever again, for him there were only two options, dying on the field in Colombia or working on the DEA until he would be too old and they would force him to retire from the field and he would just live the rest of his days in Miami to be close with the only people he would have then, Steve and Connie.

After everything that happened with the Cali Cartel, Los Pepes and the government of Colombia, the DEA “invited” him into retirement, for a bit he thought about moving to Miami but he couldn't bear thinking about turning his back to his pops again, even more now that he was alone in that big ranch.

“Fuck…” he rises up from the old bed, his back protesting. He makes his way into the kitchen, where his dad is already dressed up and drinking a cup of coffee.

“I made a pot, mijo” Chucho says, signaling with his head towards the coffee maker and sipping.

“Gracias, pa” after two weeks of the same routine, waking up, drinking at least one cup of coffee, getting dressed and spending the day keeping himself busy around the ranch so he wouldn't have to even think, Javi was getting tired of what his life looked like now. He loved his pops with all his heart but between the absence of his mom that was their string of unity and the many years that they've had spend away from each other, he felt like there was always a tension when they were together.

“Mijo, would you mind going into town today to pick a few things up for me?” his dad says while getting up from the kitchen table and putting the empty mug in the sink.

“Sure, pops. Just make me a list and i'll go after feeding the cattle”

Taking the keys out of the ignition and making your way across the parking lot to the little store, your head, more specifically your forehead, collapses with a hard thing.

“ Ouch” you rub your forehead while looking at where your purse has landed.

“Uh, fuck” you hear a masculine but almost familiar voice say from above you. Your gaze comes up to be met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes that you have for sure seen before.

“Ja-Javi?” you say with wide eyes and mouth agape. He mumbles your name like a question, like he can't believe what he's seeing, was it truly you? you looked so… so different, so grown up…

“So it's true, you really are back, eh?” you can feel the corners of your mouth rise a little while you say it.

“Been for two weeks…” his eyes can't help but to roam your body “you… look different…” he says more to himself than you.

“Well, that's what more than a decade does to someone” you chuckle.

“It really has been that long? Mierda…” he runs a hand through his hair.

You suddenly realize that your purse it's still on the floor, so you pick it up. For a few seconds an awkward silence floats between you too, in which you both just stare at each other.

You then realize something, “espera, you´ve been back for two weeks and you haven't been to my mama´s house? She's going to kill you when she finds out, you know it right?” you nervously rub your hands together in front of you.

“Shit, you´re right…” he closes his eyes tightly, “with helping my pops getting the ranch in a better shape and all, i forgot about going to Maria´s…”

“Hey, I'm sure if you explain it to her, she'll understand it. You´ve always been her favorite anyways” you give him a reassuring smile that he reciprocates with another, but somehow it looks like it almost pains him to do so, like he has not given a real one for way too long.

Javier chuckles, “well, after so many years away and only picking up like three of her phone calls a year, i wouldn't bet on been her favorite anymore”

“Yeah… I don't think that could ever be possible. And if the amount of times she talks about his Javiercito are indicating of it, you definitely are on top of the list still” you don't take your eyes off of his, you had almost forgotten how warm they can be and now it was almost impossible to pull yourself away from that warmth.

He changes the subject, still feeling guilty about how much he felt he had abandoned his parents in one of their hardest times in life and also the woman he felt that was like a second mother to him.

María, your mom, was his mom's best friend, they had been since high school. His parents became parents at a very early age, most people in Laredo gave them side eyes and their back for a long time, but your mom never did, she was there even when Alma Peña discovered that she was indeed pregnant and not just sick.

She was even the third person to ever hold him, after his own parents.

Your parents didn't have you until they were 30, so Javier was just like a first born child for your mom for 13 years until she had you.

Alma and Chucho did try to have more children but life had a weird sense of humor and after giving them a son they weren't looking for at such a young age, it decided to not give them anymore children. So when Maria had you, Alma Peña held you in her arms even before your father did and she loved you like her little girl until her last breath.

“How old are you now? You were only like 12 when I left” he shifts from one leg to the other.

“I was actually 15,” you chuckle “don't worry, didn't expect you to remember, you were too busy all the time to even notice me” you say a little fast, trying to hide that the fact hurted you every time you thought about it. “I'm 27 now” you give him a tight smile.

“Almost the age I was when I left. Wow, time really has passed, eh?” he says with an air of sadness in his eyes.

“Yeah, that happens” you feel an awkward tension growing between you so you change the subject fast “so… you're just working on the ranch now?”

“Yeah… pops needs the help anyway, he's getting old. I would rather not see him deal with the ranch chores by himself anymore” he looks at the ground of the parking lot for a brief moment then his gaze rises up again towards you “what are you doing now that you´re not in high school anymore?” he asks you with a tiny smirk.

“I changed one school for another,” you giggle “I went to college to get a teaching degree and after working in Boston for a few years, when my dad got sick, i moved back home to help ma with him before he died, then i just stayed for her and your dad to be honest. I'm working at the elementary school now” when you mention your dad, your face can't help but make a tight lip expression, you didn't have a good relationship with him, and you couldn´´t understand why your mom didn't leave his ass for so many years. But your relationship with your mom was pretty good considering the circumstances.

“Sorry about him by the way, even if you guys had a rocky relationship” he gives you a worried look, like he wanted to ask a million questions about how you felt back then and feel now about it, but they never leave his mind. “Your mom told me about it in one of her calls…”

“Yeah, thank you. She was devastated when it happened and I think she felt like she couldn't confide in me because of my situation with him, so she only talked about it with Chucho” you re adjust the purse in your shoulder “well i need to buy a few things and then get back home to ma, I'll tell her that you´ll be visiting soon?” you ask, putting your gaze back into his warm eyes.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Tell her I'll be there on Friday, after finishing my chore on the ranch” he says, almost nervously putting his hands inside of the pockets in his tight jeans.

“Okay, I'll let her know Javi. She'll start making food today, I'm sure” you chuckle and take a step away “see you on Friday, bye!” you wave to him and make your way across the parking lot to enter the little store.

“Bye…” Javier mumbles more to himself than to you, since you were far already. His eyes can't help to roam the back side of your body in your sundress while you walk away from him, when he catches himself, he shakes the thoughts roaming his mind away and walks to his truck to go back to the ranch.

Next chapter

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atelierlili · 7 months ago

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Katniss, Peeta, and the messy in between.

For a while I've been seeing the sentiment of blaming the distance between Katniss and Peeta after the 74th games on Peeta entirely and I think it's rather unfair. It's a messy situation involving two teenagers who are both valid in their feelings at this point in time.

There's multiple things going on at the end of book 1 in regards to Peeta's relationship with both Katniss AND Haymitch that it feel unfair to blame him, when Peeta, like Katniss, more often than not, is the last one to find out other people's intentions/plans, even from his own allies.

Now before I start, I feel like I must preface this by saying I'm not bashing anyone in this analysis so if you're gonna say something rude and mean about my babies, make that U turn cause I aint having it. Also I'm a yapper so this is gonna be really long lol.

It begins on the train tracks. Katniss and Peeta are walking along the tracks when Peeta picks her a small bouquet of wildflowers as Katniss is struggling to convey the kind of danger they are in, while also being paranoid that they're being watched. At this time, she also connects Gale to the wild flowers Peeta has picked for her and its adding her anxiety to the point where she can't even pretend to be happy at Peeta's gift. And that's something he picks up on.

When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we’re allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There’s no longer any need to guard us. Peeta and I walk down along the track, hand in hand, and I can’t find anything to say now that we’re alone. He stops to gather a bunch of wildflowers for me. When he presents them, I work hard to look pleased. Because he can’t know that the pink and-white flowers are the tops of wild onions and only remind me of the hours I’ve spent gathering them with Gale.

“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks. “Nothing,” I answer. We continue walking, past the end of the train, out where even I’m fairly sure there are no cameras hidden in the scrubby bushes along the track. Still no words come. -THG - Chapter 27

Its not until Haymitch appears and drop the bomb and bows out that Peeta finally catches on that Katniss and Haymitch are still playing up the lover act without his knowledge.

Haymitch startles me when he lays a hand on my back. Even now, in the middle of nowhere, he keeps his voice down. “Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay.” I watch him head back to the train, avoiding Peeta’s eyes. “What’s he mean?” Peeta asks me. “It’s the Capitol. They didn’t like our stunt with the berries,” I blurt out. “What? What are you talking about?”

“So, what you’re saying is, these last few days and then I guess . . . back in the arena . . . that was just some strategy you two worked out.” “No. I mean, I couldn’t even talk to him in the arena, could I?” I stammer. “But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn’t you?” says Peeta. I bite my lip. “Katniss?” He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance. “It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.”

-THG - Chapter 27

The truth comes out. Uh oh. It seems this star crossed lovers act when on longer than Peeta expected. Granted, I don't recall him or Katniss ever making their status official, but somewhere between the cave and now, Peeta thought both him and Katniss were on the same page about their feelings. He's not wrong for thinking Katniss liked him back, she does, what he didn't account for is Katniss not knowing herself that she liked him back.

I think Peeta learning the truth through Haymitch and not Katniss starts them on the wrong foot. Because she isn't honest with him for a majority of the time in this scene. Yes, Katniss was worried if the capitol could hear them, but even after Haymitch lets them know they can talk freely, she's still isn't 100% honest with Peeta.

Now here comes the big question.

“It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.” “Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding on to my flowers. “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. “I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming

I'd be more than happy to dump all the blame on him for being a pissy baby after the revelation if it weren't for that last part at the end.

Peeta's hurt, yes, but he can rationalize that Katniss had to play lovers for the games, but here, right now, he's asking what he should be expecting when they get home. The words aren't there, but the subtext is loud and clear.

This is a confession. I'm hurt. But I still like you. Do you like me? Will we have something when we go home and the cameras are gone?

Katniss gives him her most honest answer yet. She doesn't know. She's confused and she's getting more confused as they get closer to home. And that's it. That's her answer. But it isn't enough.

Peeta explicitly waits for more of an explanation from Katniss. He hears nothing about her thoughts, feelings, fears. He only knows what she tells him. And when he doesn't get it, there's no other way to take it as a rejection.

So now what?

“Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable. -THG- Chapter 27-

“No, I ate at the Hob,” I say. “But thank you.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, it’s so formal. Just as it’s been every time I’ve spoken to Peeta since the cameras finished filming our happy homecoming and we returned to our real lives. -CF- Chapter 1

The camera crews and reporters packed up and went home. Peeta and I assumed the cool relationship we’ve had ever since. -CF- Chapter 2

And this is why I feel like it's so unfair to solely blame Peeta for their distance between THG and CF. This distance came from both sides.

Peeta ends Book one asking Katniss to be honest with him once she figures her own feelings out. But she never does. She just picks up her life and tries go back to what it was before the games.

Was he waiting for an answer? How long did he wait? When did he give up and accept that whatever was the 74th was something his mind made up while he lying half dead in a cave?

Katniss has a valid list of a million things that are clouding her feelings for Peeta. We know them because we're stuck in her head. But Peeta isn't. And to be honest, I don't think he ever knows all of them throughout the trilogy.

I want to tell him that he’s not being fair. That we were strangers. That I did what it took to stay alive, to keep us both alive in the arena. That I can’t explain how things are with Gale because I don’t know myself. That it’s no good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through? -THG- Chapter 27-

And this isn't a silly little fling for Peeta. He's liked Katniss since forever. Has there been other girls that caught his eye? Yes, maybe, but Katniss Everdeen has always been a soft spot for him.

Now, there is a part of him that now as to wonder WTF was going on in the Games, in the Cave and the Interview that followed after. You know the one, where Katniss cries into his chest, buries her face into his chest and practically sits on him the entire time.

Unlike Katniss, Peeta now has to question everything because the rug has just been pulled from underneath him. Yes, he's aware about the lover act and playing it up for the audience, but he isn't aware that Katniss and Haymitch have some crazy telepathic connection to each other that was guiding how Katniss would act towards Peeta in the games. He was even delirious half the time. How far did that go? When did it even begin? He knew that Haymitch was sending packages to Katniss instead of him.

I'm not making this shit up because it's the one thing that Peeta outwardly expresses frustration at (especially) Katniss and Haymitch.

“This has to stop. Right now. This — this — game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.” “It’s not like that, Peeta —” I begin. “It’s exactly like that!” he yells at me. “I have people I care about, too, Katniss! Family and friends back in District Twelve who will be just as dead as yours if we don’t pull this thing off. So, after all we went through in the arena, don’t I even rate the truth from you?” - CF - Chapter 5 -

So what is the point i'm making here? Oh right. I think Peeta is 1000% justified in withdrawing from Katniss after the train tracks. What else is he suppose to do? This isn't something he can bounce back and recover from right away. Taking a step back is the most mature thing to do in this situation. For his sake and hers.

I dislike the notion that his apology denotes complete wrong doing on his part. He's having a human moment and he navigates it better than most would. Yes, he freezes her out, but he doesn't berate her, blame her or is mean to her. He just fucks off and deals with his own emotions and only shows up to play the perfect boyfriend. (And when he does, he never does it with malice OR resentment, at least to from Katniss' obervation.) What other alternative is there? He's genuinely hurt and I feel like expecting him to be comforting and supportive on and off camera when he's hurting inside to be unfair.

We sympathize with Katniss because we're in her head 24/7. We can get to hear her yearn and pine for Peeta after the train tracks. But Katniss also just doesn't mention her every trying to fix her relationship with Peeta between books. She lets the ice freeze over until Peeta comes back to ofter friendship instead. Yes, she has trauma and more hang ups than the average modern day person, but so does Peeta. Trauma is an explanation, not an excuse. If Katniss is allowed three books to figure out her feelings for Peeta, Peeta should be allowed the in between of Book 1 and 2 to figure out his with Katniss.

There should be more nuance when we look at this point in time where Peeta and Katniss' relationship is estranged. Peeta has a lot of reasons why he might want distance from her and I think it's unfair to blame him for it. From him questioning the games, Katniss and Haymitch's involvement with each other and Katniss non-answer of a rejection to his feelings, there's a lot of things he needs to sort out himself. Yes, she saved his life, but she also doesn't answer a lot of questions he asks of her. Katniss doesn't owe him a relationship for what happened in the games, or even her reasons why she's not ready for a relationship. But in turn, we shouldn't blame Peeta if he personally needs time to pick himself up, to figure things out himself. And this is just one thing on top of the trauma that follows both of them after the games. He also just fucking lost his leg LMAO

#THG from Peeta's point of view is mostly him being unintentionally gaslit by everyone #including himself #I was on reddit and I kept seeing people bring up Peeta icing Katniss out after being rejected and blaming it on him #and it was erking me #and I know it's partly because Peeta is mostly flawless as character in Katniss' eyes and they're looking for his flaws #but I think its because they both like each other and they bring the best out each other #I actually think this estrangement is wonderfuly crafted by Suzzane #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg #ramblings of a madwoman #I might have poke the bear with this one #oh well

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phoebepheebsphibs · 7 months ago

Text

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 27: Ecology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Casey is helping Mikey to pack essentials.

"Paints?"

Mikey nods.

"Paper?"

Mikey nods.

"Any clothes?"

Mikey stops mid-nod.

Huh. He actually hadn't thought about that...

Mikey looks down at his bare self. Casey wears clothes, April wears clothes, Drrrrrrrrraxum (he forgot his name for a sec) wears clothes, even Splinter wears clothes! His brothers wear clothes, to some extent. Sometimes they wear sweaters or hoodies or shirts, but mostly they wear things like masks and belts and gloves or wrappings over their arms. Mikey doesn't wear anything at all.

"Mmm, yes, pack clothes. Wwwwwhat, uh... what should Mikey -- I, what should I pack?"

"Well, in case it gets cold, maybe a sweater or something," Casey offers. "Do you wanna look through some of your stuff?"

Mikey nods and creeps next to Casey as he opens up a dresser drawer. It's filled with sweatshirts and jackets and pullovers.

"Which one looks good to you?"

"Mmmmmm.... um, I-I don't know," Mikey mumbles, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of choices.

He didn't think there would be this many clothes to pick from...

Casey sees the slight agitation on Mikey's face.

"Well, we should probably pick one that will keep you warm, so a thicker one is best," he suggests. "And maybe something soft? Oh, and let's look for a bigger size to fit over your shell..."

Casey starts to rummage through the drawer. He pulls out a hoodie with a sun decal and examines it.

"How's this one?" he asks.

"Looks good," Mikey says, sniffing it. It smells kind of like him! A little different than he smells now, but still similar... "W-will it ffffit?"

"Let's try," Casey replies, spreading it open and helping to direct Mikey's head and arms into the corresponding holes.

It's a big size, and Mikey vanishes in the hood. His talons are hidden by the sleeves, he flaps them around with a giggle. It's a surprisingly big hoodie, and Mikey wonders why he ever got something so huge. He doesn't recall that it was a gift for Raph but he'd outgrown it quickly, and gave it to the sunniest brother in the group.

"I like this one," Mikey chirps gleefully. "Can I keep it on?"

"Sure," Casey smiles. "It's yours anyway. We should find a few more to pack, though..."

"Big one!" Mikey requests. "Like this big!"

"Uh, well, I think that might be the biggest hoodie you have... Raphael might have a few we can borrow. I'll find some extras of yours to pack, though... while I do that, why don't you go get your blankets and pillows ready?"

Mikey chirps and crawls over to his bed -- whoop!

Mikey trips on his sleeve and crashes.

"Mikey! You okay?"

"Mm-hmm!" He says quickly, regaining his balance. "All good!"

Mikey shakes himself out and goes again -- whoop!

Mikey tumbles slightly, but catches himself. He tries folding the sleeves up above his wrists, but they fall loose and drape over his knuckles and drag across the floor as he trots. Mikey grumbles softly as he tries to figure this out...

"What's wrong?" Casey asks.

"Mmmngh... can't move right," Mikey groans. "Sleeves too long..."

"Do you need me to cut them or --"

"No, just... hmm. I can't mmmmove. Won't fold up right... can C-C-C-Casey help?"

Casey looks over the situation carefully, coming up with possible solutions.

"Well, if I fold them, they'll probably just fall loose again," he says. "You won't be able to crawl around in that."

"Do I have to take it off?"

"No, but there is another solution."

"Eh?" Mikey perks up. "What to do?"

"Have you tried walking upright?"

Mikey pauses, mouth open. His hands fidget.

"Haven't tried yet.... a l-little nervous..."

"Do you wanna try now? I'll help!" Casey offers, standing up and offering a hand to him. "I'll catch you if you fall."

Mikey swallows nervously. He reaches out for Casey's hand and takes it, careful not to grip him too hard for fear of cutting his skin with his nails. Casey pulls him up, causing Mikey to stumble with a cry.

"I got you, I got you!" he reassures him. "You're okay... Okay, you've got your balance?"

"Mm-hmmmmmmm," Mikey says with a nervous twinge in his voice.

"Alright, so follow my lead, one foot out --"

Casey swings his right leg forwards, taking a small step. Mikey watches as if Casey just jumped fifty buildings in one leap. He shakily lifts his own leg, and follows. He wobbles as he moves, almost losing balance and tipping over, but Casey holds his hand with determination.

Casey then moves his left foot to match. Mikey follows slowly, weakly. His legs shake. It's mostly just the balance that's his issue. The new tail is throwing him off, trying to readjust to the new center of gravity. But Mikey is figuring it out. Casey holds his hand like he's a toddler, walking with him around the room and giving words of affirmation and praise as he starts to pick up the pace. Casey steps further and further away from Mikey the longer they walk, letting him gain confidence in himself and get used to walking alone. The two get distracted from the packing and start roaming the halls. Casey lets go of Mikey's hand --

"No wet go!" Mikey scolds.

He's only a year old, and can barely get his points across, but he's trying. Splinter holds his tiny, stubby hands and uses his own claws to keep him upright as the tiny tot tries walking for the fourth time today, sixteenth time this week, fortieth time this month.

"I won't," Splinter promises with a sigh.

It's only been a year since the mutations, and he's still getting used to walking himself. Every once in a while, his tail will smack him in the leg, he'll forget it's there and think a strange snake got into the lair and try to protect the boys from it before realizing in embarrassment what it actually is. He's getting better with it, though...

Though parenthood is a new challenge he can't say he ever expected. The worry that he may mess up irrevocably without realizing it, the fear that maybe there will be an issue in health that he doesn't know how to solve, and even small things, like the differences in each son and learning curves or gaps.

The rest of the boys are walking. But Mikey is the baby, he's having trouble. He seems to be the 'special' baby, the late bloomer. He can crawl like his brothers do, but not as fast. They all can walk, Raphael can even run by this point! And the others can swim like experts. But Mikey almost drowned in his very first bath. Splinter might be babying him a bit, taking extra caution with him in some aspects... he does it for each baby. He's terrified of Donatello getting hurt because of his soft shell, so he is extra gentle. He's sure that Raphael is never alone because he'll start crying, and he lets him sleep in bed with him at night rather than in the box with the others. Leonardo is an attention hog and cries when he doesn't have the spotlight, so Splinter has to praise him a lot to help him feel validated. And Michelangelo is smaller than the rest, and for whatever reason he can't seem to stay on his feet for very long.

Despite all this, Mikey is determined and optimistic. But he's still nervous, and holds his father's hand with all his might. He fits within Splinter's palm, and Splinter helps to balance the baby boxshell as best he can without knocking him over.

Mikey takes a deep breath and swings his leg out. His foot hits the floor with a loud 'plap', and he swings his other leg out as well.

Splinter holds his hand behind him gently, his youngest son clinging to his fingers. Eventually, he takes the hand behind him away. He slowly leads Mikey around the area, guiding him by moving his finger in certain directions.

"Mikey say no wet go!" the baby shouts again when his father's hand drifts away faster than Mikey can keep up.

"I'm not letting go," Splinter explains. "I'm just moving my hand a little."

"Dada go too fast," Mikey scolds. "Dada no wet go."

"I won't," he promises.

Splinter and Mikey travel all around the room, with the little baby toddling around as best he can. It seems like he might be getting the hang of it!

Mikey trips and tumbles, having been distracted by the memory.

Casey grabs his arm as he reaches out for him, pulling Mikey back up as best he can.

"Whoah! Mikey, you okay?"

"Uh-huh," Mikey mumbles quickly, regaining his footing and holding onto Casey as though his life depended on it. "I'mmmmmm okayyyyy... jus' tripped."

"Okay," Casey says with a smile. "But so far, are you okay? Walking all good?"

"Shaky," Mikey says. "T-r-r-r-ricky... but, okay."

"Great," Casey nods. "It'll be a little difficult at first, but you'll get it!"

"Casey doing good job helping," Mikey says with a chuckle as he takes another step forward. "Thank you..."

"It's no problem," Casey says with a soft chuckle in return. "It's nothing compared to helping Sensei with his physical therapy after he lost his arm..."

"Huh?" Mikey asks in confusion. He's mentioned 'Sensei' before... who is he?

"Oh, n-nothing. Just something that happened in the alternate future..."

"Casey wanna talk about it?" Mikey asks.

Casey looks at Mikey in surprise. Everyone has been avoiding the subject of the future as though hearing more about it will bring about a crazy time curse or something.

But... if Mikey wants to know... what can it hurt?

"Well... okay! See, in the future..."

Casey talks on and on, explaining how Leo had lost his arm and had difficulty getting used to the physical therapy, and Casey helped him to adjust. Casey talks about how Donatello created a prosthetic arm that was equipped with weapons and equipment, and when Casey (who eight years old at the time) wanted one, Donatello made him a special glove fitted with a grappling hook so he could match his Sensei. Casey talks about how Mikey was an inspiration and kept the positivity in the Resistance, using his mystic powers to create all kinds of beautiful magic for the people and immeasurable protections and attacks against the Krang.

Mikey listens to Casey intensely, despite the fact that none of it makes any sense whatsoever to him.

Leo walks out and places his stuff down by the exit. There's a pile growing already, with duffel bags and totes and a few boxes of things that the group will need to occupy themselves. Leo packed several comics for himself, as well as puzzles and games for Mikey so he can exercise his brain. Raph packed up a flurry of stuffed animals, and was also tasked with packing Mikey's memory goop. April finished packing snacks for them to munch on while at Draxum's, and she also took the lead for gathering up Mikey's art supplies, too. Donnie packed an army's worth of purple jackets and hoodies and all of his tech and information on Mikey's double-mutation. He still hasn't given up trying to find a cure, despite knowing that there won't be one. Splinter packed up a few robes, his Lou Jitsu film collection, and as many scrapbooks as he could fit.

Leo notices that -- despite the enormous pile -- there are still a few bags missing.

Specifically orange bags.

Casey was supposed to help Mikey get packed up, but he hasn't seen or heard from either of them for a while. What are they up to?

Leo searches the lair, finding the two walking along one of the halls together. Mikey is standing upright, rather than crouched down on the floor on all fours. He's walking! Actually walking? Leo had been wondering about that, whether or not Mikey could still stand up or not.

He's a little shaky, but he's got the spirit. Mikey looks happy, but not completely confident in himself; he's holding onto CJ like a lifeline, refusing to let go as they roam around the rec room together, arm in arm.

Casey keeps Mikey entertained as they walk, talking on and on about...

Leo stops and feels his head go numb as he hears what Casey Jones Jr. is talking about.

"...And then Sensei grabbed the Krang dog by the leg and threw it at --"

"Hey, guys," Leo says, waving at them. "What's going on in here?"

"Oh, hey Leo!" CJ says with a nervous smile. "I was just helping Mikey try walking again. And, uh, we just started talking, and..."

"Casey is confusing!" Mikey announces proudly, stating it like it's an award or title that Casey earned. "Learning a lot!"

"Learning?" Leo asks.

"Future," Mikey explains. "You have an arm -- uhh.... Casey, what is the word?"

"Prosthetic?"

"Yeah, that. Leo gets a cool arm! Like a gift! You lost your old one, so Donnie made you another! Why did you have multiple arms?"

Leo turns and stares at Casey, his eye twitching.

"...It's.... uh.... a long story," Leo manages. "But, um, maybe we can talk about it later."

Casey shrinks a bit, his head goes low and his shoulders slump. Mikey notices the shift in the room, and is about to ask why they're both acting weird when Leo changes the subject.

"So, are you all packed?"

"Oh, uh, n-no, not yet, we kinda got distracted..."

"Well, why don't I help you out real quick?"

Leo pulls the two back into Mikey's room. He has Mikey pick out several more sweatshirts and hoodies to wear while Leo and CJ go to bag up his blankets and pillows.

Mikey listens to them as they whisper; eventually they catch on and sign to each other instead. Mikey watches from his peripherals, trying to not let them realize he's eavesdropping on them. It's tough, they both turn away and he can only catch bits and pieces.

'...why would you tell him...'

'...didn't think... issue... he asked....'

'...he's confused...'

'What do you mean?'

'Memory... doesn't know... aliens...'

'...sorry... didn't know...'

'...don't want to make it more confusing for him...'

'Okay...'

'Besides... talked about this...promised to keep it secret...'

'...just wanted someone to talk to...'

'....why should they know... painful... don't want them to hurt...'

'What about my hurt?'

Casey and Leo turn away from Mikey fully. He can't see the rest of their conversation, but by their body language he can tell it's not going well. CJ gets up and storms away. Leo sighs and droops in the corner of the room. Mikey hops over to him and nuzzles his back.

"Leo okay?"

He turns around and fakes a smile at him.

"All good, mi hermano. Just... trying to figure some stuff out with Casey."

"Is Casey okay?"

Leo heaves a sigh.

"...Let's just get you packed up. Do you wanna bring your chucks?"

Leo holds out the sticks he tried to give Mikey a few days ago. Mikey still doesn't understand what they are.

"No," he says with a shrug. "I don't. Unless you want them..."

"No, I don't -- Mikey, they're your weapons!" Leo clarifies. "You use them for your ninpo, remember?"

"What's a ninpo?" Mikey asks as he starts digging through his shirts again.

Leo is silent for a while. Mikey gets nervous that he said something wrong and turns back to look at him. Leo's eyes are wide and his face is shaken. But he blinks and resets, his expression changes to a feeble smile.

"Uh, nevermind. I'll tell ya later..."

Once Mikey's supplies are all compiled, the group meets in the garage.

Leo pulls out his katanas and slashes the air, creating a portal.

"All right everyone, let's go!"

Leo directs the group as though he were directing traffic, each person jumping through with their stuff one at a time. Mikey and Leo are the last two left in the room.

"You ready?"

Mikey nods, slowly pushing himself up and standing with a wobble. Leo takes his hand, and the two step through the portal.

It disorients Mikey more than he expected, and he stumbles after the second step, almost falling over before Leo wraps his arms around him and steadies him again.

"Well well, it's nice to see you finally arrive," Draxum grumbles as he greets Donnie. "Although, I didn't expect you to bring so many guests... I thought you said it was just your family?"

"Yeah, that's me, Mikey, Raph, Leo, Splinter, April, and Casey Jr.," he explains without looking up from his phone. "Oh, and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0."

Mikey notices CJ perk up with a smile when his name is mentioned in the list of family members.

But Draxum sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I see. I didn't account for that... I'm afraid I don't have enough room for everyone."

"I won't be staying overnight," April offers.

"Still, the addition of the rat and the time traveler was unexpected."

"Well, it's a good thing you have a certified genius to help with construction, then," Donnie says, cracking his knuckles. "S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., prepare the schematics!"

"On it, dude," the robot says with a laugh as he starts to scan the building.

"You don't honestly think that we can add two extra rooms from scratch by this evening?" Draxum challenges.

"You doubt my skills?"

"In addition to the rest of the renovations? Finishing by tomorrow night would be a miracle," he growls. "We'll have to find somewhere else to house you all until it's finished..."

"Like where?" Raph asks. "Not the Hotel Nexus..."

"Big Mama is not the only hotel proprietor in the Hidden City," Draxum huffs. "I know of a nice resort that could take us in..."

"Wait, resort? Not the one that only takes in people with hair, right?" Leo fidgets, his hands reaching to cover his bald head.

"I do have a membership there," Draxum says. "But there is another one --"

"Not the one across the street!" Leo begs, almost falling to his knees.

"No, of course not. There's more than one, don't worry. I'll call for a coach, and you can stay there until my home is repaired."

Draxum summons a flying cart with a pegasus, and the group fill the trunk with their belongings and climb in. The winged horse brays and jumps into the air, carrying the cart away.

"Not exactly a simurgh ride, but still pretty cool," Leo smirks. "Whaddya think, Mikey?"

Mikey leans over the side of the cart, the wind in his face and the underworld beneath him. It's so pretty, incredibly bright and colorful! For so long, all he knew was white coats and grey tiles and pitch black machines...

Mikey hoots as the cart flies. He loves this! Raph reaches over to keep him safely in the wagon when he thinks Mikey might fall out.

Mikey takes in the many smells... there's an entire world down here! And another world above! Mikey starts bouncing with excitement and anticipation...

The cart lands in front of a large Yokai resort, multicolored palm trees dotting the lawn and enormous shells decorating the entrance.

The group step out, oohing and awing at the underground beaches and beautiful views from behind the building.

"How do they have a sky and ocean?" Raph asks, pointing.

"It's a form of portal magic," Draxum states.. "There are many parts of the world still uninhabited by man, hundreds of undiscovered islands in the ocean. The Yokai use special spells to create bridges between those islands and their own cities, folds in space and reality, creating the illusion that the sandy shores are here, when in fact we are --"

"Less talking, more vacay!" Splinter shouts, running into the hotel. "Papa needs a suntan and a fruity drink with a tiny umbrella!!"

April cackles as Draxum rolls his eyes.

"And to think I chose him as the mightiest warrior for my experiments..."

Mikey turns to look at Draxum when he hears the word 'experiments'. But no one else seems to mind. Leo notices Mikey's nervous twitch and pats him on the back.

"It's okay," Leo whispers. "He means something else. He is a good guy. I promise you're safe."

Safe. Safe. Safe.

Mikey trusts Leo.

The duo follow after the rest into the lobby as Splinter rings the front bell several times over.

"Be right there!" a surprisingly cheery voice calls out.

A moment later, two small bat-like creatures fly out to greet the guests.

"Hi, and welcome to -- DRAXUM?!"

"BOSS!"

Draxum's eyes widen.

"Huginn? Muninn? You work here now??"

"Yeah!" Huginn cheers. "Can you believe it? We got such a cushy job here! I mean, well... it's okay. The pay stinks, the manager is the owner's son, we have to give rent for our own room, which is actually the supply closet..."

"But at least we have dental!" Muninn chimes in.

"...You're gargoyles. You don't have any teeth," Draxum states flatly.

"Yeah.... we didn't really think this through," Muninn sighs.

"Well, you're looking... um, good," Draxum says quickly. "I wasn't sure what happened to you two after the incident with the Dark Armor."

"We kinda... went off the grid after you disappeared and the arrest warrants went out," Huginn sighs. "It was tough finding work. But you're off the hook now! Congrats!"

"We've never been prouder!" Muninn smiles. "So, what's up with you? Looks like you finally got the turtles to team up with you!"

"It's a long story. But I've, uh..." Draxum swallows. "Been busy. Restoring my old home."

"Wow, really? Still?" Huginn asks. "Well, if, uh... you ever need someone to perch on your shoulders again, or y'know, do menial tasks like bridling ravenous ponies or filing taxes..."

Draxum smiles.

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, do you have any rooms available?"

"For you?" Muninn grins wide. "Private luxury suite!"

He tosses the key to the warring warrior scientist, who catches it with ease.

"We'll take your bags up for ya!" Muninn says, fluttering over to the pile. "You guys can go check out the pool, spa, bingo hall, buffet, and beachside!"

The teens immediately run out the back door to explore the beach as Draxum and his former goyles start to gather up the luggage.

Huginn notices Mikey scurrying past.

"Hey boss, isn't that...?"

"Like I said, it's a long story," Draxum says with a sigh.

The teens rush out and explore the beach. An aurora of rainbows wrap over the edge of the property, creating an archway that leads to a hidden tropical paradise. Mikey can feel the breeze and smell the water from where he is. Casey stares in shock at it all. He starts to tear up.

"You okay, CJ?" April asks.

"...I... huh? Oh, yeah," he says, coming back to reality, sniffing a bit as he wipes his eyes. "I just... I never knew that the world looked like this... it's so beautiful, and intact, and... big..."

April smiles, taking his hand and leading him to the beach.

"Come on, future kid. We're gonna introduce you to the magic of a beachside vacation."

Mikey chirps happily as he runs alongside them. Leo and Raph are already at the water's edge, splashing in the tide. Donnie watches from just beyond their reach, smiling softly, letting his feet sink in the sand as he basks in the sun.

It's so warm here, the sun is so bright and the water is so sparkling...

Mikey presses a hand into the wet sand. It squishes under his pressure. Casey mimics him, pressing his hand into the soft sand. He laughs. Mikey laughs with him, digging his claws deeper and deeper. His knuckles feel something hard with ridges. He pulls out a shell. Casey awes at it, staring in wonder. Mikey hands it over for him to examine.

Open. Space. Run. Free. Zoom.

Mikey starts bolting, running along the water's edge and kicking up sand as he races against the wind. He shrieks with laughter. He circles around and races back, zooming back and forth over and over again. He can hear Casey and April laughing at his speed, enjoying the fact that he's enjoying himself.

Mikey turns to the water. Leo and Raph are up to their knees in the waves. Leo beckons him out to join them.

Mikey, crouches, getting ready to pounce...

His animal intuitions take over. Rather than jump in the water... he runs. His legs speed under him, his back straightens and he runs on two feet instead of all fours. He bolts across the water, going past Leo and Raph in an instant and speeding away. He runs atop the water, the webbing in between his toes creating air pockets beneath that keep him afloat as he runs.

Mikey runs on water, never having felt more free in his life.

He can hear the others shouting for him and cheering him on. Mikey laughs loudly as he runs in an arc and returns quickly, coming towards Leo and Raph, who realize too late what Mikey's plans are.

Mikey leaps and jumps them. The two shout in fear as he pounces, knocking them into the water.

Donnie howls with laughter. April woops and Casey cheers. Leo and Raph are sputtering under Mikey but laughing all the same. Mikey cackles with joy as Raph splashes Mikey in retaliation and Leo flips him over, crashing him into an oncoming wave. Mikey swims around them like a snake before jumping out and pouncing on Raph again.

Splinter watches from the shore with a smile as his family lets themselves be kids for the first time in a very, very long time.

Prev || Next || Deleted Scene

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snowdice · 3 months ago

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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 122]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

Not going to do much this morning because I only have an hour or so. I may do more later today however.

Chapter 55 (Logan)

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce more and more quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think cardamom would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intention,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the cardamom.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than cardamom, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it’s a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said. The ‘but I can’ was implied.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the main kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already vanished before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in violent flames. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand, at that very moment, decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to look at them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I do not wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

Chapter 56 (Thomas)

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs.

So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had actually tried to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a Princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior at this point. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy on the ground, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently scoot all of the cats out of his lap. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The Cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to it, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way.

Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

He still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to The Cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

#proofread stories #not writing

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1moreff-creator · 1 year ago

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Happy Birthday Eden Tobisa!

Turns out our favorite clock girly has her birthday on New Year's Eve! What a nice date for such a nice girl! Let's do a character analysis, fun facts, and songs!

-We know relatively little about Eden's backstory. The most notable thing we know about her life before the killing game, apart from her fascination with clocks, is what is revealed in her chapter 2 secret: "Ever since you kissed her, you were afraid your sexuality would ruin your friendships." Which is pretty straightforward; she's canonically a lesbian and is worried it would negatively affect her friendships.

-Literally the only other thing we know about her backstory is that she lived in Japan for a small period of time when she was younger, before moving back to the US. This was revealed in a Q&A.

(... You know, I made a deranged theory in my Mai post that maybe the girl that Eden kissed was actually Mai. It wasn't very serious, since it was just a silly way to try to explain what the hell Eden's quote in the Mai page could mean. But... we know Teruko was in Japan for a while when she was younger, and it's theorized she knew Mai before being separated from her at some point. Combined with Mai's name being seemingly Japanese, it could imply Mai also lived in Japan at some point. And if that's the case, it's possible she met Eden there? To be clear, that's still an insane possibility, but I do find it a funny possibility, which is why I'm sharing it)

-Apart from that, Eden's defining trait is her optimism and her trust in others. She sticks to Teruko's side even after she starts pushing everyone away in CH 1, and confesses to her that she believes "not caring about others is the worst way to live." She's importantly not naive, she does know their situation is horrible, but still she constantly searches for an exit and tries to build good friendships with the others.

-This includes baking with Min, Rose and Teruko in CH1, inviting Teruko and Arei to make clocks on CH2, etc. Basically, she's awesome and nice and mature.

-Also she loves clocks. Regular Ultimate stuff, she can apparently spend hours and hours working and losing track of time.

-Although for such an optimistic character, her secret quote is quite ominous. "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try." We have zero clue what this means at the moment, but at least it does fit the symbolism of time always moving forward.

-Meanwhile, her quote in the Mai page is "She kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up." This is even more incomprehensible! Eden, what in the world are you talking about?

-Alright, David MV. She doesn't have a color in Color Theory, but her numeral is XII (twelve). Go to 1:48:28 in this video for an explanation. God it's so convenient to have that lol.

Alright fun facts!

-As stated, her birthday (December 31st) lands on New Year's Eve. Maybe representing new beginnings or change, which certainly goes well with her character. How nice!

-Like most of the cast, she's American and right-handed.

-She's one of the only characters with dyed hair. Her hair was originally just brown.

-Her favorite color is daffodil yellow, because it's happy, and her least favorite color is blue, because it's "kind of a downer color." Areden shippers in shambles.

-Her favorite ice cream flavor is honeycomb. I didn't even know that existed but go off queen.

-She enjoys cute fashion, but also enjoys wearing androgynous style clothing.

-She likes food which is fun to make or prepare. How nice!

-She's biracial; her mother is black and her father is Japanese. This is why she spent a bit of time in Japan when she was younger.

-Her name in kanji is 飛佐【とび・さ】楽【いーでん】. Gonna leave any actual meaning as homework, but it's worth noting her name was anglicized. I think that would translate to "Iden", but her mother liked the name "Eden", so they went with that instead.

Finally, songs that remind me of her!

-Positive Parade by DECO*27

-Gone Fishing by Ghost & Pals (friendship!)

-Aura by Ghost & Pals

-In Iolite by Ghost & Pals

-Magnet by minato

-Those Who Carried On by Ghost & Pals

-I'm Glad You're Evil Too by PinocchioP

And Happy Birthday! And a happy new year! Well wishes to all you Tumblr peeps. Take care!

#drdt #eden tobisa #character birthday #danganronpa despair time #i am again sorry for disappearing i swear i’ll return eventually

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farfromstrange · 7 months ago

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Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 27: A Greater Woman Wouldn't Beg

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: You fight for your life as the paramedics take you to the hospital. The first time, you wake up without Michael but in the presence of your best friend. The second time, Sarah has accepted defeat.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of injury, blood, mentions of violence, medical setting, flashback, descriptions of child abuse & abuse in general, fight or flight response, trauma triggers

Word Count: 5.5k

A/n: I was hoping to get this done sooner, but then I got sick and swamped by uni work, so I only now got it done. The next chapter will be Michael's POV of this. I wanted to make that a separate part, so I focused on Reader's POV for this one, and then you guys will figure out what Michael was really up when he didn't pick up.

Your hands are wet. Slippery. They smell like citrus and rosemary, a mixture of scents you have never quite enjoyed. Why would your blood smell like chicken seasoning, anyway? And why would it foam clearly in your hands, almost as though it was mostly water?

You look up with your eyebrows furrowed. The walls are anything but dark. Ivory wallpaper without accents; you swore you would never paint the walls of your home the same color. It is utterly tryst and boring for a house that has harbored many horrors in your lifetime.

You’re standing before the sink, the dishes running through your hands like quicksand. And they’re so much smaller. Bruises litter your skin like a mosaic masterpiece. Purple and blue blend into green, which doesn’t make any sense; blue and green should not make purple, but the skin is somehow wired that way.

All you remember is the creaking of your floorboards, Dublin eerily quiet outside as your heart beat up to your throat, and then the light went out and someone—a stranger who had not anticipated your arrival—attacked you. The shards from your favorite vase were a weapon of opportunity. It felt like someone was draining the air from your lungs with a rough cut. He sliced you open without a care. You tried calling Michael and screaming for him, but it was all a gurgle. And then, you remember, the world went dark.

The streets of London’s suburbs are quiet. You’re not supposed to be here.

“This is wrong,” you murmur. “This is all wrong.”

Maybe you died and went to hell? Looking down at yourself, you don’t find any evidence of blood. Your skin remains undisturbed. The radio is playing an early 2000s ballad. You don’t remember hearing it in a while. A chill runs down your spine.

The volume is just loud enough to tune out the screaming from the room across the hall. The snapping of leather that cuts through the air like a lightning bolt and does not care about the sound barrier has always been so deafening. Your bruises sting when you listen closely, and the music moves into the background as it had too many times back then. You could still hear everything. Every cry for help, every one of his disgusting words against her because she never did the dishes right.

You should be washing the, going over it a million times until you can see your reflection in the porcelain, or you will be next. It’s then that the screaming stops. Your pulse spikes. The air in your lungs gets trapped by a thin rubber band. It’s straining, and your heart feels like it’s bleeding out. You can’t breathe.

He calls your name. Your hands are still wet. Slippery. You can’t turn to the sink fast enough.

Ever since you can remember, you have been looking for someone to blame other than yourself for the way he treated you. Your mother never even tried to protect you when he laid his hands on you, but you would hear her cries every night when he let whatever frustrations he had left out on her. Maya and Ellie were never planned, and it makes you sick to your stomach to think about it. There is a certain amount of guilt that comes with blaming someone who can’t be blamed because she, too, is only a victim. But she has never felt like a mother to you, to begin with; she has always resented you because, in a way, you will always remind her of him. She’s so deep in it, you could never pull her out. And maybe that is why, in your mind, you blame her for all the times he hurt you and she wasn’t there. But it wasn’t her fault.

Part of you wonders if she would be able to get better once he’s gone, but she has always refused to believe in him as the devil. Stockholm syndrome. He looks so innocent, but he holds a power your mother’s fragile mind has never been able to withstand, and unless she wants to leave him, you won’t be able to help her.

But oh, it is so easy to blame someone other than your father—to blame everyone around you who only stood by and watched and continues to trust him blindly even now.

You were never good enough because you dared to disagree, never living up to expectations. Maya hit the spot better than you ever could, and Ellie was just collateral damage. God, your heart burns. Everything about you is on fire. It has always been a game to him. If he can’t control and manipulate someone else, he will fall apart. And in trying to break the cycle, you inevitably put a target on everyone else’s back.

The echo of the belt whipping through the air is forever tattooed on your brain. He calls your name from the hallway, and the floorboards creak like they did in your apartment. His steps are heavy, always landing with the back first to make the most noise. And he’s wearing those steel boots again he was issued for work. They hurt the most when they fracture your ribs.

You grab the plate just as his face appears in the doorway. He’s distorted. Your mind refuses to let him in, knowing it will break you. The pictures caught him so clearly, but nothing does your memory justice. The way he used to look at you, as though he was dead inside.

Your hands are so slippery though. The porcelain falls, and before you can catch it, it shatters. The pain tears through your side. Your lungs are sucking in air, but it isn’t to sustain them; they are falling apart.

The soap turns crimson. Black holes start to dance in your vision. The air gets trapped in your skin, and soon enough, you’re falling again, through the wood and into the atmosphere.

“She’s comin’ back,” a strange voice sounds through the endless void.

You blink your eyes open against the harsh light trying to blind you. Blue and yellow and white. Hell looks a lot different than you expected. It doesn’t hurt though, it’s just heavy. A cloud settles over you, and this constant obnoxious beeping next to your ear pulls you out of the thick syrup you landed in.

The smell of antiseptic fills your nose next, harsh and unforgiving. It’s not citrus and rosemary. You can’t hear his voice anymore, but you didn’t dry your hands. They’re still wet, not slippery but sticky now. And they’re so heavy, you can’t move them. The world around you morphs into a pit of oil instead.

You try to move again, but your limbs feel like they’re encased in cement. Something is covering your face. Plastic. So much oxygen in your lungs, and they keep burning. Why is no one helping you? You’re breathing, and the air is so clear you might go into shock because no human is supposed to breathe air this clean, right? You don’t understand, and you don’t remember...

“Easy, easy,” the same voice says softly. You can’t make out her face. “You gave us quite a scare. Your lung collapsed, but you’re gonna be okay.”

You try to lift the mask from your face, but a gentle hand stops you. “You’ve gotta keep that on, dear,” she tells you. And then the light gets brighter as she shines it directly into your eyes. “It’s best if you don’t try to talk. We’re almost at the hospital. Can you give me a nod yes if you remember what happened to ya?”

It’s your responsibility, you think. You try to nod your head, but it’s so heavy.

“Alright, good girl. Do you remember your name?”

Again, you nod.

“That’s good. Perfect. Pupils equal and reactive. Breath sounds equal. And the patient is responsive,” she says toward you, but you know it’s not directed at you. Right now, she’s just a blotch of light in a world full of darkness.

You still lift the mask from your mouth because if you’re responsive, you have to respond. “Mi—” you cut yourself off. Your tongue hurts. He didn’t pick up when you called. Why do you want to say his name when he seems to be done with you?

Your lung collapsed and the first person you think of is him, but you don’t seem to be on his mind. And you can’t count on him. Not right now. Maybe not ever again, but that isn’t his fault. You walked out. If you die, at least he can’t blame himself. Or is it more of a question of when?

“Sarah,” you slur instead. Whatever pain medication they gave you, it’s working wonderfully; you’re as high as a kite.

The strange voice asks, “Sarah?”

She must think you’re not as lucid as she suspected. You shake your head, or maybe you’re nodding. “Call… Sarah,” you finally manage to say. And two words are better than none.

“Sarah,” the paramedic repeats, nodding as if to assure you she understands. You can see the halo moving. “Okay. We’ll call Sarah for ya. Just try to relax.”

You let the mask fall back into place, too exhausted to protest further. They’re calling Sarah. Because you don’t have anyone else. A pain spreads through your chest, but it is nowhere physical. It spreads through your soul like wildfire, and even through the fog, you can feel the tear slipping from your eye and down your cheek. The salt burns in the cut on your lip.

The angel is right there with you. As your vision becomes clearer, your body seems to thaw. You grunt. “Looks like you’re in pain,” she says. “I’ll give two more milligrams of morphine.”

Morphine. That’s what it is. Before the pain in your side can come back with a vengeance, it is stopped by the delicious liquid she administers to your infusion. The world grows instantly fuzzier again.

The ambulance rocks gently as it speeds towards the hospital, at least that is where you are starting to suspect you are, and the world outside the windows blurs into streaks of light. Hypnotizing streaks of light. Your eyes roll back into your skull.

The darkness engulfs you. You’re floating in a black sea full of nothing. The tide carries you for miles and miles and then some. You flail around helplessly until you eventually decide to give up. It’s of no use anyway. You float for a while, carried for an eternity more until the rushing of the ocean turns into the unmistakable sound of your own heart.

The first real thing you feel is a dull ache in your skull. Your nerve endings are desperately tearing at each other. The beeping gets louder, accompanied by a throbbing in your ribcage. It’s not your heart; the pain tears through your skin and the muscles below, and every time you try to take a conscious breath, you’re inhaling toxic smoke.

You open your eyes. The light is less bright here. It’s blurry, at first, but the world slowly comes to life again. You’re sore all over, but as far as you can tell, you’re alive and no longer high on opioids. How long have you been out? It must have been hours.

And then it hits you again—what happened. The intruder, the missing file, the broken vase, and his hands all over you. Your neck still aches. You can feel his fingers trying to squeeze the life out of you, but you wouldn’t budge. You remember contemplating how to take your life when you were just a child, but tonight, you chose to fight back. And it landed you here.

You have been in worse pain. The feeling of waking up alone has therefore become more than familiar over the years. Just you and the beeping monitors. You wonder if they can show a broken heart.

Lifting your tired arm, you reach for the cannulas in your nose. You can breathe fine; you don’t need them. You don’t even need to be here.

“Hey, don’t…” The blur turns into a person. You can’t quite believe your eyes.

Sarah crosses the room and stops your eager fingers in their tracks, and upon looking at her worry-stricken face you realize that you did not just wake up alone; they called her, after all. Like you asked them to. And you’re not alone.

The monitor picks up speed. “Sarah,” you whisper.

“It’s me,” she says. “You’re okay. You’re at the hospital, but you’re okay.” From the sound of her voice, you can tell she’s been crying. Sarah never cries.

You smack your lips. “Uh, what… what happened?”

You know what happened, but you can’t see it. You can’t close your eyes and pull up a visual of the events because every time you do, you see nothing but darkness. Your memory isn’t working the way it should—nothing is.

She wipes her cheeks. Vulnerability seeps out of her pores like body odor. The pity in her eyes turns into knives to your chest. “Someone broke into your flat and… they attacked you,” she says. Her voice still has a certain edge to it. “Your lung collapsed, but they managed to put a needle in there and now you’re all better. You didn’t even need surgery, just a blood transfusion. I actually donated while I was waiting ‘cause it was killin’ me that it took them so long to fix you up.”

The needle would explain the pain in your lungs. You reach for her hand.

“When they called, I thought… God, I thought you were dead. I was so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“What were you thinking?” There it is, the anger. “You should’ve called the police.”

“I know, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking.”

Sarah raises her voice, “I almost lost you tonight!”

The echo drills into your ears. You flinch. The guilt hadn’t already been eating you alive, it certainly would start now. The burning behind your eyes returns, and this time, you don’t stand a chance. You try to blink them away, but it’s futile.

“I know, and I’m… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” You swallow.

“Does this have anything to do with Michael? Did he get you into this? ‘Cause if he did, I’m gonna kill that bastard.”

“No!” You try to sit up, but the sudden movement tears at the stitches in your side. Every nerve under your skin protests. You stretch, and it burns. With a grunt, you fall back against the mattress. “No,” you repeat. “He didn’t…”

This is what you were worried about. It crossed your mind before it happened that the person in your apartment might have been hired by the Kinsellas to steal the valuable information you collected; it was the only thing you had to fuel your agenda, and someone took it. You didn’t tell anyone but Michael, so it would make sense that his family had something to do with it, but after talking to Jimmy, you seriously doubt it. You almost died. If they wanted you dead, you would be dead. It’s a terrifyingly sober thought, but it’s the truth.

But if the Kinsellas aren’t behind it, someone else must have found out. Someone from your past, perhaps. And how do you tell the police that someone broke into your apartment not to steal money but to steal a mere paper file?

Sarah sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The police are going to want to talk to you,” she says, expertly changing the subject. “They said nothing seems to have been stolen, but they need your confirmation, and they’re hoping you can identify the man who did this to you.”

Again, you shake your head. “I didn’t see his face,” you admit.

“I figured, but I think they need to know who you’ve been associating yourself with.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Who I’ve been–” you grunt again when you move against the clear protest of your wound. “Who’s side are you on?” you ask her.

She looks so guilty, afraid to even meet your eyes.

“Michael’s family has nothing to do with this. Don’t ask me how I know, I just… I just know.”

“Then where is he, huh?” Her voice takes on a slightly accusatory tone. You’re not sure if it’s directed at you or Michael, but you’re not in the mood to have this conversation.

You shake your head. The lump in your throat is stuck. You can’t speak.

Sarah utters your name, but it only sets fire to the gasoline. “You almost died and Michael isn’t here,” she says. “Who knows, maybe it was him? You can’t know if you didn’t see his face! I mean, why are you protecting him and his family when he couldn’t even be bothered to be here?”

It hurts to hear her say that. It hurts to even imagine that scenario to be true. You know it isn’t, but she believes it, and that breaks your already shattered heart beyond repair.

“I’m not,” you choke out. “He has nothing to do with this. I…” You find yourself unable to speak, too caught up in the pain that spreads through your body and your soul.

You can see his face when you close your eyes, and God, you miss him.

“Then where is he?” she asks again. It’s almost as though she believes she has the whole thing figured out just because she was so worried about you. But she doesn’t.

You grit your teeth. A tear makes its salty path south. “We broke up!” you snap, your voice echoing across the room like a sharp arrow penetrating the sound barrier. “We had a fight and then I left, and that’s probably why he didn’t pick up because he was just as hurt as me, but–” You have to cut yourself off to catch a strangled breath. Your lungs barely have the same capacity they had before.

Sarah’s jaw slacks at the revelation. The words take a second to sink in, but when they do, it dawns on her like a gigantic shadow. Instead of an ‘I told you so’, she exhales shakily, “Oh.” Nothing else seems to come to her mind at that moment.

Your heart drums against your ribcage. You inhale, sitting further up to ease the pressure on your wound and calm your racing pulse that is starting to upset the monitor beside your bed.

Another pained groan passes your lips. “My gut is telling me his family isn’t behind this because whoever broke into my apartment was an idiot, and the Kinsellas are not,” you tell her. “You want to blame Michael for not being here? Fine! But he would never hurt me. Don’t… don’t say that.”

You begin to see it again; the blood on the dark floorboards transferring to your phone as you tried to dial his number with the last of your strength, but he didn’t pick up. He was the only person you could think of when you thought you were going to die, and he wasn’t there. He didn’t even come.

Finally, the lump lodges free in a devastating sob, landing like a burning meteor from the depth of your chest.

Sarah wraps her arm around your shaking shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

You don’t fight it; you bury your face in her chest, clinging to her instead of letting go. Pieces of drywall start coming off the borders around your heart. The sobs wreck your body with an intensity that could match the force of a landmine.

When you woke up, you were hoping, even if just for a second, Michael would be there to hold your hand. You would have given up your belief that the two of you were meant to be dysfunctional for a taste of the comfort you know only he can provide you. But it’s all just a fever dream, and he isn’t here.

You beg yourself to breathe through the inferno spreading from your wound to the remaining space of your chest cavity. This pain can’t easily be fixed by morphine or a high flow of oxygen. It’s a deep-rooted and emotional pain; everything around you becomes secondary.

The sobs wrack your body, but you can’t stop. You can't fight back against the avalanche heading for your town. You’ve lost everything. Trying to keep your head above water only pulled you further under. You can still feel the stranger's hands on your body, the sound of porcelain crashing to the floor. You were trying to steer off the inevitable like a fool, and in the process, you have made things a million times worse. Admitting defeat would lead to the demise of what you love, but what else can you do when the danger is no longer trying to hide, lying in wait?

The door swings open. A nurse steps in, and her eyes widen at the sight. “Heart rate and pulse ox are climbing,” you faintly hear her say. “She’s having a panic attack.”

You want to protest. You’re okay; you’re just crying, and they should take care of the ticking bomb next to your ear first. It beeps and beeps and beeps even louder. It takes you forever to notice that the bomb you’re hearing is actually your heart about to explode.

“Well, do something!” Sarah shrieks, her chest shaking under you. “She’s going to hurt herself.”

Someone calls your name, and they tell you something about a sedative, but your ears are under a thick stream of water. The sterile walls start to close in around you. You can feel your heart racing in your throat like you’re going to throw it up on a silver platter and everyone will see how damaged you truly are.

You thrash weakly, your lips moving without your mind’s approval. “No,” you sob. You don't want them to sedate you. “Please…” Your pleas meet an empty void.

The nurse swiftly prepares a syringe that, out of the corner of your eye looks almost like a loaded gun. You don't want to sleep. You can’t. You deserve this. “This will help you relax,” she says. “Just breathe, okay? We don't want your lung collapsing again.”

The needle doesn’t pierce your skin, but it might as well have. A sudden cool rush spreads through your veins. The world blurs at the edges, colors bleeding into each other until they turn black. Your sobs slow down. You try to scream, but every muscle in your body slacks against your will. The clock stops ticking. The wave catches up to you as you’re swimming away, and with jaws made of glass, the depths of the ocean finally take you under, eating you alive.

Someone whispers, “You’re going to be okay,” into the darkness, but the angel doesn’t have a face. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to hold on or keep floating. There is no beginning or end where you are. The ground is gone. It’s never going to end, you fear, drowning in your tears until you’re sucked into another black hole for the rest of your life.

You succumb to it. You let the current drag you down, and then, you drown.

You drown for the longest time, closing your eyes and accepting your fate. Until a hand dives into the water, searching for you. You blink, and you reach for it, not knowing who it belongs to but someone is trying to save you, so why not allow them to? An eerily familiar feeling fills you with warmth.

The closer you inch to the surface, the louder the real world around you gets. You hear the beeping again, steadier this time. Someone must have defused the bomb. And there is a soft touch against your forehead, fingertips grazing your burning skin. Your eyes flutter.

A soft baritone calls for you. It’s familiar, but the sensations around you are dulled to an extent you can barely feel your legs. You adjust to the light in the room, and the heaviness of your eyelids that seems to want to drag you back down. His silhouette is a blur, at first, but once you find those comforting brown eyes staring down at you with a river of tears inside, you recognize him, and you’re suddenly wide awake.

“Michael?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart contracts. Instead of conflict, all you feel is the sheer pleasure of relief when you see his face. His tired, beautiful face. And he’s real. He’s not a dream. You may not feel your body, but your mind is coming back to you, and you see him so clearly next to you, a sight for sore eyes and a balm for your broken heart.

He came.

A tear slides down his cheek, but he wipes it before you can comment on it. Your throat is dry. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bopping with the silence that engulfs you. The air crackles. You’re not sure how to react. Your entire body vibrates with a need you have never felt before, but how can you get over what happened? It’s right there between you; you can feel the tension that has spun a net between you, and it’s almost like your lungs are collapsing all over again.

But then Michael reaches out, his calloused fingers brushing your tear-stained cheek. “Yeah. I’m here,” he says. “I’m here, my love.”

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck with a broken exhale. He has never engulfed you faster, building a secure cocoon around you where nothing and no one can touch you. Your breaths are strangled. He wasn’t there before, but now he is, and it’s like you were never apart in the first place. Because you needed him like air, and he is the only one who knows how to make the pain go away because he knows you.

“You didn’t pick up,” you mutter against his sweater. I thought we were over, you want to say.

He nods, squeezing you tighter. Your stitches protest, but you ignore them. He can tear them open one by one if he pleases, as long as he just holds you. “I know,” he says, barely keeping it together. “I’m so sorry. I was… I was meetin’ with Jimmy, and… I turned it off. I turned it off.” His voice cracks. So much guilt can’t possibly fit into one person.

Your nails dig into his back. “It’s okay,” now you’re the one comforting him.

“No. If I’d known… Fuck! I thought… I thought I lost ya.”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael pulls away, eyes boring into yours. He cups your face. “Don’t do tha’,” he growls. “Don’t do this to yerself. It wasn’t your fault, I swear.”

You close your eyes. His gaze is so intense. He nudges you back to look at him. “Who did this to ya, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you confess. “I didn’t… I didn’t see his face. But he, uh… he stole the… the file. On my sister. And when I tried to stop him, he… he…”

“Wha’?” The look on his face is nothing short of terrifying, even as it blurs through your tears. “Did he touch you?” When he gets angry, his eyes tend to black out. It usually sends a chill down your spine, but tonight, you need him to look at you like that. You need him to be angry because anger is the strongest motivator, and you are too weak to display the true intensity of your feelings.

You motion to your throat with shaky fingers. “He ch–” The word refuses to come out. “Mhh–” You try to regulate your breathing. “He ch–choked me.”

You have not yet looked into a mirror, but the soreness suggests quite a bit of bruising. Sarah didn’t say anything. You went through hell and the most obvious injury, the wound on your side, seems bad enough to think about. They probably swabbed under your fingernails already to get what little DNA evidence you tried to gather by fighting back, but you have little hope that the assailant is to be found in any database. And he wore gloves, that much you know. You can still taste the leather. Talking about it makes you eerily sick to your stomach.

Another sob bubbles up in your chest; you choke on it. “And then he stabbed me,” you cry. “He stabbed me, and my lung collapsed, and… I thought I was going to die.”

Michael growls, physically forcing your face back into the crook of his neck.

“Don’t leave me.”

You were the first to leave, and it was a mistake. You regret it with your entire bruised being to have ever let him go. You’re not entitled to his love, but if he left you now, you know you wouldn’t survive—because losing him is worse than dying.

He presses your face further into the crook of his neck. “I’m not leavin’,” he says. “You’re safe now. No one’s gonna lay a hand on ya again.”

The words break the dam. “Please,” you beg, not knowing what for.

“Shhh,” he shushes you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” you ramble. “I was just sad and angry, and… we were both going through something. Hell, you told me about Anna and all I thought of doing was leave. I’m so fucking sorry, Michael. I don’t know how to make this up to you. I don’t…”

Michael tugs you back, seeing it as the only way you will listen to him. “Hey!” His fingers dig into your scalp. “It doesn’t matter, alright? I’m not angry. I… I thought I lost ya, and it almost killed me. I don’t care ‘bout one stupid fight. I don’t.” He chuckles softly, his eyes stained with tears again. “I care about you. I’m gonna fix this, you hear? Even if I have to kill the fuckin’ bastard who did this. God knows I want to. And I’m gonna get Anna back, too,” he says. “‘cause I’m still her father and I won’t let them take her from me. What I’m not gonna do is let you leave again without reason, so we’re gonna talk and we’re gonna find a way through this, alright? I promise you, so you have to promise me. Let me love you better. Please.”

Please. He breaks in your hand like wet sand struck by lightning. Though this time, you can’t pick up his broken pieces and glue him back together for it is his turn now to fix you. To love you better, as he said.

You wipe your cheek on the palm of his hand, and his thumb instantly darts out to take over. It’s so rough yet so gentle against your sensitive skin. “I promise,” you whisper then, only honesty on your cracked lips.

He lets go of your scalp to pull you back in. “That’s my girl,” Michael murmurs.

There is nothing quite as toxic as guilt, but you are each other’s antidote. You cling to him like a lifeline, and he clings to you. Where Sarah has gone, you’re not sure, but you also don’t care. She called him. She said horrible things about him, then saw your reaction, the sincere belief in his innocence and the love that is still very much there, and then she called him because there is no other way he could have found out. She called him because you didn’t need her; you needed Michael, and no drugs in the world could have changed that.

“C’mon, lie back.” You comply almost instantly with his demand, scooting aside to make space for him. The frame of the bed creaks in protest, but he seems to neither care about the hospital’s property nor his comfort as he urges you to rest against his chest. “The police are gonna ask questions,” he tells you, tugging the blanket further around your body. You only now realize that you’re freezing. “I told them you had to rest, so they’re gonna come by in the mornin’, but I assure ya, I’m gonna be there. And then Jimmy’s gonna take us home.”

You blink up at him. “Jimmy?” you ask. It’s the only thing that strikes you as odd. You suspected the police would come by, Sarah already told you the same thing, but Michael conspiring with his brother to get you out of here is a new development.

“Yeah. No one takes a shot at a Kinsella and gets away with it.”

“But I’m not–”

He cuts you off, “You are now.”

Your heart stops a beat in your chest before it starts racing a million miles per hour, so fast you can barely catch up.

It’s odd, all of it. His family expressed their disdain for you at great lengths just to retaliate back when your blood is shed, but instead of dread and overwhelming suspicion, you only feel terrifyingly content.

You’re a Kinsella now, Michael said, and what else can you do but embrace it?

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @ebathory997

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #kin rte #kin amc #x reader #charlie cox #chaos theory #tw: abuse

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makeitmingi · 1 year ago

Text

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 27]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

Warning(s): Reader skips meals because she's stressed

You entered the recording studio, turning on the lights and air conditioning. There was no one else around. You were excited, unable to sleep so you decided to come in early to set up. Mingi wasn't able to spend the night with you but he did message you his concerns about you not sleeping.

"Indigo? You're here early." Maddox poked his head in, his eyes wide as you set up your computer.

"So are you."

"That's assuming I just came to the studio." He yawned. That's when it clicked, Maddox hadn't gone home yet. The two of you burst out laughing in realisation.

"Are you that excited to record?" Maddox raised a judgemental eyebrow at you.

"So what if I am?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. He snickered, holding his hands up defensively, he didn't mean any offense.

"Ah, just go home already! Sleep! If Eden catches you, he's going to nag at you again." You waved him off.

"Yes, ma'am. Have fun with the sesh later." He saluted lazily and closed the door to take his leave. You guessed being night owls was just a habit of producers.

'Morning, baby. I hope you were able to get a but of sleep since we'll be working the whole day. I just woke up. It's quite early... Hongjoong hyung asked if you would like our manager to swing by and pick you on the way to the studio. - Mings'

'Uhhh, well... About that... *Photo attachment* - Indigo'

RINGGGGG

"Mingi said you're at the studio already?! Do you have any idea how early it is, Indi?"

"Yeah, I guess I was a little excited and couldn't sleep so I decided to come in early." You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, even if Hongjoong couldn't see you.

"Wow... Seriously... We should put a time lock at the KQ entrance, 'No Indigo is permitted to enter from 11pm to 9am."

"Sure, I'll agree to those rules when they do the same for you. Have a 'no Hongjoong from this time to this time'." You retorted. Hongjoong kept quiet, knowing you were right that he works late just like you. All the producers at some point would stay late or even work through the night. It was part of the job.

"She got you there, hyung."

"What are you even doing here?! Eavesdropping on my phone call? Get out!"

"You're so mean to the younger ones, Joong. Anyway, now that you guys know I'm here, you can hurry up and get your butts here to start the recording session." You said.

"Yeah, right. Yunho's still in bed. At this point, I just hope we're not late- Wooyoung! Get out of the bathroom and let Jongho wash up!"

"Seems like you got your hands full. I'll see you later, Joong." You chuckled, pulling the phone away from your ear when he was yelling at the members.

"Yes, get something to eat in the mean ti- San ah! Please go comb your hair!"

You hung up with a laugh as Hongjoong was yelling another member. Even in the morning, it was so chaotic at the dorm. You put your headphones on as you leaned back in the chair, listening to some music while you drank your coffee.

"Indigo, you're here already? And I thought I was early." Eden said, standing there in surprise. You removed your headphones and stood up, bowing your head.

"I think I was a little too excited about today." You chuckled in embarrassment.

"It's okay. Being excited is good, especially since this is the first time you're doing this." He laughed, sitting down beside you.

"I'll just be here to guide and give advice if you need it. You're the boss today. Also, I'll need to leave before lunch to work with Xikers' producers for their concert." Eden informed.

"Sure thing. Looking forward to working together today." You giggled and sat down.

After setting up and making sure the equipment was all working, the Ateez members came in. They all bowed, greeting you and Eden, some even coming up to hug the two of you. You giggled as Wooyoung clung to you tiredly while you rubbed his back comfortingly until Yunho pulled him back.

"Okay, I'm just here to help and guide Indigo since it's her first time recording with all of you. But she's the boss today, so be good and listen to her instructions." Eden said.

"Yes, hyung!" The 8 replied. Eden sat down, gesturing you to start with an encouraging smile.

"Thanks for coming in today. We'll do solo parts then group parts. Let's work hard today and have a successful session." You did a full bow them.

"Cute." Seonghwa chuckled with a smile.

"So before we start, let's listen to the track first." You said. Some pulled out their phones and some had paper to refer to their lyrics.

"Wait, here. We know you probably didn't eat anything." San said, placing a small ziploc on the table. There was a sandwich inside with some ham, egg and vegetables.

"Thank you." You softened. This just showed how much the boys knew you and your unhealthy habits. Eden looked at you with raised eyebrows, making you shrink back. Eden was also always making sure the producers were not skipping their meals and sleep.

"M-Maddox stayed the night to produce!" You blurted out. You mentally apologised to Maddox for exposing him but you needed to take the heat off you.

"I'll be speaking to you and Maddox soon." Eden clicked his tongue with a shake of his head.

"Let's get back to this. We have much to do!" You turned back to the monitor. You played the track with the guiding vocals.

Everyone had a serious, focused look on their face as they listening and vibed to the track in their own way. You opened your iPad to refer to the annotation notes that you had.

"Okay, so who is going first?" You turned to the Ateez boys.

"Even if I don't volunteer to go first, the kids will ask me to go first anyway." Hongjoong sighed.

"That's our captain! Good job. Anyway once you're done, you'll be sitting here with me and Eden." You patted his back, making him shoot you a glare. The others snickered but nodded in agreement. Hongjoong sighed and walked into the recording booth. He put the headphones on, opening his notebook.

"Testing. Joong, can you hear me?" You spoke into the microphone. He gave a thumbs up, adjusting the volume on the panel in front of him and the height of the microphone.

"Let's start with the introduction." You said. Hongjoong nodded and you began playing the section of the track for him.

"Sorry, I'll do it again." Hongjoong stopped rapping and spoke into the microphone, having stumbled over his words slightly. He had two lines in the introduction.

"Captain ah~ What are you doing?" Wooyoung spoke into your mic, snickering.

"Yah! Jung Wooyoung! Don't make me smack you!" The leader threatened. You all watched him do some mouth exercises.

"Ready." He said.

"Let's go." You replied and played the same section for him. When he was done, you paused the track and played it back for everyone to listen. You increased the volume to listen to it more intently.

"Eden?" Before offering your comments, you turned to the senior. Hongjoong waited patiently for the comments.

"Instead of 'yeah!' being a one note shout, can we try doing 'yeahhh'? So drag it out a little more and up." Eden suggested. You and Hongjoong nodded, him using his pen to make note of it on his lyric sheet, before trying it out.

"It's better." You said after listening to the second round of playback. Everyone else nodded in agreement.

"Okay, moving to the rap section." You instructed. You played Hongjoong's section of the rap portion and he began rapping out the lyrics that he wrote.

"Woo! Woo! Go captain!" The others jumped up and began dancing around, hyping Hongjoong up.

"Kids, you're going to distract him." Seonghwa settled them down.

"Playback." You announced and everyone obediently quietened down, sitting back in their seats so you and Hongjoong could monitor the rap he just recorded.

"Eden?" You turned to him again.

"Indigo ah. This is your recording. Go with your instinct and perspective, share your opinion freely. Don't rely on me." Eden advised. You nodded, knowing that Eden didn't mean that in a rude way. He wanted you to learn how to do this on your own and to be independent with it.

"Okay... You're rushing through the second bar. Let's go again." You said. Hongjoong nodded and got ready to go again. You felt awkward giving such critiques.

"Indigo ah. Don't worry about hurting our feelings and all that, okay? Just speak your mind." Yeosang comforted.

"Yes, we're tougher than you think. So don't feel bad." Mingi added.

You continued the recording with Hongjoong. He didn't need to record too many times, the two of you mainly shared the same view points so it was quick to earn a satisfactory recording from him.

"Next victim." Hongjoong said before putting the headphones back onto the holder to exit the recording booth.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" The vocalists gathered to play.

"Argh!" Wooyoung crumbled as he lost. He walked into the recording booth while Hongjoong sat at the table with you and Eden. From the look on Hongjoong's face, you knew that he was out for revenge against Wooyoung.

"Don't let him bully me, Indigo!" Wooyoung said as he got the set up ready for his recording. You just laughed as Hongjoong snatched the microphone from you.

"You're going to pay, Jung Wooyoung." Hongjoong said. You smacked his arm, making him glare at you.

"Let's start with the hook." You took the microphone back.

The subsequent members went through the same process. Eden left halfway for his other meeting as you all took a break for lunch. Ateez managers' bought ox bone soup for everyone.

"Thank you." You received your box of food, which had the soup, rice and some side dishes.

"Eat well. You need as much energy as you can get." The manager smiled.

"I will." You bowed and put your food down at the table where the other members were sat. You went to your studio to get your phone charger and seat cushion.

"Hi there." Someone hugged you. You turned around to smile up at Mingi. He swept the hair away from your face while you tip toed to kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him. You practically melted into his touch, cheek pressing against his chest. Mingi repeatedly kissed your head.

"My hard working baby."

"Only half the day is gone, we still got more people to get through, including you. Is it normal to already feel tired?" You chuckled.

"Don't feel like you need to rush or push yourself. We can always come back another day to continue, it has happened multiple times before." Mingi assured.

"It's been going well though. Everyone's a hard worker. I don't want to break the flow." You said.

"Still... I don't want you falling ill." Mingi was uncertain.

"We should head back before they suspect that we're gone for too long." You told him. As much as you didn't want to leave Mingi's embrace, you had to. You didn't want to expose things today.

"Yeah, I told them I was going to the washroom. I'll help you carry that." Mingi held your seat cushion for you.

"Thanks, Mings." You walked beside him back to where the others were.

"Come and eat before the soup gets cold." Jongho waved the two of you over. You sat down between Seonghwa and Hongjoong while Mingi took his usual seat beside Yunho. You all had shared some light conversations while you ate.

"Tha'ts it. I'm full, I can't eat anymore." You pushed your food in. Seonghwa looked through your leftovers, frowning slightly at how much food you had left.

"You should eat more." He said.

"I think after this is over, I'll have my appetite back. I just don't have the appetite right now." You sighed.

"It's okay." Seonghwa reached up to pat your head, not wanting to chastise you when you were obviously stressed now. Yunho handed you a jelly drink.

"Have this instead." He smiled. You smiled gratefully and started having the jelly instead. You leaned your head against Hongjoong.

"Don't stress." Hongjoong said as he chewed.

"Wah, you're seriously terrible at comforting people, hyung." San scoffed at Hongjoong, making the whole table laugh. Across the table, Mingi couldn't help the worry he was feeling for you. Yunho, having noticed Mingi's expression, cleared his throat and hit his best friend's thigh under the table.

"Those who are done, clear up and let's continue." Hongjoong commanded. Seonghwa, who helped you finish your food, brought your containers to the bin along with his own.

"Ugh." You groaned, head rolling against Hongjoong's back. He laughed at how you were acting, like a little sister trying to annoy her big brother.

"What's wrong?"

"How do you think it's been going so far? Am I too critical or acting like a perfectionist?" You asked.

"Not at all, Indi. You're doing very well despite it being your first time. Being critical is what we want and need in this process. It helps us make the best track possible." Hongjoong said.

"You have to tell me if I'm overdoing it, okay? Just stop me and tell me honestly." You raised your head to look at him.

"We won't take things to heart, we know it's all work. We separate our work and personal feelings."

"I know..." You sighed.

"I'll be next to you the entire time. Ready to go back?" Hongjoong asked. You nodded and waited for him to clear up his used tableware before going back to the studio with him. The others were ready to continue as well.

"After the solo parts, we'll do the group vocals and group backgrounds. Adlibs and the individual background vocals will be done another day." You informed.

"Good plan." Mingi smiled. The others agreed. Seonghwa was next to go into the booth.

"What do you want to start with?" You asked.

"Let's just go in order. So verse 1." He replied, doing some vocal warm up exercises. You waited for him to give the thumbs up before playing his section.

"Sorry to interrupt, Hwa. But I think you need to take the note higher." You stopped him.

"Sure, sorry about that. One more time." He said through the mic. After that, you all listened to the playback recording.

"Do the last part again. Focus on the enunciation of the words. It sounds like you're fading out." Hongjoong spoke into the mic before you could. He probably could sense that you were holding back or trying to make your comments nicer since it was Seonghwa in the booth. You punched his arm.

"Don't be mean." You scolded with a pout.

"I'm not being mean. You're just being overly nice because it's Seonghwa." Hongjoong clicked his tongue. You didn't deny nor agree, turning back to your computer.

"It's okay, Indigo. I'll run it again. And don't hold back on your comments, alright?" Seonghwa spoke to you.

"Fine..." You replied. You scrolled the track back to the same section. While Seonghwa sang, you increased the volume to hear him better.

"That's better. We'll move to the bridge next." You said.

When Seonghwa was done with his parts, it was San's turn. Having done more guide recordings with San before, you were a little bit more familiar with him compared to the others.

"Ready when you are, San. Take it slow and don't rush into it." You remined through the mic, knowing that he had a habit of rushinginto his sections of the song because he was nervous. It wasn't a bad thing, everyone has their own quirks when it came to recording.

"Yes, ma'am!" San saluted.

"Cute." You chuckled and played his section. You listened to him sing into the microphone.

"I know it's whisper-y but don't stumble over the words. Let's do it again." You critiqued. San nodded and recorded again, applying your corrections immediately.

"That was so much better. Get a drink, we're moving to the hook now." You informed. You layered Wooyoung's voice over to cue San into his part. He caught the timing well and began singing.

"Sorry, I'll do it again." San stopped himself when he made a mistake. You hummed and replayed it for him.

Honestly there was nothing for you to worry about. The boys were just as critical about themselves as you were. They caught their own mistakes quickly and would request to redo it if they were not satisfied with what they recorded. It really showed how serious and passionate they were.

"Alright, Mings, you're next." You said as Yeosang returned from the recording booth. It was decided that Mingi would go next and end off with Jongho.

"Can you hear me, Mings?" You spoke into the microphone.

"Yes. Woo! Let's go!" Mingi yelled into the microphone to hype himself up and get the vibe going. You couldn't help but smile.

"He's always so energetic in the booth." Yunho chuckled. You played Mingi's rap section, listening to him rap while he referred to the lyrics he wrote on his phone.

"I'll do it again~" He said, not even wanting to listen to the playback from the first run.

"Playback." You paused the music and played the recording.

"There seems to be some timing issues between the two sub sections. Let's go again, make sure to pace yourself with the music and different timings." You told him.

"Sure, I'll take note of it." Mingi said. You were trying to be objective and cool as you watched Mingi rap, not wanting to fangirl over the fact that he was your lover. He was so charismatic and his deep voice was so nice to listen too.

"Alright, Jongho. You're up." You finished Mingi's part, arranging his raw vocals over the instrumental.

"Save the best for the last." Wooyoung an affectionate smack to Jongho's bum, making the maknae turn to glare at him. The older yelped and ducked behind Seonghwa.

"Let's breeze through this, Jongho ah." Hongjoong said.

"Don't do that and put unnecessary pressure on him." You scolded, making sure the mic was off so Jongho couldn't hear.

After song camp, you felt a lot more for Jongho. You wanted him to feel comfortable in the recording booth, not make him feel like he always has to be perfect.

"That was a really good take. Let's move on to the chorus." You were a lot more encouraging with him but you weren't babying him, knowing that he doesn't like that. But this session just proved how amazing Jongho was, his vocal ability was unmatched. You were truly amazed by him.

"Indigo has that look on her face, like you've been enlightened by Jongho's vocals." San teased.

"He's truly amazing, isn't he?" Hongjoong smiled proudly, leaning back in his seat. He reminded you of a proud dad whose son just got praised.

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