#simple home for a depressed noah

[wooziorgans]

hi noah , im back here again , so its winter.....and i need hybernation .....with jihoon..............

i have some thoughts wanna elaborate it?

— baby, it’s cold outside!

genre: pure tooth rotting fluff. a little angsty if u squint. a little suggestive.

warnings: reader has (kind of) seasonal depression. soft jihoon hours. extraordinarily sleepy reader. clingy jihoon. he’s a little bit worried about reader. long haired jihoon bcs i miss his long hair so much. mentions of jihoon’s dick being out and about. having comfort food and hot chocolate w jihoon. reader gets a little teary eyed (out of love).

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hiiii im back from my little break. probably. i miss long haired uji sooo much this is super self indulgent. hope this is sufficient enough for hibernation.

when jihoon gets home, it’s only just after six in the evening. all things considered, it’s quite early for him to be home. but it’s winter, and it’s cold. and he knows how you get when the weather is like this.

the television is on, but jihoon doesn’t hear your voice at the sound of the door closing. when he walks around to the couch he sees you curled up, soft puffs of air leaving your lips, lashes resting against your cheeks. you’re out cold, which is a little shocking considering jihoon had texted you only twenty minutes earlier to let you know he was on his way home and you responded.

he’s been making more of an effort to come home earlier. you need him more in the colder seasons; something well established even before you were dating. it’s your first winter together, and there’s nothing jihoon loves more than coming home out of the cold to you and your warmth.

jihoon crouches down, knees cracking softly as he carefully brushes his thumb over your cheek. you stir softly, eyebrows furrowed as you slowly wake up. jihoon waits for you to open your eyes before he speaks. “hey. you fell asleep in your work clothes.” all he gets in response is a tired grumble and a soft whine. “let’s go get you changed, baby.”

you whine again, pouting at him softly. “jus’ wanna sleep.” you murmur. jihoon chuckles softly as your hand comes up to grab at his arm.

“i know, baby. i know, but if you sleep now you won’t be able to sleep tonight. ‘n then you’ll be all grumpy tomorrow and we can’t have that.” he coos at you softly. jihoon hardly ever babies you. he firmly believes that you’re an adult and you don’t need it, but when you’re like this he gives in. when you’re like this, you need him to speak to you with a softer tone and look at you with gentle eyes.

you huff, not out of annoyance, just a simple deep breath. you roll onto your back, taking a moment to breathe deeply before you force yourself to sit up. jihoon helps, hand on the small of your back instead of your cheek. he stands, giving you a moment to gather your bearings before he offers you a hand.

you take it, and he pulls you up carefully, pulling you to his chest for a moment to hold you. you melt into him, sighing deeply as you breathe in his scent. he smells like vanilla and lavender, warm and comforting with a soft floral undertone that’s so distinctly him. it wakes you up a little bit more.

jihoon has half the mind to carry you to the bedroom as you stumble over your feet, down the hall to your shared room. he doesn’t, though, just holds your hand firmly as he guides you. he guides you to the bed, carefully helping you sit down. he rummages through your drawers, already knowing the kind of pyjamas you like to wear in this kind of weather.

he pulls out a pair of fluffy pyjama pants with little pictures of reindeer and trees printed onto the fabric. he then moves to the closet, not even blinking as he grabs one of his own hoodies for you to wear.

he returns to you, and you lift your arms for him to remove the shirt you wore to work. there’s this incredibly fond and tender smile on his lips, and suddenly you feel shy. jihoon doesn’t bat an eye as he looks at your bare chest, just slips the hoodie over your head and fixes your hair after he pulls the hood from your head.

you manage to get your pants off on your own, that shyness making it impossible to let him do the task at hand. you let him pulls the soft pyjama pants up your leg though. still, he can tell that you want to be the one to pull them over your ass, and he lets you.

once you’re all taken care of and comfy, jihoon reruns to the dresser to change out of his clothes. you stare at him as he removes his hoodie, pulling on one that’s not quite as warm. his socks come off next, as do his pants and then his boxers. at this point, his back is to you, and the view of his ass makes your mouth water, but you have far too little energy to be horny right now.

still, you can’t help but stare as he turns slightly to the side, cock swinging as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. jihoon returns to the bed, standing over you. there’s a warm flush to your face, and he knows you’re trying to hide it. jihoon holds the back of your head as he leans down to kiss your forehead. his fingers card through your hair, scratching softly at your scalp. you preen softly, pushing your face into his neck.

jihoon just chuckles at you softly. you pull away to look up at him at the sound of his laugh. there’s a soft pout on your lips, and jihoon can’t resist tipping your head up and kissing you softly. you hum against his lips, a soft smile forming as he kisses you softly incredibly softly.

“c’mon sweetheart. i’ll order us some food.” jihoon pushes his knee in between your legs. you open them for him and he stands between them before he leans down to scoop you up. you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carries you back to the couch. you push your face into his neck as he uses his knee to push the plush ottoman to the couch.

jihoon sits on the couch with you falling into his lap. your legs fall to his sides, straddling him. “long day?” he asks softly, hand holding your hip as the other rubs your back under the fabric of his hoodie on you. you hum, nodding against his neck. he reaches for his phone, which he had left on the couch when he got home to order food.

you and jihoon have morphed into each other. his favourite foods have become yours; a new affinity for white rice, how you reach for a coke zero instead of pepsi, the way you now cook extra chicken, savouring the taste of protein just as much as he does. he doesn’t even need to ask what you want to eat tonight, knowing you’re in need of some good comfort food.

the spring rolls and cutlets added to his cart with extra white rice, knowing it’s exactly what you want right now. deep fried wontons as an extra treat. “how about i make us some hot chocolate once the food gets here?” he asks, and you hum again, nodding with a little more energy.

“that would be nice. please.” you mumble, kissing the skin of his neck in appreciation. you can feel the sudden fullness of his cheek against your head. you know he’s smiling, teeth on display and eyes shaped into crescents. you pull away from his neck to look at him.

he flashes the screen of his phone to you once you’re looking at him. “anything else you want?” he asks softly, squeezing your hip gently.

“literally all i want right now is to cuddle.” you mutter, bringing a hand up to his cheek to feel his skin. jihoon places the order on food before he sets his phone down. he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, taking your hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“that, i can do.” he breathes out. the heat that spreads across your face once again has the soft smile returning to jihoon’s face. he adores you. all the time, but especially when you’re this bashful and shy.

you hold his hand, squeezing softly as you interlace your fingers with his. “thank you,” you whisper softly, “for ordering food tonight even though i was supposed to cook.” you can’t look at him as you say it.

“you’re exhausted, baby. anything to lighten the load. always.” jihoon’s large brown eyes sparkle at you. you feel a sudden bubble of emotions forming in your chest at his words. despite their simplicity, you know they’re much more loaded.

i’ll take the burden for you if it means you get to conserve your energy. i’ll clean up if it means you get to rest. i’ll take care of you if it means you get to relax. you’re safe with me. you’re home with me. “i love you.” you whisper, eyes shining with small tears.

“i love you too, so much. i know today was rough, but you did so good. i want you to rest now, okay? let me do the work now.” jihoon’s hand moves up from your back to your face as he cradles it in his hand. “hey, don’t cry. you’re safe with me, baby. i promise.” his thumb brushes under your eye, wiping away the single tear that falls.

“‘m sorry.” you whisper, pushing your face back into his neck.

“don’t apologize, love. you’ve done nothing wrong.” jihoon’s not great with dealing with other people’s emotions, but he’s able to calm you down in an instant. you nod against his neck, shifting down his legs. he knows what cuddling position you want to be in now. he slides down the couch with you, reaching over to grab a pillow to put behind his head.

with both of your legs spanned over the ottoman, jihoon spreads his. you lay your head on his stomach, arms wrapping around his midsection as you play with the fabric of his hoodie. his hand finds your hair, brushing it back from your face. “how long until food gets here?” you ask softly. there’s a new air in your voice, and the small crying session you had makes you a little more alert.

“thirty minutes. did you eat at work today?” he asks, gently playing with your hair.

“mhm, but i’m hungry.” you giggle quietly as you look up at him. it seems you’ve also adopted his large appetite, though you’re not as big of an eater as he is.

you stay in this position until the food arrives, though you’re both incredibly comfortable and reluctant to pull away from each other. the food on the other side of the door is enticing enough for you to crawl off of him and into a sitting position as he pecks your lips softly with a sweet promise of being right back.

the paper bag of takeout containers falls into your lap and jihoon gives you another quick peck. “i’ll make us hot chocolate. you can eat.” he pads off to the kitchen, the soft thump of his feet against the linoleum floor comforting. still, you wait for him to return before you start to dig in.

jihoon is back in no time, though it seems like forever, with two cups of steaming hot chocolate. he hands you your cup, grabbing the tray table that sits in corner of the room for you to have a stable surface to set your drinks on.

you wait until he’s seated beside you to take a sip of your drink. the smooth whipped cream on the top, the chocolate shavings on top and the hot-but-not-too-hot temperature of the warm milk mixed with powder is comforting. it fills your body with warmth as you sip on it. jihoon drinks from his own cup, glancing over at you for silent approval.

you hum in delight, a small ring of cream around your lips. jihoon laughs softly, tipping your head up to kiss it off you. you melt into him, eyes fluttering shut as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear with your free hand. he, in turn, melts into you, trying to place his mug on the side table. he does so successfully, taking yours from you to set it beside his. with both of your hands free, jihoon cups your face gently, thumb brushing over your jaw as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

jihoon’s mouth is warm, laced gently with the sweetness of chocolate and cream as he kisses you. typically, these warm, comfy moments lead to soft love making. it’s too early in the evening, and as much as you want to relish in the feeling of jihoon, you simply don’t have the energy tonight. both of you are perfectly content with the soft make out over a cup of hot chocolate. jihoon is more than happy to simply kiss you until all of the weight of the day melt off of you.

your hand grabs at his hoodie weakly as he bites at your bottom lip. you’re so compliant to him, willing to do whatever if it means you simply get to be close to him. jihoon loves you, love the softness of your body as his hand slips under the loose waistband of your pyjama pants— not with the purpose of initiating anything; simply to squeeze the fat on your hip and smooth his hand over the swell of your ass.

you both pull away, panting. the cream is gone from your lips, both of you forgetting why you even kissed each other in the first place. jihoon grabs a few blankets from the corner of the couch, separating himself from you for only a moment as he spreads the over both of your laps. he pulls you close to him, cracking open the take out containers so you both can start eating.

hot chocolate forgotten, you finish most of the food that jihoon ordered while a show plays on the television that neither of you are paying attention to. he slips away, yet again and much to your dismay, to put it in the fridge. he’s back in no time, right next to you once again as you curl into his side. jihoon wraps an arm around you, pulling your head onto his chest. your ear rests right over his heart before you readjust your position so you can finish your respective drinks.

the shaved chocolate, both milk chocolate and white, have melted into the cream. it sticks to your lips as jihoon reaches for his own cup. he takes a long sip, crossing his legs as you throw one of yours over his. his thighs are muscular under your own, and your free hand rests against his knee.

you’re warm, both from the hot chocolate and jihoon’s body heat. the blankets over top of you only add to the warmth, but there’s something else bubbling under the surface. another kind of warmth, something deep within your chest. something specific to jihoon. love.

hot chocolate finished, your cups find their place back on the side table. jihoon turns on his hips to face you, throwing a leg over yours. the television drones on, but both of you are too caught up in each other to pay any attention to it. jihoon pulls you into his chest, kissing your forehead softly. his hair falls into your face, but you don’t mind.

you nuzzle into his neck, face pressing against a soft vein in his neck. you can feel his heart beating through the vein, and you only press your nose into it more. all of that exhaustion from an hour ago is gone; obsolete as you focus on jihoon and jihoon only.

he’s never outright with his affectionate for you, but when you’re like this, he clings to you a little more. he does a little more work for you to be able to save your energy for the next day. you’ve never felt so loved. even in the greys of winter, jihoon remains so incredibly vibrant to you.

you know that, even if you’re cold and tired, jihoon will brave the storm with you. he’ll always keep you warm.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Thirty One[FINALE]

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

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

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: After over a year of writing this story, we finally are at the end. I have so many things to say yet I think I will bask in the moment for a little bit before I bore you with my emotions. So please take this for now: Thank you all so fucking much for your endless love and support for this silly little fic. It started off as a simple request(i hope you're still around 🎧 ). But it brought me so many friendships. I owe you all so much. Forever grateful for every single one of you.

My inbox will forever be open if you want to talk about the finale. 🖤

Huge thank you to my loves @blueskylinesx and @artificialbreezy for your endless support and helping me with the vows. I love you both immensely.

Angel and Mochi forever. 🪽🍡

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @happi-goth @dsireland86 @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-mee @respectfulrebel @malerieee @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @sideeyenoah @bellaboo967 @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @amelia-acero @karenfrancoespinosa-blog @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @supersquirrel1996 @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

READER

ONE MONTH LATER.

“Noah,” I choked out while gazing up at the familiar home with tears filling my eyes. 

He stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist and his chin resting on top of my head. We both swayed with the sudden rush of wind which caused Noah to hold me tighter, bringing the warmth from his body to my own. 

“Are you mad?” He asked. 

I couldn’t remove my eyes from the SOLD sign on the front yard of the familiar house and the key Chase was dangling in front of my face with a shit eating grin. A month ago on that night underneath the fairy lights, Noah proposed with the ring hanging on Kuma’s new collar. When I found the ring and looked over at Noah that night, he said two simple words. 

“Marry me.” 

I accepted before he finished the words, nearly tackling him to the ground. We connected that night underneath the fairy lights, his cock slowly dragging in and out of me while I rocked my hips up into him. Afterwards, we lay together tangled underneath the stars with the blanket barely covering us as we talked about our wedding plans. Our conversation during our many 2pm Facetime calls was something we both remembered fondly. 

With a hesitant sigh, I nodded. "Japan is just such an important place to me, for several reasons. I have this little fantasy that I’d run off and get married there. It's so peaceful and quiet with my closest friends and family. One and done romance type shit."

Noah stiffened while scratching his chin.

"What? I freak you out, girlfriend?" | joked with a teasing smirk.

He chuckled nervously. "No. I- uh, who's the groom?"

"I don't know, never got that far. It's always been the small child in me's dream."

It took some time with many nights of wondering if I was worthy enough but I found my groom. 

So when we broke the news to everyone two days later, wanting to bask in it privately beforehand, we told everyone that we’d be getting married in Japan. But with the future shows both Bad Omens and Hollow Souls had planned, we knew we would either have to push off the wedding for a couple years or get married before the shows. 

Now, a month later, all of us were in Japan for our wedding that was happening in a few days. It wasn’t anything big and lavish, something small with our family; some old and some new. 

“You bought my dad’s house?” I asked while peering over my shoulder at him. 

Noah turned me around so I could face him head on and pressed my hands against his chest, the diamond on my left ring finger catching the light of the setting sun.

“I contacted a realtor shortly after we left about buying your dads house. It didn’t feel right letting it go to someone else. Your dad lived here for half of his life, Y/N. It deserves to stay in the family,” he explained. 

I blew out a shaky breath while resting my head against his shoulder, those strong arms wrapping around me yet again. 

“Thank you.” 

Noah brushed his lips over my forehead. “You’re not mad I bought a house without asking you? Especially your dad’s house?” 

“Not at all. I was at a dark point in my life the last time we were here that all I wanted was to forget about this place. But I’m so thankful you bought it,” I slipped my hands up his sweater over his stomach, grazing my nails over the warm skin. 

Chase stepped into my view as my face was buried into Noah’s chest and he was twirling the key around his finger. “We replaced most of the furniture you had sold before you put it up on the market. Noah hired a paint crew to come through and put a fresh coat everywhere. It’s like a new house but still has the old bones of when your dad lived here, if that makes sense.” 

Stepping out of Noah’s embrace, I pulled Chase in for a hug while smushing his face into my chest and kissed the top of his head which due to how tall he was made it difficult. 

“I love you, bud.” 

He grumbled under his breath while pushing me back into Noah’s embrace and adjusting his messed up shirt. Even with his teasing, I could see the love in his bright blue eyes. 

“Keep it up and you’re walking yourself down the aisle,” Chase taunted and then turned on his heels to walk over to Malcolm, who had been unloading the rental car. 

As the two of them shared a kiss, I called out to them while Noah and I continued to stand on the front step of our new home. 

“I’m going to drag you guys down the aisle with me if I have too!” 

Noah chuckled, brushing a kiss across my lips. “I can’t believe we’re getting married.” 

“I know!” I giggled while wrapping my hands behind his neck. “Do you think we kind of jump the gun, though? We don’t have a venue. The only thing we have planned is my dress, your outfit, and the bridal party.” 

“About that,” he sprawled his hands over my lower back as everyone else moved around us, bringing in their suitcases into the house. 

It was decided that we all would stay here because we had plenty of space. 

“How would you feel about getting married in the backyard? I know it might not be your dream wedding but I just thought it would be perfect. Lots of space for all of us, privacy fence so no one can spy on us, and the girls already have an idea on how to decorate it. If you’re alright with that. We don’t want you to feel pressured-.” 

I placed a hand over Noah’s mouth to stop his rambling. “Mochi, you know you ramble when you’re nervous?” 

He nodded as I continued. “We could literally get married in the bedroom with just us two and it would be my dream wedding.” 

Matt suddenly appeared over Noah’s shoulder. “Technically it wouldn’t be legal unless you had someone who was ordained.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let my hand drop from Noah’s mouth only to link my fingers with his as we began slowly walking up the rest of the way towards the front door with Matt. 

“Speaking of being ordained, did you do what you needed to?” Noah asked. 

“Yes. I am officially ordained in Japan,” Matt wore a big smile. “So I get to marry my best friends.” 

“How’s Dove feeling?” I asked while motioning towards Matt’s cousin, who was off to the far side of the yard with Faye, having their own conversation. 

“She’s okay, might take some time but she’ll get there,” Matt nodded while stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I appreciate you guys letting her come, given you don’t really know her.” 

Noah waved him off. “Dove is your cousin, Matt. Which means she’s family, just like you.” 

“I’ve always watched out for her when we were growing up so whatever I can do to protect her, I’ll do it.” 

Once Matt left us to run towards Faye and Dove, I felt Noah squeeze my hand which caused me to gaze over at him with furrowed brows. 

“Did your mom ever call you back?” He wondered. 

I scoffed, doing my best not to let the anger I felt festering inside of me not ruin the whirlwind high we’d been feeling since our proposal last month. 

“Nope. I left her a voicemail all three times that I called her to tell her what’s going on,” I answered. 

Noah’s shoulders fell. “Does that make you upset?” 

“Honestly?” I shrugged. “Not really. She’d never been around for any other big moments of my life. I have everyone here that’s important to me. That’s all that matters.” 

With a smile, he motioned towards the house behind me. “Are you ready to go inside?” 

“Oh,” I muttered as my shoulders fell because I realized that this would be the first time I stepped inside my dad’s place since his funeral. 

Well, now I guess it would be our house.

Glancing over my shoulder to the front door less than a few feet in front of us, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. Chase and Noah mentioned that it was basically a new house inside with a fresh coat of paint and new furniture. Deep down I knew that even though everything was new inside, my dad’s spirit would be lingering there. 

“Yeah,” I finally nodded while looking back at him. “I’ve been telling myself it’s a fresh start, ya know?” 

With a tender kiss to my hand, Noah led me through the front door as we took the first step together towards our future. 

READER

“What the fuck!? JOE!” I yelled while pushing away from the table and running towards the familiar face that had just walked into the ramen restaurant. 

Joe broke out in laughter as I nearly tackled him to the ground. “Hey kid.” 

All of us were having a little makeshift rehearsal dinner at a ramen place that my dad loved the night before the wedding. We all made plans for when Bad Omens, ERRA, and Hollow Souls played Inkarceration. Then spent most of the night reminiscing on past memories. Every so often, I’d catch Noah looking at his phone before letting his gaze linger on the door of the restaurant but never thought much of it. I’d been in a deep conversation with Dove as she talked about what happened when she was on the road a month ago. 

“What the hell are you doing in Japan?” I asked Joe after pulling away from our hug. 

“Oh you know, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d come by to say hello,” he playfully smirked. 

I rolled my eyes as I felt Noah walk up beside me, giving Joe a handshake. “Thanks for coming. I know it was kind of last minute.” 

Joe waved Noah off. “All good. Thank you guys for the invite.” 

My stomach dropped when I realized from the craziness of the last month, I’d forgotten to invite one of my good friends. Forever thankful that Noah thought of it, I rose on my toes to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“You thought of everything, huh?” I breathed in his ear. 

Noah looked at me, something mischievous in his ember eyes. “You have no idea, angel.” 

Dragging both Joe and Noah back to the table, we all eased back into the dinner and every so often I’d feel Noah squeeze my thigh before inching his fingers up closer to my core. With the amount of people in the house, we decided that we would hold off on sex until our wedding night. 

Needless to say, both of us were extremely wound up but I kept telling myself that it would all be worth it in two nights' time when we finally had the house to ourselves.  

Once we all finished dinner, we all piled out of the restaurant with a suggestion from Nicholas to check out the local market in town. While most of the group dispersed in their own directions, Noah and I found ourselves alone for the first time in hours. 

“I’m so stuffed,” Noah groaned while rubbing a hand over his stomach. 

I wrapped my arms tighter around him while burying my face into his chest as we walked down the market block in Japan. 

“Are you happy you finally got your real ramen?” I teased while poking his chest. 

With a playful roll of his eyes, Noah brushed a kiss along my forehead as we walked through the crowds of people that gathered at the market. Earlier before dinner, I’d bought about four different mangas that had characters on the cover that looked like Noah, something he made sure to grumble about. 

“How the hell does this Yamada guy look like me?” He asked, utterly confused while holding up one of the mangas. 

I snatched it from him, holding it close to my chest. “I bet if I found a picture of you with this exact hair cut and did a side by side comparison, you’d see I’m right. Too bad you cut your hair yesterday.” 

Noah’s hair had been unruly lately so with the wedding coming up, he’d shaved the ends while still keeping the levi cut up top. Even though I'd always love his longer hair, I had to admit he looked absolutely gorgeous this way as well. 

“Y/N, look,” Noah pulled us to a stop, his arms around my shoulder, and pointed in front of us. 

Following his long finger, my eyes landed on a familiar older figure standing at one of the book tents in the market. 

“It’s older you!” I squealed, a little too loudly. 

The older gentleman looked over towards us at my outburst and when the look of remembrance crossed his face, he gave us a small wave. 

“Well, look who it is!” Older Noah smiled while walking over to us. “What are the odds I’d run into you guys in Japan?” 

Throughout the years, this was the third time we’d run into the older gentleman and his wife. The first time at the coffee shop back when Bad Omens and Hollow Souls toured together, the second time when Noah and I spent the afternoon at the pier where he bought me ice cream, and now here in Japan. Yet it was then that I noticed he was alone. 

“Ah, yes,” Older Noah tapped the book against his chest when he noticed me looking around. “My Allie passed away a month ago.”

Both Noah and I sucked in a breath, something the older one waved off. “Please, no pity. She lived a good and long life before the Alzhiemers took her.”

“Are you in Japan alone?” Noah wondered. 

“No,” the older one shook his head before adjusting his glasses. “My granddaughter, Lori is around here somewhere. What brings you two to Japan?” 

Noah linked my hand in his and brough the ring up to his lips, peppering it in kisses. “We’re getting married.” 

Older Noah’s eyes lit up at the news. “Well, good for you two! I still remember seeing you two in that coffee shop so long ago. The love in your eyes when you looked at her.” 

A crimson hue covered Noah’s face and I giggled while swinging our hands together. 

“I can’t explain it,” Old Noah began while flipping through the book he always seemed to have with him. “Something told me that I’d be running into you two again and soon which is why I made sure to bring this book with me. I read it to my Allie almost every night since it was her favorite.” 

Through the hustle and bustle of the market crowd, we barely could hear the soft sob that fell from Older Noah’s lips before he continued. “Since there’s no use for it anymore, I think I’ll give it to you two as a wedding gift.” 

Noah shook his head. “We can’t. That book means a lot to you-.” 

“Nonsense,” Older Noah smiled. “Please take it. My Allie would want you to have it.”

Gently I took the old book from his shaking hands and immediately brought it to my chest. “Thank you, Noah. You barely know us but for you to trust us with something so special to you, means a lot.” 

He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his tan coat. “You two remind me of me and Allie when we were young.” 

My Noah pressed a kiss to the side of my head and pulled me into his chest. “Do you have any advice for us to make our marriage last as long as yours did?” 

Older Noah gave us a faint smile while someone from behind him waved after him, calling his name. 

“The second you stop loving each other and pretending that your love story isn't real is when one of you starts to think you’re not worthy of the other.”

Just as a young woman tapped her hand on Older Noah’s shoulder, Michael appeared next to me, almost out of breath. 

“Whatever you do, don’t ask Dove for a race. She’s way to fucking fast,” he took a large gulp of air. 

“Grandpa! You can’t just wander off like that,” the woman next to Older Noah chastised him while adjusting her red cat eye framed glasses. 

Something in the air shifted around us when Michael and the woman, who I assumed was Lori the granddaughter, caught sight of each other. I could see something change inside of Michael as his eyes lit up with something I recognized so often in Noah’s eyes. 

Tapping my Noah’s chest, I glanced over at him while Michael introduced himself to Older Noah and Lori. 

“Think we can add two more to our guest list?” I asked. 

Noah smirked. “Already two steps ahead of you, angel.”

NOAH

Hiding a yawn behind my hand, I eased back into the couch a bit more while stretching my long legs out farther. The house finally settled down, all of the girls retreating to the larger bedroom to do whatever girls did the night before a wedding while us guys were scattered throughout the living room. Joe was staying at a hotel down the road and he left a bit ago. 

Both Nick’s and Jolly were on one of the couches trying to decide on what to watch. Matt was pacing the length of the kitchen practicing his speech for tomorrow. Chase and Malcolm were in the office working on a special project for Y/N for tomorrow. Davis and Bryan were playing a card game at the kitchen table. 

Michael, however, was still out on his walk with Lori. After our encounter yesterday, they exchanged numbers and Michael asked her if she wanted to go out on a walk with him.

I was sitting on the couch with Jesse next to me as I scrolled through listings on my phone. Earlier today when Y/N and I were talking about our future after the wedding, the topic of where we would live came up. Even though we both knew Michael and Jesse would never kick us out now that we were married, Y/N felt it would be better for us as a couple if we finally had our own place together. 

So after discussing it with her and promising I wouldn’t buy another house without her permission, I had been texting her every possible listing I found. Y/N’s main concern with every single one: Is it too far from everyone? 

She knew my end goal in life, after everything settled down in Bad Omens so she understood why I kept sending her listings from far. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

Jesse shifted on the couch next to me causing me to glance over at him. “How’s Salem and Kuma?” 

“JT said they’re good. He took Kuma on a three mile run earlier so he’s currently passed out in the middle of his kitchen floor,” Jesse chuckled. 

Since most of us were in Japan, we needed someone to watch Salem and Kuma. JT immediately offered when Jesse brought it up. 

“Have you found a place yet?” He asked while motioning to my phone. 

I sighed while dropping it to my lap so I could rub out the stress from my temples. “There is one that looks promising. Has everything we need. But the neighbors are about a mile away which is a little too close for us. We envision complete solace. Is that bad?” 

He shook his head while running a hand through his unruly curls. “Not at all. It’s fine to want some privacy. I mean, it’s why you guys are thinking of moving out anyway.” 

“I know,” I nodded before showing him the listing. “It wouldn’t be so bad if one of you guys moved in next door since the house next door is for sale too so maybe I could talk Y/N into buying both so we can have extra space. I emailed the relator earlier so now it’s the waiting game. ” 

Over my laughter from my joke, I nearly missed the way Jesse let out a low hum as he clicked on the listing for the house next door. 

THIRD PERSON POV

A soft breeze blew through the bright cherry blossom stems, bringing a sense of calm to everyone who sat, patiently waiting to watch a harmony of two people becoming one. They all waited with baited breath for Y/N to emerge from the back door while Noah stood at the end of the aisle with Matt. Noah radiated nerves and did his best to keep his shaking hands hidden behind his back so he didn’t run them through his hair. It had been slicked back perfectly for the wedding and he couldn’t risk messing it up before Y/N saw it. 

Even though a lot of aspects of their wedding wasn’t traditional, Y/N still wanted to keep some parts. They hadn’t seen each other since late last night after Noah and her snuck into the bathroom for a sweet kiss goodnight. While the guys got ready, the girls went out for breakfast. When it was time for Y/N and the rest were time to get ready, all of the guys went for lunch. Anything they could to stay away from each other. Noah didn’t want to risk ruining her big moment so he did his best to stay far away from her; even if it was killing him on the inside. 

Noah was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button up shirt, something he didn’t wear often. On the lapels of his dress shirt were angel wings pins that connected with a golden chain. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing not only his tattoos but also the silver bracelet; the one that mirrored Y/N’s. 

Matt bumped his shoulder with Noah’s. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m going to throw up all over my shoes,” he admitted with a staggered breath. 

“Just take deep breaths like Dr. P instructs you. It’s just Y/N, no need to be nervous,” Matt assured Noah before pressing down the front of his shirt. 

When Matt asked Y/N last night if he could still wear his hat during the ceremony, Faye immediately smacked him upside the head causing said hat to fall to the ground. 

“These are your best friends, Matthew! You’re not wearing a hat during the ceremony!” Faye chastised him. 

So now, here Matt was standing next to Noah, ready to officiate the wedding while wearing a black button up with pants to match and his blonde locks pulled back into a low bun. Faye couldn’t stop staring at him as she stood off to the side, one of Y/N’s bridesmaids. 

Astrid was the maid of honor, followed by Tay and Faye as bridesmaids. On Noah’s side it was Nicholas as the best man, given their years of friendship and history. Jesse and Joakim were the other two groomsmen. Although they had a big family, Noah and Y/N decided on keeping the bridal party small. 

The backyard was littered with vast amounts of Japanese lanterns that illuminated the space around them as the sun was beginning to set. There was a large cherry blossom tree in the yard where Noah stood, waiting for his bride. A few petals managed to fall off a branch with a sudden gust of wind and lingered on his shoulder. As he was about to brush them away, there was a soft voice that seemed to whisper in his ear, halting Noah. Just as the patio doors opened, a butterfly landed on the other shoulder and that voice from earlier spoke in his ear again. 

“Think I’d miss this?” 

Noah’s eyes snapped over to the two empty chairs in the front row. One with a picture of Y/N’s father and the other, the one that had his immediate attention, was a picture of Keaton. 

“Glad you’re here, buddy,” Noah spoke under his breath. 

The speakers that Matt had set up in the yard began to play a familiar tune; an instrumental version of You and I. Like a lot of other things in their wedding, the song that Y/N chose to walk down the aisle wasn't the typical song played at every other wedding. They wanted to be different, to show that their love was different than anyone else's. Their love story wasn’t like any told in existence or written in books. 

The clouds above in the sun kissed sky opened up to let those rays paint the figure at the end of the aisle who was flanked by Chase on one side and Malcolm on the other. Suddenly, a flash of every moment between them flashed in Noah’s eyes; the good, the bad, the private ones. Everything they’d gone through the last couple years, from the moment he stepped off the tour bus to right now. It was all worth it. 

Noah was worthy. 

Y/N was worthy. 

And now, in a matter of minutes, their bodies and souls would collide while they danced together in the moonlight as the stars aligned for them. 

The moment Noah’s eyes locked with Y/N’s, all of the breath had been stolen from his lungs. He felt frozen in a time loop, trying to gather if this was real life and he wasn't still stuck in his dreamstate. Tears welled in his eyes as he let out a choked laugh when he saw Malcolm needing a moment before they began their walk towards Noah. 

It was evident that everyone was affected in some way or another by seeing Y/N in her dress. Malcolm blew out a few deep breaths before he nodded over to Chase. 

“I’m ready.” 

Chase raised a brow. “You sure? We can wait another minute if you need.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened. “No the fuck we can’t. Noah is waiting for me.” 

She was thankful her hair was pulled back by an angel wing hair clip with only a few strands falling in her face because the heat emanating from her body brought a thin sweat to her skin. 

“Alright,” Malcolm hooked his arm with hers again. “Let’s get you married.” 

With the song still playing, all three of them took a shared breath, before they began the walk down the shortened aisle. While everyone's eyes were on her, Y/N only had eyes for one person. 

Noah. 

Who currently had tears rolling down his face and made no effort to wipe them away. On one of his shoulders was a few petals from the cherry blossom tree above him while on the other shoulder there was a pretty blue butterfly that made no effort to move. She noticed the angel wings pin on the collar of his shirt as when her gaze fell to the buckle on Noah’s belt, Y/N sucked in a breath. 

Her dad. 

Noah wore her fathers belt buckle that had his initials. Her dad only wore it on special occasions and he had it in the family for the last 30 years. 

As she walked past all of her friends, Joe gave her a wide smirk with a wink; an action that told her one thing. 

Told ya you guys would be here. 

For a brief moment, Y/N remembered how Joe was there for her when they toured together and assured her that the break between Noah and her were exactly what they needed to get to this moment. 

The invisible string that bound them together began to vibrate deep within their chests as Y/N closed the distance to Noah. All day, she’d felt sick because of the nerves that ate away at her. But now that she stood in front of him, all the worry fell to the grass beneath her feet. 

With kisses from Chase and Malcom to her cheeks, they gave Y/N away to Noah who took her hand happily. 

“Hi, angel,” he let out a giggle. 

“Hi yourself, mochi,” she blew out a shaky breath. 

One they stood across from each other, Y/N handed her bouquet of Violets over to Astrid while Faye handed her something special. 

“Before we get started, I have something for Matt,” Y/N spoke while placing a hat on top of Matt. 

The word Officiant was bold and large in white letters on the front. 

“Oh thank god,” Matt let out a long breath while adjusting the hat. 

“There’s the Matt I know and love,” Y/N smiled before linking hands with Noah again. “Alright, now marry us already because I’m dying to kiss Noah.” 

A chorus of laughter echoed in the backyard before finally settling and Matt cleared his throat. Even with the shaking of nerves from Noah, the butterfly on his shoulder didn’t falter and that’s when Y/N got a good look at the three dots on one of the wings. While Matt began his speech, a flutter of wings caught Y/N’s attention for a brief moment. A butterfly with black and yellow stripes landed on her wrist as she continued to hold Noah’s hand. She sucked in a breath when the realization hit what kind of butterfly it was. 

A Japanese Luehdorfia.

Y/N’s father spent a lot of his free time while living in Japan studying butterflies and these ones were his favorite. With the butterfly on Noah’s shoulder and the one on her wrist, the final two guests had arrived. 

“I love you,” Noah mouthed to her as Matt rambled on about how everyone has a soulmate in their life. 

Y/N squeezed his hands. “I love you more.” 

“Alright everyone knows how much I love to yap but now it’s time for Noah and Y/N to exchange their vows,” Matt smiled as he took a small step away from them to give them their own space. 

Noah cleared his throat before taking a deep breath and did his best to calm the rapid beating of his heart. 

“This is about to be long so please bear with me,” Noah jokes. 

Jesse parted his lips to say something but with a sharp glare from Tay, he snapped his mouth shut. 

“Angel, I never knew truly just how much my life would change when we got the call about us touring together. When we met, I was in a weird place in my life but never knew that in such a short amount of time that everything was going to be okay again. Every moment spent with you that summer was something I could never forget; I didn't want to forget. That was the summer I knew we'd be here, together.”

Y/N squeezed Noah’s hand, both of the butterflies still resting on them, as he continued on with his vows. Everyone realized that he wasn’t reading from something, everything he spoke came from his mind on the fly.

“There was always something that held us away from each other, whether we sucked at communicating. More so, I really sucked at communicating. Or the fear that I wasn't worthy to be loved so strongly by you. The world stopped moving when you walked out that hotel room door. Which is why I made a promise to myself never to see you walk away like that again. Everything that's happened in our lives has led us to this spot. I wrote some silly little words in a hotel room years ago "Would you say I'm worthy?" and not a day goes by where you don't find a way to show me I'm worthy of you. That bracelet on your arm where the butterfly rests, Every morning you're in my bed, every time you burst in the room to share with me an idea for a song or painting you have. After all that time, after all those tears and pain and wondering if I was worthy, I can finally say out loud that we both are worthy. I won't drown you out, and I will wait for you no matter where we are. You were my angel before, and you're my angel now and forever.”

Y/N brushed away the tears with the hand that didn’t have the butterfly resting on her. “Thank Hades for waterproof mascara.” 

With his eyes lingering on the silver chain and locket hanging around Y/N’s neck, Noah continued on. “Y/N, I spent so much time overthinking the past, where it slipped away all the time we let escape from the both of us while we tried to heal ourselves so we could be better for each other. At first I succumbed, kept myself numb while I tried to deal with the fact that I may be losing you. But I was not okay, I was not alright. How many times have I survived trying to feel like I’m alive? Never being able to change and get outside of my own head. I thought I knew that you couldn’t change me anyway but that’s where I was wrong, Angel. Because you had already changed me.”

Something shifted in the air around everyone and the butterfly on Noah’s shoulder began flapping its wings, almost like it was ready to take off. Y/N saw something ignite in the dark embers of Noah’s eyes as he spoke the final words of his vows. 

“I was a helpless mess but you stole my pain, Novocain. You made me feel alive the moment I first saw you. I know now that I no longer have to survive because now, I have something that makes living so worthy. It’s you. In time the price we pay in pain brought us eternal peace. There is no Angel without Mochi, and there is no Mochi without Angel. I look at you right here before me and the same voice that’s been with me from the first time I met you is singing that it’s all okay. Everything is okay Angel, it’s you and me until forever.”

Just as Noah finished his vows, the butterfly on his shoulder fluttered up into the air to fly around both of them before shooting up into the air. 

Swallowing thickly, Y/N adjusted her wrist to grab the papers that Astrid held out to her and yet again, the butterfly on her wrist remained unmoving. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to follow that?” She chuckled. 

“You can’t,” Noah winked. 

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N took a centering breath and began reading from the papers in her hands. 

“Noah, or Mochi if you will, I was stuck in an endless cycle of never knowing what love truly felt like. I spent so many days and nights wondering when I would bloom. The day I stepped off that bus and saw your face is when I started. I couldn't help myself but wonder if the look in your eyes was real or not, I was so scared you wouldn't see me for more than what everyone made me out to be. Yet you never saw that version of me that people created. You only saw me.”

“That day in the hotel when I walked out, I felt my world break. I knew at that moment it was you and only you but I was so scared I wouldn't be what you wanted or needed. I was so worried I was holding you back from the life you dreamt so heavily of because of my condition. You never saw the endometriosis, you never held those struggles against me. You love me despite all my faults.” 

“Those are not faults, Y/N,” Noah wiped a tear away from her face. 

Leaning into his palm, she pressed a tender kiss. “I know. It took a lot of sessions with Dr. Poulos for me to realize that I can't let my condition define me, shout out to her for that and put my head on straight.” 

Everyone let out a small chuckle of laughter as Older Noah watched with a faint smile on his lips because he knew how well his Allie would relate with Y/N and their shared conditions. But with his granddaughter sitting next to him, Older Noah knew that a miracle could happen for them as well. 

“I came from a broken home and was made to believe on one side that I wouldn’t get this; would get this life I created on my own and with you. I was told that no one would love me despite my condition. Not only you, Noah, but everyone here never saw me differently. You all took me in like one of your own, took Chase and Malcolm in. You all were a family but let us in on that first day of tour.” 

Bryan snapped away picture after picture, cementing these vows forever with something Y/N and Noah can look back on. Especially when the butterfly on her wrist finally moved for the first time and now rested on her abdomen while Y/N spoke the final proclamation of her love for Noah. 

“I always knew it was safer by your side and knew I just had to give it time. Chase and Malcolm always told me "if you can keep the love alive, you'll survive." It was so deep in my soul and I held on to that. Noah, from the moment I walked in your house for that party to the moment we finally admitted it was always going to be you and I. You will forever be worthy of my love. Every breath I take will be for you, from now until the last and after that, meet me in the epilogue so I can find that smile. Mochi, our stars aligned and I'll keep them there for as long as you let me.”

By now, there wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd, especially Nicholas who watched his best friend bounce on the soles of his feet. Noah was ready to kiss his bride. But first, they exchanged rings. 

“Well,” Matt cleared his throat, doing his best to mask his emotions. “We’re going to skip over the part where I ask if anyone objects because we all have been waiting for this to happen. So with that being said, by all the powers invented and by that one website, I announce you two husband and wife. Noah, for the love of the Gods, kiss your bride!”

Right as Noah reached for Y/N’s waist, the butterfly fluttered away in the same path the other had done moments ago. With a wink, Noah pulled her to his chest and brushed his lips across hers. It was slow at first, both savoring the moment as the world faded away around them, then all at once the pace increased as the invisible string between them tied the final knot to connect their souls once and for all. 

“Mrs. Sebastian,” Noah brushed his nose across Y/N’s. 

She broke out in a fit of giggles while wrapping her arms around Noah’s waist to bury her face in his chest. “About fucking time.” 

THIRD PERSON POV

The moonlight glimmered high in the sky, bathing everyone in the yard in a luminescent glow. It was well into the evening, everyone calming down from the long day of celebration. 

After the ceremony, Noah and Y/N immediately went into the house where Nicholas had his tattoo equipment set up. They each got one simple tattoo on the inside of their wrists. 

Worthy. 

Now they sat together in one of the large outdoor chairs with Y/N in his lap as Noah buried his face in her neck. His heart would not stop beating wildly in his chest because finally, after all the hell they overcame, they were finally where they were meant to be. They danced together for the first time as husband and wife to Just Pretend-Acoustic; the same version Noah sang to her the night he proposed. 

Jolly and Astrid hung off to a secluded corner of the yard while he rested a hand over her bump. She was only a few months along but now she was showing which caused Jolly to not stop wearing that bright smile. He was beyond proud of the family he created. 

Faye and Matt were in the middle of the made-up dance floor as she rambled on about all the little ideas she loved about the wedding and how she wanted their wedding to go. Matt listened intently without saying a word, simply watching his fiancé with adoration in his eyes. 

Tay was sitting with Dove, both of them giggling about something, while Jesse watched from a distance. He’d been planning things all evening in his head, mapping out his life and it was evident in the way his heart lurched in his throat when Tay continued to laugh that he was feeling an emotion that was new for him. Closing the distance between them, Jesse extended a hand towards Tay, who titled his head at him. 

“May I have this dance?” He asked as Repay by The Plot In You began playing through the speakers. 

Tay glanced over to Dove, feeling bad it was interrupting their conversation but the brunette waved her off. “If you don’t dance with your man, I’ll push you into him.” 

Once Tay was finally in Jesse’s embrace, they began to slowly move about the yard and he brushed his forehead against hers. 

“I love you,” he proclaimed for the first time. 

Tay’s eyes widened and leaned away from Jesse to get a good look in those chocolate boba eyes. “What?” 

He cupped her cheek to lay a small yet forceful kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, darlin. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, I just needed to-.” 

“I love you too. So fucking much, Jesse. I’ve realized it for a while but was so afraid you wouldn’t feel the same yet.” 

As new love blossomed, new beginnings were starting for Michael and Lori as they sat in front of the bonfire as they divulged about themselves to each other. Bryan and Davis offered to take Older Noah back to the hotel and were booking rooms for everyone else because for the first time in a week since they first arrived, Noah and Y/N would be alone. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Y/N whispered in Noah’s ear as she continued to sit on his lap. 

“You do?” His brows peaked as his cock twitched underneath her. 

She said nothing, simply pressed a kiss to his cheek before sauntering into the house. 

READER

I shook out the nerves from my hands as I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. The white lace stood out against my complexion and I double checked to make sure my breasts were pressed up perfectly. Turning to the side slightly, I peaked at my ass that was barely covered by the end of the lingerie. When I found it in the store a few weeks ago, I knew immediately I had to buy it from the angel wings alone. 

I never wore anything like this for Noah before which is why I was extremely nervous. While our sex life was extraordinary, I was still very unsure on how he felt about me dressing up in something like this. 

“Stop being a pussy!” I pointed at my reflection. “You’re hot. You married THE Noah Sebastian!” 

I quickly shook my head. “No, he married THE Y/N L/N, well now Sebastian. But that’s beside the point. You are going to bring this man to his knees. He loves you and would fuck you even if you wore a potato sack.” 

Realizing I was still rambling to myself, I shook my head and quickly spritzed myself with my perfume; Noah’s new favorite of mine that smelled like peaches. Fluffing out my hair, I gave my reflection a curt nod before flipping off the lights and stepping out of the bathroom. The house was quiet, only the floor creaking beneath my feet as I crossed the hallway into the bedroom Noah and I dubbed ours. We decided to make my dads bedroom the new office, the old office our bedroom, and still keep the guest room the same. 

As I walked into the bedroom, I saw Noah sitting on the end of the bed with his gaze down on the floor between his feet. He’d changed out of his wedding attire and wore only a pair of red briefs. His shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath as his hair dangled in his face but made no effort to brush it away. When he played with the new black band around his ring finger, I took in the sight of the new tattoo on the inside of his wrist, the same one I had. 

Worthy. 

Clearing my throat, I stood a few inches in front of Noah with my hands behind my back, trying hard not to knock into the ends of the angel wings. His head snapped up from the floor and when they landed on my form, his pupils bled darkness. 

“Uh, do you like it?” I shifted on my feet, waiting for his answer. 

Noah was still silent, only keeping his eyes on my breasts that were barely hidden underneath the white lace. He made no move towards me which made me start to second guess this idea. 

“This was stupid,” I muttered before turning on my heels. 

A hand shot out to grasp my hand, halting me, and when I glanced back I saw Noah staring up at me. 

“You’re a literal fucking angel,” he mused before yanking me down to his lap. 

The head of his cock pressed against the thin material of his briefs and I bit back a moan when I felt it brush along my core. 

“My angel,” Noah praised while fingering the end of the wings. “Keep these on.” 

I raised a brow at him while brushing away the hair from his face. “The wings doing it for you, Mochi? Do you want to chase me through the woods while you wear your mask and fuck me with them on?” 

“Don’t tempt me,” he groaned while dragging his teeth over my collar bone. 

With his hands on my hips, Noah guided me along his cock as I let my head fall back in bliss. I’d been wound up all week due to us deciding not to be sexual with each other and knew that if he even breathed on my clit, I would orgasm. 

I gently pushed him away from me to lay him down on the bed while I fell to my knees between his legs. 

“Oh fuck,” Noah ground out while letting his head fall to the bed as I dragged his briefs down the length of his thick legs. 

My lips parted over the leaking head of his cock with my fingers wrapping around the base. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips when I sank my mouth down on him. 

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned with pleasure as I took my time with him. I wanted to savor the way he always tasted. 

"Angel," Noah warned. “Please. I need you."

I popped off of him and wiped away the drool from my chin as I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

“For my wife? Yes I am.”

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again. 

Neither of us wanted to wait any longer so he undone the buttons of the lingerie teddy to expose my bare cunt to his awaiting cock. His eyes snapped up to me for a moment so I gave him a nod right before he guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan.

Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted, his hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning. But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

Having my husband inside of me made my soul come alive. 

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation, the coil in my stomach pulling taut. Noah’s eyes jumped to the silver chain around my neck and gripped it with force to pull my lips down to his, devouring me 

“Mine,” Noah demanded while fucking up into me. 

I let out a silent yell when he hit the spot that made my spine ignite but the chain tightened around my throat, nearly cutting off my airway. 

“Say it,” he panted. “Say your mine, Y/N.” 

“I’m yours, Noah. Forever yours.” 

He attacked my lips with so much force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke, and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Cum for me, Noah. Fill me up, please. I need you to cum with me.” 

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, nearly crushing the angel wings,  pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but a matter of air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her husband, and my toes curled when I finally came apart, Noah slowly falling behind me. 

THIRD PERSON POV

As Y/N and Noah lay together in a mess of tangled limbs, both coming down from their shared high, he let the sounds of her deep breathing ease him into his own slumber. Her discarded lingerie and wings lay scattered on the ground and Noah made a mental note of asking Y/N on how she felt about hanging them up in their home. 

He couldn’t stop watching her sleep with a smile that no one could erase. She was his. Finally Y/N was his wife and he would do whatever he could to make her happy. 

Long fingers dragged up and down the snake tattoo on her back, almost like how he had the night they first lay together. The long day was coming to an end, the new chapter of their lives began tomorrow, which caused Noah to sweat all over because he couldn’t help but let the anxious thoughts creep in.

Take a breath, Noah. It’s okay. 

Doing just that, he eased into the warmth Y/N proved and rested a hand on her stomach, finally letting himself succumb to the darkness. 

“Love you, mochi,” she mumbled into the skin of his chest. 

He kissed her forehead. “Love you more, angel.”

The rain that surrounded them in the beginning was no longer something that drowned them. It couldn’t rain all the time. Their love was forever unbroken. It created lines upon lines of memories, some old and some new. It brought about friendships that tied together as one family. All because of a miracle that had yet to present itself. They were no longer afraid of the wars that were waged against their sins. They weren’t okay in the beginning but their love proved that they no longer had to pretend. They waited each other out and Y/N would forever stay until morning. 

All because they both were worthy.

[soapoet]

describing your next love...

...because i'm just as nosy as you are.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Lucky people by Waterparks

they have a very sunny energy. the kind that peaks out behind the clouds after a fall of rain. rejuvenating, always welcome. they try their best to stay optimistic, for loved ones and strangers alike. it feels a little tragic because there is a darkness inside them that they choose to ignore. their sunny disposition seems less like a mask and more like armour. it's what has gotten them this far. they may have had a rough childhood, and their heart may have been wounded particularly by one of their parents. they struggle with mental health and might be neurodivergent. they're the kind of person to end a depressing sentence with 'lmao', or turn a therapy session into a stand-up comedy show. they cope with their struggles through humour, because if they take themselves and their problems too seriously and lean in too close to where it hurts, the pain becomes overwhelming. their heart is much like a dam, holding back tons of tears of almost biblical proportions. even still, if they opened the floodgates they'd find a way to muster a 'noah, get the arc' joke to force some sunlight through the clouds.

despite their dance around their own feelings, they're encouraging of others expressing theirs, and stand firmly by their side and always have a shoulder to offer if needed. they love to make people laugh, and aren't afraid of making a fool out of themselves if it puts a smile on someone's face. they'll gladly cast themselves as a jester if it makes their loved ones feel like royalty. they're very excitable and fun to be around. at their best they are a firecracker, bursting with an energy so infectious and bright. they're creative and very passionate about their hobbies, often to the point of obsession. it seems like all they do they do with such love. like a show is never just a show, but a whole world of its own to explore and come to know as home. they love the escapism of foreign lands, fictional and real, and something about them makes a simple trip to the grocery store an adventure with many memories to one day share.

you either already know them, or will meet them very soon. especially if you're in a transitional period, moving away, changing jobs or applying to schools, then this is a person you'll meet in this next chapter of your life. this has friends to lovers written all over it. you might be in the same friend group, or meet them through a mutual friend. their hair stands out for some reason. it could either be in the literal sense because it's messy, perpetual bedhead, or they have a unique colour or cut. perhaps they change their hair frequently and have a bit of chameleon vibes in which they become unrecognisable with every change that they make to their appearance. they're average in height but could look taller than they actually are. their posture isn't the greatest, especially if they're an artist of some kind. they have golden retriever energy and may be a dog person in general. for some, they have freckles or dimples, or prominent birth marks. there's a lot of mutual pining involved before anything happens. they're a little bit oblivious, too. someone else might have to step in to spell things out for either of you.

02.

Shufflemancy: Into you by Ariana Grande

being playful and flirtatious can get you in quite a bit of trouble, and they know this from experience. they're attractive, and seem very aware of it, though there is less legitimate arrogance and more playful cockiness involved. they like to make an effort to look good, and have a strong appreciation for a partner who does the same. generosity may be a way they show this appreciation because they understand the time and maintenance this effort can take, and are of the mindset that they ought to reward what they like rather than simply expect it or take it for granted. they're likely involved in business such as investments or trade, or could be working on building a business of their own. they're physically fit, and might frequent the gym or be into sports. they have a lot of stamina because of this, so do with that information what you will.

they could have a bit of a reputation due to an unscrupulous past, and it is one they have done much work to rewrite. they want to settle down, but haven't found someone they could commit to. a big issue for them is the way fun gets sucked out of things too quickly in the relationships they've been in. they're very spontaneous and have a big capacity for romance, but they often find themselves lacking space and time to do anything special. like how you would decide to clean the house to surprise your mother, only to have her call and ask you to do just that, ruining the gesture. similarly, in their relationships they may find themselves cornered, and in the suffocation of their freedom and passion their capacity and desire to impress and to woo begins to fade like a smothered flame, which in turn causes strife. and the nagging that so often followed turns them into a complacent shell of themselves, wherein it's better to nod along than risk discord. they seek an equal. somebody powerful in their own right, who can support them and be supported in return. they want love to be an adventurous undertaking of a power couple ready to seize the day.

this feels like a right person wrong time -scenario. when you meet they're probably in a relationship with someone else, or you are. you could meet at some sort of social gathering or organised event like a fundraiser or a concert. there's a distinct sense of delay here, though the interest is mutual and very persistent right from the beginning. they could hold themselves back from pursuing anything with you at first because they want a clean slate. it may at first to you seem like frustrating indecision and make you question their intentions, even integrity, but they may just be untangling their life and closing chapters. they yearn for the long-term and would like the house and the kids and whole nine yards, but need to make sure their life is upright, straightened, and ready for it. there is a playful glint in their eyes, which may be hazel or brown. there is a distinct warmth to them and a loving gaze feels especially adoring from them. they would make a very good and attentive parent and spouse for the right person. there could be a noticeable size difference between you. if you're softer and curvier, they're more angular and dense, and if you're shorter, they're taller, etc.

03.

Shufflemancy: Great shipwreck of life by IAMX

oh, how charming! they're gregarious, and attract quite a few admirers. though it seems they take few, if any, seriously at all. their popularity may be a byproduct of an important or visible position that they hold. they could be a prominent figure within their community or be very successful in their field of work or hobbies. their schedule is often packed with meetings, events and social obligations. they could travel a lot too, both for pleasure and for work. for their work they may spend extended periods of time away from home. in spite of their sociable persona, they keep their private life very private, under lock and key, and may even be secretive about it to an extent. they may be unapproachable or simply be unattainable by people outside of their established circles. there is an element of social games or hierarchical factors present in their life, and whilst they're good at networking, climbing ranks, or beating records, they may actually find many around them to be uninteresting or outright obnoxious. where they spend their professional hours draws a lot of similar types of people together, and their tastes differ quite a bit. being married to their work in a way leaves few options for them in love since they look for something outside of their norm, which they have little time to explore.

there could be a fear of being taken advantage of. like they can't seem to trust people easily, and expect everyone to have ulterior motives. to use them or get something from them. these trust issues run deep, and either they have been burnt before or have watched somebody close to them fall from grace and are afraid they'll share that same fate. there could also be legal reasons for their caution, as they may have signed contracts or taken an oath that dictates what they can and cannot share, particularly if they work for the government or a big corporation.

this connection might begin online or otherwise have distance involved even if you meet in person first. lots of messages or calls. they revel in good banter and enjoy entertaining more out-there ideas. they feel starved off of deeper conversations because their life seems to revolve around a lot of simple niceties and professional talk with tons of things redacted, edited, and filtered to fit into a very narrow box deemed correct and good and appropriate. it's very tiring and wears them out, even though they won't show it. they really appreciate things that differ from the norm or breaks the status quo in some way. what they consider their type is also very different from what would be expected of them, and their peers would be shocked to hear what they find ideal both in terms of a partner and a life that they would like to lead. their voice seems important too. they have a very attractive voice, could be a great speaker or an artist. their hair is either longer or shorter than average (shorter for women, longer for men), and their physique leans slimmer and angular, not a lot of curvature just lots of straight lines and sharpness.

04.

Shufflemancy: Willow by Taylor Swift

they probably don't get out much. most if their life occurs behind closed doors. they could work or study remotely, and their schedule might be different from the usual nine to five. their friends and family may live at a distance, too, which leaves them few reasons to leave the house. they need mental stimulation and might be a little high-strung, their nerves like violin strings wound too tight. independence is of great importance to them and their boundaries are clear, almost like austere walls protecting a castle. they appear aloof and don't say much, especially around strangers. though their shyness is often overruled by their intrigue. they like to tinker with things and minds alike, and may often step in to play devil's advocate just to stir the pot. especially in their boredom they may seek out discourse as a form of entertainment. they have strong opinions, but are not stubborn or unable to bend. in fact, something they abhor is weak convictions and mindless agreement. they respect admittance of ignorance far more than the parroting of popular opinions if there is a lack of substance behind them. they really do not seem to mind different views at all, and may surround themselves with people of all walks of life and various temperaments and opinions. this is in part driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge. it's as though they've made their quest in life to seek information and learn everything they can in one short lifetime. they are open-minded and curious, and have great respect for anyone who has something to teach them. and they're a great teacher themself! even if they do not literally teach as a part of their work, they might have been told by many that they should consider it because they really have a way of adapting information, hand-tailoring it to their audience, so that even complex things get delivered and comprehended.

where they may be a great source of knowledge and advice to those around them, they aren't the greatest in terms of emotional support. they are a problem solver, and they can't fix tears. they try, but it feels clumsy and awkward. though that can be a little charming, too. they care a lot, more than people might expect. they're just terrible at showing it through big and extravagant gestures and displays of affection. they're more likely to give praise or take on tasks to unburden you. they like routine and solitude and seek someone who rivals the comfort of their peace and quiet. they could die happy if they could simply share a space comfortably with someone without constant noise, buzz, and attention. they could be strangely private about things that don't necessarily call for privacy. like, they might easily drop childhood lore in a casual conversation, but find inquiries about what they did yesterday suspicious even if they didn't do anything special.

because this is a bit of a 'rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair' -type of situation where they're very comfortable in their ivory tower that gets no visitors, it might take a while before you meet them. they're far more social online and you could meet through common interests like online games, subreddits, discord, or through mutual friends. if you already know them, there may be a sense of unrequited love for a while. they rarely act on their infatuations and just wait it out, enjoying the feelings for what they are but do little, if anything, about them. alternatively they participate in very indirect chasing that appears more like making the other person chase them. they have attractive hands, could be ambidextrous or they fidget a lot with their hands. they may be a writer, play an instrument or play a lot of video games. they always appear deep in thought or even a little irritable, even if they're actually not. not so much RBF as simply spacing out. their eyes seem hazy. whichever colour they are it looks desaturated and blurry, like there's mist covering them. blues lean greyish, greens look muddy, browns look more true and lack the amber warmth. they might wear glasses or contacts. regardless of race they're a little paler and may have some health concerns or struggles.

05.

Shufflemancy: I want you to want me by Chase Holfelder

there is something broken here. their home, their heart, or perhaps their mind. it'll be difficult to break through this shell because the exterior is harsh and uninviting. whatever it is that haunts them, it really shows in their relationships. they walk a path seemingly unlit and full of horrors, leaving behind them a trail of broken hearts. pieces of both their own and those of past lovers scattered along the way. to some their love is suffocating, draining and overbearing. when they get attached they latch on with a powerful grip that seems unyielding. they're a rock that could weather the strongest of storms and they're used to being a pillar of strength. but it seems as though their past is full of people who would have needed the room to bend with the winds and were left feeling too restricted. they may have a jealous streak that's rooted in fear of betrayal, likely from past hurts. they could struggle with a mental illness or have history of abusing drugs or alcohol to numb what haunts them.

they really want a partner in crime. someone who is similar to them and understands their turmoil. they have a big capacity to understand and deal with heavy burdens and mental issues in a partner too and aren't easily fazed by emotional outbursts or any type of spiraling mentally or emotionally. they also remind me of the quote 'a hero will sacrifice the person they love to save the world, a villain will sacrifice the world to save the person they love'. they seem a bit like an outcast or a misfit, and those closest to them may also be underdogs and form a very tight-knit group. they're a little bit of a hopeless romantic and have a soft side. if they're musically inclined they might write you a song, or otherwise use writing as a way to express their feelings in a deeper way. their cold and rough exterior is there to ward off the most frail and flaky. they don't want to ruin dainty petals or have their own ripped out by players.

funnily enough they actually look like one themselves. they have that quintessential heartbreaker look to them. the one all the movies deem nothing but trouble. a villain in the story of many but their own and those closest to them. there is a feminine energy close to them that they're very protective of, like a sister or mother. for some they might be providing and caring for a sick relative. they have an unusual job or field of study, and peculiar working hours. they might work a graveyard shift, gigs, or do work that's seasonal or done on the go. music plays a big role in their life and you could meet them at a concert or through another kind of relation to a band or artist you both enjoy. they take a keen interest in the strange, and the mysteries of life. they might study the occult, enjoy conspiracy theories, true crime, etc. they're distinctly cool toned, blondes are dirty and ashy, browns are void of red pigment and lean darker, almost black. blue eyes are very cold and piercing, and brown eyes are very dark and may appear black. they have piercings, tattoos or scars and may bruise easily, or be into those things in others.

06.

Shufflemancy: Trust by Boy Epic

somebody send this person on a mandatory holiday. i really should not have left this one for last, because the energy is really heavy. their life seems unbalanced, like it is all work and no play. there is a jittery energy here as though they are running on fumes and caffeine to fuel a big machine with hundreds of intricately moving parts. they might work in real estate, management, law, IT, or have a lot of people they're in charge of who depend on them. they have impeccable memory and somehow manage to stay on top of things with ease. they like being personally involved and may be hands-on with many of their projects. task management comes naturally to them. it's as if they're playing a game of chess with life and stay aware of every possible variable and reach outcomes long before they show in the present. this spills into all areas of their life and allows them to map out goals with great precision, leaving very little room for uncertainty. they're very stable and competent. but they're also miserable. even though they enjoy their work for its challenges and the heights it allows them to reach, it may seem to them as though they are wearing themselves out without real purpose beyond the accolades. like they're building an empire in vain because there is nobody to share their glory. they want more from life, namely a home. their home is as big as it is hollow and they don't like it there. it lacks a lot of love and light and they wish to bring some of that into it through children and a spouse.

they may come from a big family themselves, even one of good fortune. their discipline and work ethic is likely something instilled in them by a father figure, and there could be a bit of an eldest child complex at play, wherein they have always felt the need to set an example for their younger siblings, but also feel embittered by what they cannot get away with that others so easily can. they could use with a bit of whimsical and carefree energy in their life. they're aware of it too, as they find a bit of chaos oddly attractive in a partner. in previous relationships they may have been with people far too similar to them, allowing them no place of restoration and solace, but instead a constant movement of the goal post. they seek someone comfortable and more easy-going who can help them relax and live a little. they are generous and would spoil a worthy partner rotten, but are also afraid of gold diggers and don't want to be taken advantage of, as they may have run the risk of in the past.

out of all groups, this one leans the oldest. depending on your age they could easily be 5-10 years your senior, and if you're very young it will likely take some time before you meet them. you might meet through work, through coworkers, at a work related event, or if it is a leisurely occasion it's one with a mixture of age groups like a family gathering of sorts. for a few, you could run into them a few times at random whilst running errands and going about your daily routines. either way interest is established quickly, even though they may seem stand-offish or even stiff at first. in actuality they busy themselves with observing, and throughout your interactions, and your interactions with other people in their presence, they size you up and try to figure you out. they could be very taken with you, but they try their best to not show it. they're cordial, but keep their cards hidden. once they decide to pursue you everything happens very quickly. again, because of their game of chess having played out various scenarios while they figured out their feelings and rearranged their life to fit you into it. they're eager to please, and one-on-one you may be surprised by their sensitive and softer side. they're doting and have a lot of adoration once they fall, and out in public where they seem level-headed and collected you can easily distract them and have them stumbling a bit. they're very protective and are bigger or stronger than you. their features lean darker and they may have an earthy look to them, like green or hazel eyes and auburn hair. this one has the strongest indications of marriage.

[dsireland86]

Requesting Noah x reader where the reader experiences post partum depression after giving birth to their newborn baby girl.

Post partum depression is no joke and something so many women, including myself, have had to deal with. I wish it on no new mom. But, when you have a good partner who supports you entirely, it makes all the difference🥰

PostPartum

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

I held her in my arms like she was the most valuable thing in the world. To me she was. She was my daughter. She was the best part of me and her mother put together, a treasure created out of pure love.

I looked over at my wife, watching as she delivered the remaining proof of her pregnancy, feeling nothing but pride and respect for her. What I had just witnessed in the last thirteen hours was nothing short of an absolute miracle.

I had no idea how difficult it was for a woman to give birth until now. The strength and resilience I saw in her made me see her and all women in a whole new light. It was an indescribable yet incredible feeling.

She looked up at me, smiling her beautiful yet exhausted smile. She looked completely different now; she was a mother. I grinned back, offering her our daughter and gently laid her on her chest when she said yes.

"Noah, she has your nose and your eyes," my wife gushed, kissing our little girl's rosy forehead.

"She really does, doesn't she?" I marveled, unable to hide my grin. I kissed my wife's forehead, praising her over and over for what she went through for us. I had what I'd always wanted. I had my family.

Days after we came home were a struggle. The nights were sleepless, the days exhausting. The constant feeding and changing diapers was a lot of work I wasn't prepared for. But neither was my wife.

She started crying more than usual. At first, it was simple little tears, but then there were days where those tears lingered all day and sometimes into the night, too. They would lead into spurts of her doubting her ability to be a mother and caring for our baby the way she needed to be cared for.

That's when she would say things like, "Our daughter does better when I'm not around. Maybe it's for the best", or "I just want to disappear. All of this is too much."

I knew she was exhausted, not mentally prepared for any of this, so I did my best to help take the burden off her shoulders, hoping it would help. Sometimes it did, but most of the time I think it only made things worse.

A few weeks went by, and things began to mellow out some; with our daughter at least. We got into a routine and a schedule of sleep, making the nights more bearable.

But my wife would still have her spouts of irritability, sometimes waking up and starting things for no reason. It was usually over little things like dishes or clothes, but then it started to become bigger. She accused me of not being home enough and not helping out enough which would always end with her falling apart and crying again. It broke me.

I didn't know what to do, except hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay, even though I wasn't so sure.

I would watch her during feedings and how she seemed distant from our baby, looking away, never making that mother to baby eye contact I read about in the "What to Expect When Your Wife is Expanding" book Jolly bought me for my first "father's day". She was physically there, but not mentally.

Days after our daughter turned a month old, I came home to find her sitting on the couch in the living room, staring into nothing. She had the most distant spaced out look on her face, her eyes completely void of anything.

"Baby, are you alright?" I gently shook her. She finally snapped out of whatever daze she was in, shaking her head.

"Noah," smiling weakly at me.

"Baby, I'm really worried about you. You're not looking or acting like yourself," I finally admitted to her.

"I feel okay," she said weakly.

"When was the last time you ate?" I brushed some loose hair out of her eyes, running my hand down her cheek.

She thought for a moment then shrugged.

"Come on, I sighed, taking her hand and pulling her towards the kitchen. That's when the baby monitor went off, signaling our little girl was awake.

"Why don't you go get her, and I'll make us something to eat." My wife shook her head.

"No, you get her. She wants her daddy."

Letting go of my hand she made her way into the kitchen, leaving me in a bit of shock. I thought this was the worst of it, but I didn't know how much worse it could get.

Sex was out of the question. Not just for the first six weeks of course, but even past that. She closed herself off to me, not wanting me to touch her or be around her. It got to the point that she was sleeping on the couch and whenever I came into the room she would leave. I didn't understand any of it.

I eventually had to stay home from the studio and recording with the guys, having everyone bring everything to my house because I was too scared to leave her and the baby alone. Something was off with my wife, and I couldn't figure it out. I was taking it personally, thinking that the end of us had come and what was meant to be the happiest time in our lives was now becoming the hardest and most hurtful. I was done. I couldn't go through with it anymore.

One night, after our little one fell asleep after her feeding, my wife laid her in her bassinet then turned to leave the room.

"Don't leave. Please. Just stay with me for a minute," I asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

She turned and looked at me with tears in her eyes.

All the color was gone from her beautiful face, her complexion dull. Her hair, normally shiny and in her wavy ponytail, was unkept, piled high on the top of her head in a messy bun. Her sleep clothes were the same ones she'd worn for almost a week.

This was nothing but a shell of my wife and it killed me seeing her this way.

"Come sit with me, baby, please," patting the bed next to me. At first she hesitated, but then, surprisingly, she came and partially sat on the bed.

I tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling at her when she looked at me so sadly. I leaned in to kiss her, slowly so as to not startle her, and felt relieved when she kissed me back. Her hands found the back of my neck, twisting the longer pieces of hair at the nape of it. Her touch sent shivers down my spine. I was longing for her in ways I didn't even realize.

"I miss you," I confessed, placing my forehead to hers and holding her head between my hands.

"I know," she sniffed and I wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs.

"I miss you, too, Noah."

"Then talk to me," I whispered, "tell me what you're feeling. Even if you can't make sense out of it. Just tell me anyway. I'll listen."

And she did.

I ran a hot bubble bath and for the first time in months I held my wife's beautiful naked body against mine, listening as she told me everything she had been going through.

I washed her hair, scrubbed her back, and helped her shave her legs, and in return, she gave me the best sex I'd had in a while.

Watching her face as she came on my cock buried up inside her made me cum, the feeling taking us both to a higher place we hadn't been in a while. It was euphoric.

Once out of the bath and fully dressed, she checked on our little angel still fast asleep, and for the first time since we brought her home, I watched the brightest, sweetest smile grace my wife's face as she looked down on her. It made my heart swell with joy.

We discovered that night, after some slight research that what she was experiencing was called postpartum depression.

It's something most new mother's get, some more extreme than others. We weren't throwing all our eggs into the basket of self diagnosis, but she promised to call her doctor the next morning and schedule an appointment.

Seven months old. Time flies when you're having fun. I watched my wife as she attempted to feed our angel sweet potatoes for the first time. Surprisingly, she liked them. A quarter of the jar later and we had a happy, sleepy little baby.

I cleaned her up and handed her to mama as she willingly and lovingly took her and cradled her just the way she liked it. With some warm milk, a soft blanket, and mama's arms, our little girl was out like a light.

My wife looked up at me, smiling brightly. She was herself again and there was no better feeling than to see her return. With a mild medication and a little therapy, postpartum depression slowly made its way out of our lives, restoring to me the woman I loved.

She apologized, over and over, time and time again, but I always reminded her there was nothing to apologize for. None of it was ever her fault.

"Thank you for sticking it out with me, Noah. Thank you for not running away."

I took her hand and kissed it, rubbing her growing belly carrying baby Davis number two. Now that we knew what to mostly expect, this little gem would be easier to handle.

"For better or for worse, Princess. You've got me and them, forever."

[merrybloomwrites]

Call Your Mom

Summary: When life becomes too much you have a plan for a way out. What you don't realize is that a simple text to your childhood friend Noah won't only save your life, but turn it around for the better.

Word Count: 1.6K

CW: suicide attempt, depression

AN: This fic is very heavy. Please protect your mental health. If the topic of suicide and suicide attempts are upsetting or triggering for you, please do not read this story. Your health comes first!

I suddenly became obsessed with the song Call Your Mom and could not rest until I'd written this.

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

You start the day like you’ve started every day for the past few years. A shower, a cup of coffee, some cereal and a long, slow commute to work. 

It continues in the same monotonous way it always does. But today you actually have something to look forward to.

A bottle of pills, waiting for you once you get home. A simple fix, something to stop this boring life, full of hurt and loss and bad news and bad days. 

Every year it gets worse and worse. You have a theory that the world would actually explode if something good happened to you. Because nothing good ever does. It’s always inconveniences, problems for you to solve, or even worse, problems you can’t solve. Hopeless causes. 

And you’re tired. Just so damn tired of fighting every single day, just to make it through the day. It’s exhausting.

But finally, it’s all about to be over. 

Driving home takes even longer than usual, and you realize why when you reach your neighborhood.

It’s Halloween, and kids are out trick or treating with their parents and their siblings and their friends. Having fun. Laughing. Enjoying life.

You remember what that was like. You remember how much you used to love Halloween. You and your best friend Noah always hung out that day, running around and collecting candy in your fun costumes. You’d go back to his house after to trade candy, you giving him your Whoppers in exchange for all of his Milk Duds. 

When you finally make it home you have some dinner, then clean it and put away the dishes. Feeling slightly nostalgic you pull out an old photo album, flipping through it and focusing on the Halloween photos.

It’s so amazing how happy and carefree you were. And so sad that you haven’t felt that way in years. 

It hurts to look at Noah, thinking back to all the good times you had as kids. You’re proud of him and happy that he’s been successful and is out there living his dream. You’d gone to one of his shows, and it was the best night you’d had in years. But then you woke up again the next morning, back in your lonely apartment, and that post-concert depression left you even more glum than normal. 

You look between the photo album and the stacks of notes you have written for your family members. There isn’t one there for Noah, but you want to say one last thing to him before you go. So you send him a text before opening the bottle and downing the pills inside.

**********

Noah’s out with some friends when his phone buzzes with an incoming text. He’s surprised to see your name pop up. He hadn’t heard from you since you’d come to one of his shows, and that was nearly six months ago. 

He smiles, happy to see you message him, but then he reads the text. He’s immediately on edge, worried by what you’re saying. Because it sounds like a goodbye. 

He knows that you’ve had a lot happen to you in the past few years, a lot of setbacks and things to cause you grief. But you always seemed so upbeat. He never had a reason to worry, until this moment. 

Stepping out of the bar he takes a deep breath of crisp, fall air. He reads the message again. And again. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he's overreacting. But he cannot get over the thought that something bad might happen, could be happening at this very moment. He tries calling you, calls three times, but gets no answer.

Wracking his brain, he tries to think of anyone in his phone that still lives by you, but he can’t come up with anyone. Finally, he scrolls through and sees your mom’s contact. It’s been years since he’s called her, and he just hopes that she hasn’t changed her number. 

There’s once again no answer. He calls again and she doesn’t pick up. He leaves a voicemail, telling her he thinks something is wrong and she needs to call him back.

After leaving the message he goes back inside to tell his friends he’s leaving. He runs to the garage where his car is, thankful that he hadn’t even finished his first beer and can get on the road immediately. 

Noah drives as fast as he safely can, and by the time he’s out of the city and on the highway he gets a call back from your mom. She received his message and went to check on you, finding you unconscious in your apartment. She updates that she’d called 911 and is now at the hospital waiting to hear an update on your condition. 

That’s all he knows as he continues to speed through the dark, thankfully empty streets, all the way back to Vermont. 

His mind swirls between happy thoughts, like memories the two of you share, and sad thoughts, like the fact that you could be gone, never to make memories again.

Noah keeps his emotions in check and concentrates as he maneuvers the back roads into  your shared hometown. 

Finally, after what feels like days, he arrives at the hospital. As soon as he enters the reception area he sees your family. Your mother sits, worry clear on her face. Your father paces the room, anxiously waiting for any news. 

But it’s your sister who notices Noah first, running over to hug him. 

“Thank you so much for calling mom,” she says through tears. 

“How-” he tries to ask but a wave of emotion chokes off his sentence. 

Understanding what he was trying to ask, she answers, “They think she’ll be okay. She took pills but they said she got here in time. They pumped her stomach and are monitoring her now.”

“Thank god,” Noah says. 

Your dad comes over, placing a firm hand on Noah’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything but Noah understands the gratitude he’s relaying through the gesture. 

Finally he goes and sits next to your mom. She takes his hand in hers, again a silent show of appreciation. 

It isn't too long after that when the doctor comes out and tells everyone that you’re awake. 

You close your eyes and try to hide your face when your family files in, ashamed by what you’d done. But they don’t hesitate, all of them crowding you to hold you. 

You apologize numerous times, your family taking turns to tell you it’s okay, everything is okay, they’re just glad you’re alright. 

When they finally back away and give you room to breathe, you see one more person standing shyly against the wall. You feel even worse now, making Noah drop everything and drive all the way back here. 

“Mom, can I have a minute with Noah please?” She nods and ushers your family out of the room, saying they’ll be back in a few minutes. 

After they leave Noah walks closer, standing right by your bed. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “So sorry you had to come here and handle this. I’m sorry I inconvenienced you.”

“Hey, no. Stop. You did not inconvenience me. I am just so relieved to see you alive and breathing.”

“I mess everything up. Everything is so messed up and it’s all my fault. I wanted to make it all stop.”

He sits down on the bed and wraps his arms around you. 

“Do you remember that night senior year when you showed up at my house with a stack of DVDs and like, every snack you could find?” He asks. 

“Yeah. You’d seemed really down that day and I wanted to cheer you up,” you reply. 

“I was down. I’d been struggling with my mental health, and I also wanted to make everything stop. I had gotten pills, just like you. I was going to take them that night. But then you showed up, forced yourself into my room and put on a movie marathon. Y/N, everything I have, all my success and happiness, that’s all because of you. That wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t saved me that night.”

He pauses to wipe the tears streaming down your face and says, “I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been exactly where you are. And I know you won’t believe this now, and it seems like such a cliche, but I promise it gets better. Not all at once, and not all the time, but it will stop feeling so overwhelmingly awful. You’ll get your light back and little by little it will get better.”

Somehow, you believe him. Knowing he’s experienced this before and came out the other side proves it’s possible. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say. 

“Thank you for saving me first,” he replies. 

You sit there together and think about what he’d said. If there’s one thing tonight has taught you, it is that you matter. There are people who would be devastated if you were gone.  

Not only that, you owe it to yourself to stick around and experience life. 

It takes work, always will. But after months of therapy and accountability plans and late night calls to family when things feel too much, you’re able to tell Noah you have dreams again. 

A couple months after that you report to him that you have a new job, one that brings you joy and fulfillment. 

A few weeks after that you adopt a pet, someone to share life with and who depends on you. Needs you to survive so they can survive. 

When you feel healthy you get into a relationship. It doesn’t work out, but it’s not the end of the world. 

And when Halloween comes around back around, you’re spending it with your best friend once more. 

It’s been a year of hard work to get better, but as you watch movies and eat snacks hanging on the couch with Noah, you’re so happy that you were here for it. Everything could have ended a year ago. But you’re so incredibly happy it didn’t.

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

AN: Thank you for reading! I probably won't write more for Noah unless inspiration strikes like it did for this one, so requests are not open for him

[thatchickwiththecamera]

Noah x female reader

Reader has been dealing with depression issues and Noah decides to surprise her by taking her to their local humane society to adopt a kitten.

Thank you so much for your request! I enjoyed writing this one! I hope you like it! Any feedback you have is appreciated!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN GUYS! SEND THEM IN!

The hum of the oscillating fan situated in the corner of the bedroom served as the only background noise playing throughout y/n’s otherwise silent apartment. On any other day she would have been out of bed and at the bottom of her second cup of coffee by now, but that familiar sense of dread had decided that this week was the perfect time to creep back into her psyche and wreak havoc on life itself.

So here she was still in bed at noon on a Saturday, staring at the ceiling, while her brain recalled and relayed all of her insecurities and imposter syndrome decided to manifest itself into the otherwise forgotten corners of her spirit where she tried to hide her fears from the world. 

The sound of the fan and the chatter of her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of her ringtone emitting from the device on her nightstand. She reached over to silence the device but stopped short when she saw a familiar photo and name flash across the screen. 

NOAH SEB 

She slid her thumb across the screen and put the phone to her ear, answering with a simple, Hello.

“Hey! I’m going to be at your apartment in one hour. So you need to get up and get ready!” said Noah, one her best friend of almost 3 years now.

Noah didn’t give her any chance to protest or come up with an excuse. He also refused to mention where they were going before ending the phone call despite Y/N’s inquiries. 

Shit. 

Y/N met Noah when she ran merch for one of the support bands that opened for Bad Omens on tour back in 2021. Since then she has toured with Bad Omens on and off assisting with tour managing, merch, and other miscellaneous duties while also touring with other bands and artists. 

Since then Noah and her usually hung out at least once a week when both of them were home from tour. Y/N knew that Noah wasn’t naive to the fact that her brain was working against her this week. He cared for her, knew her history, and could tell when she was slipping back into depression. He knew when to give her space and when to intervene and help her climb back out of the pit. 

An hour later, she had just finished drying her hair after a much needed shower, when she heard the sound of a key entering a lock, the door open, and the keyholder loudly making their presence known. She had originally given Noah a spare key for emergencies, but with how frequently he used it that original arrangement was basically null and void.

“HONEY! I’M HOME!” Noah shouted, his voice carrying up the hallway. 

She didn’t need to shout back in response with her location. The apartment wasn’t big enough to warrant it. She stood in front of the large dressing mirror leaning against the wall in her bedroom and pulling her hair back in the only style she had energy for. She watched in the reflection of the mirror as Noah leaned against the door to her bedroom with his arms crossed into front of his chest. He smiled at her as she finished messing with her hair. She showed him a tight lipped smile in response. 

He pushed off the door and crossed the room before pulling her into a tight hug. A hug she didn’t know she was in dire need of until this moment. She looped her arms around his waist as he wrapped his around her shoulders and back, his right hand cradling the back of her head. She inhaled the scent of his cologne. The smell was familiar and comforting. Noah refused to let go until she was ready. 

After a few minutes she pulled back and responded with a soft, Thank You. 

“Always. You know that.” He replied, planting a kiss on her temple before letting go completely. 

Noah walked out into the living room while Y/N gathered her keys and wallet, throwing them into her crossbody bag and slipping it over her head. 

“So where are we going?” she asked. 

“You’ll see, it's a surprise!” he replied before ushering her out the door and locking it behind him. 

Twenty minutes later they entered a parking lot in front of a taupe colored concrete municipal building. The letters on the front facade read:

Los Angeles County Humane Society 

Noah put the car in park and turned to Y/N with a giant smile on his face. 

“We’re going to adopt a cat!” He exclaimed. 

“Noah, what are we going to do with a cat?” She replied with a laugh, “We travel for work!”

“We’ll hire the same person the rest of the guys have to take care of their pets while we’re on tour together.” He replied, “There is no arguing about the work stuff, I’ve already figured all of those logistics out!” 

“You’re serious. We’re getting a cat?” She replied, a smile growing on her own face. 

“Yep! We’re going to be cat parents!” he replied, getting out of the car and heading toward the entrance. 

Inside they were met with a volunteer at the front desk named April who led them to the wing where all of the stray cats were housed. Walking down the long corridor they were greeted by cats of varying breeds, colors, and ages. As they walked April pointed out a few of her favorite residents and gave brief histories on them and their time spent with the shelter. 

At the very end of the hallway in the very last holding pen lived the tiniest inhabitants of the feline wing. A group of 5 kittens tumbled around and fiddled with various toys the caretakers kept spread about the area. Small bins were nestled in the corners for those old enough to consume solid food and water. An orange kitten with blue eyes chased around its tabby colored playmate. Two similar looking cinnamon colored kittens chased each other around a scratching post and tower situated in the corner opposite of the food and water. 

But I was the smallest of the bunch that caught Y/N’s eye. A black cat with little white socks on its two front paws lay stretched out soaking in the warmth of the heat lamp that hung above the bedding area. She pointed him out to Noah who commented on how chill the tiny creature looked. 

“I hate to bother him, but can we see that little guy?” He asked, turning to April. 

“You sure can!” She replied before retrieving the lounging kitten from the pen. The tiny being chirping at the caretaker, upset over his lounge time being disturbed. April led them over to a secure playing area meant for the animals to interact with those who come to visit. 

Noah and Y/N sat criss cross in the play pen and watched as she sat him down in front of the pair. The young cat let out a Meh sound before wandering over to Y/N and sniffing the skin of her knees that peeked through the rips in her jeans. Content with the smell of the human, he rubbed his head and body against her leg and before walking over to Noah and doing the same. When he was content with how he felt around them he wandered back over to Y/N and climbed up onto her lap. She scooped up his little body before he got a chance to try and climb up the fabric of her hoodie instead nestling the creature to her chest. He let out a chirp before settling into a steady purr. 

“Looks like he likes you guys!” Said April as she supervised from outside of the pen. 

“I think we like him!” Y/N replied, turning to Noah who looked back at her with a huge grin on his face, “What do you think?”

“I think he’s perfect!” He replied. 

Thirty minutes later, paperwork was completed, adoption fees were paid, and vet records were checked over. Noah and Y/N walked out the door with a little cat carrier holding their new furry child and a new collar tag that read ‘Niko’ in blocked sans serif letters. 

Y/N looked over at Noah once they got back in the car, a big smile consumed the lower half of her face. 

“Did we really just become Cat Parents?” she asked with a laugh. 

“Yep! But there’s no one else I’d rather become a cat dad with!” Noah replied before reversing the car out of its spot and leaving the parking lot. “Ain’t that right Niko?”

Niko responded with a sharp meow from his carrier securely buckled in place in the backseat

“See, even he agrees!” Noah exclaimed with a laugh. “It’s fate! Now let’s go get our son some cool stuff at the pet store”

[noablke]

Task 003: Noah Blake’s home

[wishfullyeternal]

Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 6

Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 6

Warnings- Mentions of violence, gunshots, swearing, PTSD, depression etc. Please exercise caution.

Words- 1544

A/N- finally got around to continuing this part! hopefully y'all like it! as always requests are open and love you lovelies!

In your mind it was all so clear, each memory playing in your head effortlessly, but when it came to words, it was useless. Useless to even try and explain what had happened, it was so simple yet so complicated, and to even speak it aloud would give Noah some kind of power beyond the grave.

"I don't know," You said, rocking back and forth slightly, feeling sweat begin to bead at your forehead, even the fleeting thought of his appearance was enough to make you visibly shake, your fists clenched and breathing erratic.

"You seem nervous, is everything okay?" You nodded and clenched your teeth, struggling to answer the therapists' question.

"It was cold, and I had just gotten off work," You trailed off, struggling to remember the events even though they were seared into your mind.

"Noah was home, in my apartment, looking for something to accuse me of cheating on him, and he found a picture of Spencer, and screamed in my face-"

"Are you in a romantic relationship with Dr.Spencer Reid?" You shook your head violently,

"Oh no, it's not like that, we're just on cases a lot together, so we've become pretty close friends," You laughed nervously, and the therapist pondered on your response, but nodded and wrote down something on her notebook. You made a mental note to try and see what it was.

"Once he was done yelling at me, he grabbed something to try and tie me, to keep me still so he could-" You took in a breath, trying to find a way to move away from the subject, but there really wasn't.

"Rape me." The therapist nodded and scribbled something down,

"I didn't have my gun, so I kicked him and we ended up fighting, and that's how I got the bruise on my face," You gently touched it and winced, but luckily it had begun to heal. The therapist then wrote something else down and spoke.

"After that though, you went to Dr.Reid's house and let the BAU form an investigation trying to find him, correct?" You nodded,

"I stayed with Penelope to help, they wouldn't let me in the field at the time," You nodded to yourself, trying to give yourself some type of confidence to get through the last of the events.

"Noah was already in the building though, and when I was getting coffee from the break room, he found me, and we both pulled our guns in a stalemate," She nodded, wanting you to go on,

"But he got into my head and made me think that it was wrong for me to defend myself, so I ended up putting my gun down and letting him take me from the break room," You shook your head, knowing it was a mistake you made that resulted in his death and maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't surrendered that quickly he would still be here today.

"Why did you let him take you out of the break room," You closed

your eyes and spoke quietly,

"Because maybe if I would have let him do anything he wanted to me, it would all fucking be over," The politeness was gone from your voice, and you desperately wanted to get this fucking interview over with so you could get back onto the field and forget about this.

"What did he say to you?"

"He told me everything he knew about me, my favorite color, favorite music, why I liked it, everything..." You faltered, trying to find the words that would make her understand exactly what you were going through, but there weren't any words that could. Of course your significant other should know these things, but the way he said them with so much venom in his voice completely broke you.

"Reid was walking in at the same time, and pulled his gun, talked to Noah, realized he was going to kill me no matter what, made a judgment call and when he moved, Reid shot him." You quickly finished and began to get up,

"Sit down please, I'm not done yet, I still have to give you my diagnosis." You furrowed your brows, there was nothing wrong with you, why would you need a diagnosis?

"Severe PTSD, and moderate depression, both are caused by the traumatic event, and can be lessened with therapy and meds, I want you to start seeing a therapist once a week and start you on Sertraline, first ten milligrams and then gradually increase from there, if everything goes well, you'll be allowed into the field in about 2 months-"

"2 months?!" You said in disbelief,

"I have to go to therapy and take whatever the fuck that is for two months?" She nodded,

"At your first session the therapist you choose will give you the prescription, so please take it easy and get some rest. I'll check in on you in two months. Know that I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, usually, I would keep someone out of the field for at least three months."

"Can I at least help in Quantico?" She thought for a second but then nodded. You thanked the lord above that you wouldn't be so cooped up at home, and went back to your desk, not before sneaking a look at the clipboard she was writing on.

Obvious PTSD, amnesia? Depression, co-dependent, prone to relationships that give not receive. Stable enough to keep gun, etc, keep an eye out for new relationships/drastic changes in mood or behavior.

You took offense to the co-dependent phrase but quickly booked it to your desk, eager to get the hell out of there. Hotch stood at your desk, awaiting your arrival.

"What did she say?" You nodded to yourself and let out a breath, composing yourself.

"Out of the field for two months, gotta go see a therapist and take some meds for PTSD, I can still help Penelope though," Hotch sighed,

"I'll see if I can lessen it for you, but from now on help Penelope and go to therapy. I know you don't want to but it's for your own good." You nodded and sat at your desk, shuffling through the immense amount of paperwork you had to do from both the FBI itself and the case before.

"What did they say, I can give a second opinion if you want," Reid looked over your shoulder and to the paperwork you were completing.

"You know you can leave that for later," He continued, you nodded.

"Better now than later. I'm out of the field for two months though, and I gotta go get therapy and meds, I can still help Penelope." Reid smiled,

"You know that's not what I meant, what were you diagnosed with," You sighed,

"PTSD and mild depression, she called me co-dependent..." Reid laughed,

"First two maybe, but only mild, and for the co-dependent part, I'm sure you know the answer." You laughed quietly, it was something you were going to have to work on, but not yet.

"You don't seem super nervous talking about it, why?" He tried to pry and get more information, but in reality, the only thing you could think of was how detached you were from the event, seeing it from the outside rather than the inside.

"I guess I'm just detached, that's all." Reid shook his head,

"That won't do you any good, therapy will help though. Do you want me to drive you home, it'll be better to be in a place you recognize." You nodded, trying to remember how you had left the place, probably messy.

"C'mon then, better get there now so we can clean." You smiled, we. Such a simple gesture, but made you feel loved.

The car ride was less than interesting, and you found yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, only looking up when Reid had parked.

"Nervous?" He asked, you nodded and sucked in a breath, letting it out and preparing yourself for what was to come.

You got a flash of memories from that night, and the way you ran to your car, hands still barely tied. The hallway you almost tripped down, and the doors you had to open. Reid put his hand around you, noticing your breathing change.

"It'll be okay, it's just a room, and Noah is gone. He won't hurt you again." You nodded and tried to comfort yourself to no avail. Your heart began to beat faster and faster, like thunder in your head, deafening, you could almost feel the blood coursing through your veins. You put in the key to your apartment and gently opened the door, Reid just behind you.

It was a mess. Just like how it was left. You couldn't help but place a hand on your gun, looking for any type of movement.

"There's no one here, promise," Reid said, trying to calm you down. You let your hand wander to your side, and sat down on the loveseat, where everything went down.

"Do you need anything?" Instead of declining like you usually would, you asked for a glass of water, not wanting to get up and get it yourself. Reid went into the kitchen and ran the water, but before he got to you you heard a deafening.

Crack!

Like the thunder you had heard when Reid pulled the trigger on Noah, in fact, it was identical.

Oh fuck...

Not today, not today, not now...

[mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves]

My top 10 favorite films of the decade

1. Frances Ha (2012, Noah Baumbach, USA)

I can’t imagine that this film would appear on many decade end lists, much less at the #1 spot, but this film spoke to me on a deep, personal level that few films have. I’ve never seen a film perfectly represent both the ups and down of being in your 20s. Despite dealing with some complex issues, Frances Ha is lovably lighthearted, it’s sweetly optimistic tone is incredibly infectious and every time I watch it, I’m left with a huge smile on my face. It may not be the most sophisticated film ever made, but any film that eases my mind about being an aimless twentysomething deserves to be called the best of the decade.

2. Lady Bird (2017, Greta Gerwig, USA)

Absolutely hilarious from beginning to end, but also unflinchingly honest with some pitch-perfect characters, Greta Gerwig’s solo directorial debut is an incredibly intelligent story of growing up. What really impressed me about this film is that, while it does acknowledge the difficulty of being a teenager, sometimes it can be just as hard on your parents, a theme often ignored in coming-of-age films. This really is a special film and I hope it dazzles audiences for many more years to come.

3. Joker (2019, Todd Phillips, USA)

Joker was a film that took me a while to really appreciate. After my first viewing, I enjoyed it greatly, but thought it was a little rough around the edges, but as I thought about it more, I realized how brilliant it really was and after three viewings, I feel confident ranking it among the best of the decade. It is undoubtedly the boldest reinvention of the comic book movie I’ve ever seen and one of the most transgressive Hollywood films in recent memory. It’s dark, character driven style is something I hope will influence the superhero genre for the better. Not only does this work as an origin story, but it succeeds spectacularly as a social commentary on the effects of mental illness and our broken care system. Joker can be a bit of an unpleasant viewing, due to it’s consistently dark and depressing tone, but beneath that is an incredibly intelligent character study that pays tribute to the greats and boasts a bravura Joaquin Phoenix performance.

4. Blue Valentine (2010, Derek Cianfrance, USA)

I’ll be honest with you....this film made me cry....a lot, so much so that I’m actually reluctant to ever watch it again. An absolutely heartbreaking account of how it feels to fall out of love, Blue Valentine never lets go of it’s depressing tone, even the scenes that flashback to how the lead characters fell in love have a certain melancholy feeling to them, due to the juxtaposition with scenes of their crumbling marriage. Despite how brutal this film is, it is fantastic, from beginning to end. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams are at their best and lend realistic, devastating performances to match the tone. I’m glad to have seen this film, but don’t expect me to revisit it anytime soon.

5. Paterson (2016, Jim Jarmusch, USA)

Much like Frances Ha, Paterson is a film that moves me with it’s sweetly, optimistic tone and warm sense of humor. A simple ode to the beauty that can be found in day-to-day life, it’s a film that’ll make you pine for the simple pleasures of routine and home. It’s a very meditative film that has a very calming effect, I can watch this film in a horrible mood and still feel relaxed. Simple, but effective, Paterson is another excellent entry in Jim Jarmusch’s filmography that I look forward to seeing again and again.

6. Julieta (2016, Pedro Almodóvar, Spain)

This is a film that, while well-reviewed upon it’s release, seems to have been forgotten, even by some Almodóvar fans, which is a shame because I think it’s among his best works. Paying tribute to the female-centered melodramas of his youth, Almodóvar weaved together a touching, tantalizing anti-mystery that provides a sad, but strangely hopeful look at the struggles women face in our modern society. It’s a fascinating film with a great message that I hope audiences will gain a new appreciation for in the future.

7. Nebraska (2013, Alexander Payne, USA)

While Alexander Payne’s works usually have serious themes, masked underneath a playful, comedic tone, Nebraska is a more serious, introspective work from the filmmaker. Focusing on the on-set of old age and dying familial relationships, Nebraska is a film that’s often poignant, but not without Payne’s distinct sense of humor. What really struck me about this film is how realistic the characters are. I could compare each and every character to someone in my own life, from Bruce Dern’s senile Woody to Will Forte’s cynical David. Without a doubt, this is my favorite Alexander Payne film, due to it’s touching story, brilliant acting and it’s crisp black-and-white cinematography.

8. The Master (2012, Paul Thomas Anderson, USA)

If I had to pick one living filmmaker as a favorite, it’d be Paul Thomas Anderson. Each and every one of his films is an absolute labor of love and are technically perfect, from first frame to last. The Master is, by far, his most audacious. Every asepect of this movie works perfectly. It’s cinematography is absolutely breathtaking and captures the post-WWII setting, all of the performances are astounding, especially from the late Philip Seymour Hoffman in one of his best roles, the film’s themes of the nature of man and humans desperate need for a sense of connection are very thought-provoking and ring true. Admittedly, I had a hard time between choosing this film and PTA’s equally brilliant Phantom Thread, but the ambiguous nature and brilliant performances of The Master seems to have left the bigger impact on me.

9. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013, Coen brothers, France/USA)

While containing many of the familiar traits of the Coens’ work, Inside Llewyn Davis feels unlike any of their other works. It’s a slow, profound and melancholy film, unlike their previous eccentric comedies. I’m surprised at how well the duo can handle such a simple film. Oscar Isaac gives an excellent performance in this film as the titular Llewyn. It takes a lot of skill to take a character as unlikable as his and make him endearing. I loved the attention to detail of this film, the Coens made sure that this film was as accurate to the period as possible and it shows. At times, it felt like I was watching a documentary about 60s-era Greenwich Village. It may catch some Coen fans off guard, but it’s a fantastic entry in their filmography that you don’t want to miss.

10. We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011, Lynne Ramsay, UK)

Definitely one of the most unnerving films I’ve ever seen, We Need to Talk About Kevin is a film that has an added poignancy in recent years due to the rise of attention given to our treatment of the mentally ill. This is a film that gnaws at you by asking uncomfortable questions about mental illness, motherhood and responsibility for our actions, without ever picking sides or providing us with easy answers. Making this all the more impactful are the top-notch performances from Tilda Swinton and Ezra Miller as the troubled mother and violent son, respectively. A successful blend of horror and drama, this is a film that will unnerve even the most hardened viewers, so naturally, a second viewing isn’t guaranteed, but it’s a great film that deserves your attention, even if it’s only once.

...And that’s my list for the 2010s. Hopefully, the 2020s will be as strong a decade for film as this one was.

[galadrieljones]

As You Were (Chapter 11)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Found Family, Joel Lives | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

Summary:

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret, filled with painful memories and reminders of the past. But they aren’t alone. When they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival on their family farm, things finally start to take a new shape, altering the course of their lives in irrevocable ways. In the end, for those with little hope to spare, family is what you make it.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second.

*chapter specific cw: mention of suicide, depression

Chapter 11: Interlude II (The Ark)

That night, they sat up in the crow's nest, on separate bean bags, looking at their hands. Noah had wanted to take inventory of his books to decide which he was going to bring with him on the road, and which he was going to leave behind. But it felt weird now that he was up there, and pointless, and sad. Everything he knew, he would have to leave behind, and he would never see it again. Everything. They would have to board up the house, post signs on the electric fence. CONTAMINATED WATER. DO NOT DRINK. They should probably burn it all down, but his mother would not allow that. It was her childhood home, too. They would seal it up instead as a tomb and maybe in 100 years when the spores died or the mushrooms got burnt out the river by somebody with the means to do so, an enterprising explorer would come to this lonely region, discover their farm and read it like hieroglyphics on the wall, stories from another time. He would look at Noah's stack of books and think, What a discovery. What a thing to behold.

Danielle sat very still, as was her default setting. But she was also picking at her thumbnail, compulsively. She was not wearing her prayer kapp anymore. She still had her hair braided tightly to her head, but she had taken off her kapp. Noah knew some things about Amish by then, and he knew the different types of kapps and bonnets and their meanings. Usually, when she was away from home she would wear a black bonnet over her white kapp, because she was unmarried. But she didn't have the black bonnet today, only the white kapp, and she had only ever removed her head covering in front of him one other time that Noah could remember, and it was when they were thirteen years old and it had been so hot, they ran through the sprinkler and she took off the kapp for just one moment while she fixed her braids.

"What's wrong?" said Noah. He was deciding between The Road and Blood Meridian. He chose The Road, stuffed it in his backpack.

"Nothing," said Danielle. She had followed him up there without him knowing. She was quiet as a mouse. When she appeared, he was surprised, but it was okay. He didn't feel like being alone.

"Why are you biting your nails."

"I was just having a bad thought," she said. "You know. How it's over. Our lives, as we knew them once, they are over. My mom, and your dad. The land we knew and that raised us. All of it, gone, and now we too must be gone."

The way she talked sometimes, with her formal words and slight accent, it was foreign to Noah in a mythical way. "Yeah," said Noah.

She got up then, from the bean bag chair. She looked around. She picked up some of the books to read the summary on the back, then she set them back down again.

"Anything you want, you can have," he said. "Take whatever."

"Like what would I take?"

"Any of my books. I have a lot of comics inside, too."

She found this to be funny for some reason, smiled with her cheeks getting red. "Ha ha."

"What's funny?"

"Where are your guitars?" she said then, out of nowhere, like she was suddenly taken off guard. "I haven't been up here in a while. Where'd they go?"

"I burned them," said Noah, staring at her.

She gave him a long, disappointed look and shook her head. "All of them?"

"Yes."

"You shouldn't have did that, Noah."

Sometimes, he felt legitimately like a crazy person, like an imposter. Perhaps he would have been better off on his own. "I know," he said.

She came and sat down beside him then. He had to move over to give her room. The bean bag chair crinkled beneath them and molded around their bodies. She turned to him. She looked right at him. She framed his face with her palms, touching them to his cheeks. Her hands were cold. "I'm eighteen now," she said.

"I know," said Noah. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

"Don't worry," she said. "I just, I have hope that my family and my life will find a new hope, do you?"

"I guess," said Noah.

"I'm going to miss you though," said Danielle. "So much. You can't know. You and your guitars. You gave me a good escape place, all my life, and you and your family were always so important to us."

"I'll miss you, too," he said, shrugging. He felt he had little left to give her. "I'm sorry about everything, Danielle. Everything sucks."

"It does," she continued. "But also, there is one thing that doesn't suck, which is I can make a choice, right now."

"Which choice?" said Noah.

She kissed him. It was simple and warm. She was like a shepherd, guiding him in. When they parted, she looked sad. This was not the first time they had kissed, but it had been a long time. A flood had come between them. It drowned much more than the hills.

"Why did you do that?" he said.

"Because I wanted to," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have asked first."

"It's okay," he said. He tucked one small, loose strand of yellow hair behind her ear. In truth, it had made him happy. For just one moment, it lifted him out of the dirt.

She looked out the window. She folded her hands in her lap demurely. She had freckles on her knuckles and her wrists. She smelled like clean laundry. Being close to her, it made him want more, but it would never happen, nor should it happen, and this he knew, so he put his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes.

"What was that song you played again, that one time?" said Danielle. "Like two years ago, when we were out here, and it was like, almost fall, just like this? I remember it was getting colder, but the frost still had not come. Take me over?”

"Take On Me," said Noah. "It was just some live version off one of my dad's records. MTV Unplugged or something."

"What's MTV Unplugged?"

"I don't know," said Noah. "Something from a million years ago. Joel probably knows. We could go inside and listen to it, if you want. You could ask him."

"Okay," she said, smiling. "Let's do that."

Inside, Cici had gone upstairs, to bed. Joel was sitting on the couch alone, drinking whiskey, and listening to more Ryan Adams on the record player. When Noah and Danielle first came inside, Noah was sort of embarrassed. He didn't know why. But Joel didn't make any sort of fuss about them. He didn't call attention, nor did he ask questions. He said hello to Danielle and told Noah he would get out of his hair.

"It's okay," said Noah. "We were just gonna listen to music anyway."

"What is this?" said Danielle. She had reassembled her kapp, on her head. She was only comfortable removing it around Noah. "This is a sad song."

"It's a song called Sylvia Plath," said Joel. "This album was released the day before my 17th birthday."

"Wow," said Danielle. "It must mean a lot to you."

"Well, I haven't heard it in a while," said Joel. "But hearing it again, now, yes it does bring me back."

"Do you know what MTV Unplugged is?" said Danielle.

Joel looked at Noah, who was looking down at his boots. He had his backpack over one shoulder, looking a little lost, a wanderer. Joel set down his whiskey, listening to the song. He said, "MTV Unplugged was on TV, a lot of years ago. Why you asking?"

"Noah knows a song. He played it once, on his guitar, from MTV Unplugged."

"His guitar?"

"Yes," said Danielle. She became embarrassed then, like she had done something wrong. She looked at Noah and then she looked down at her hands, folded into the front of her dress. Noah was looking off somewhere else, flexing his jaw. Something seemed to be going on, something that Joel wasn't privy to. Didn't matter.

"Well, okay," said Joel, ignoring the tension in the room. "You, uh, familiar with TV, Danielle?"

"Yes," said Danielle. "Noah has told me about it."

"Well, MTV Unplugged was just like, live studio recordings of musicians that were popular at the time. A live studio recording meant like, it was unproduced. Or, I don't know. They just played their instruments in a room, in front of people. No multiple takes, no effects or anything like that. Real stripped down. There were some pretty important recordings, back in those days. Some artists, it was a huge deal for them to get on MTV Unplugged."

"Thanks," said Danielle. "I suppose that makes sense?"

"Maybe," said Joel. “I don’t know what makes sense anymore.”

"You guys are up?" said Ellie. She was yawning, coming down the stairs in her PJs. "What the hell?"

"Don't worry," said Joel. "You didn't miss anything. And I was just about to head up myself."

"What are we listening to?" she said, totally ignoring him. She came into the living room and picked up the vinyl sleeve off the coffee table. "Ryan Adams. Gold. You sure like this guy, don't you, Joel?"

Joel sighed.

"Who's Sylvia Plath?"

"What am I, an encyclopedia?”

"Yes, actually," she said, plopping down on the couch next to him. She picked up his glass, sniffed it, and made a face. "Yuck."

"Sylvia Plath was a poet, right?" said Noah. "Didn't she kill herself?"

"She was a poet, yes," said Joel. "And yes, she did...commit suicide."

"Jesus," said Ellie, sinking into the cushions. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. "That's sad."

"Why did she take her own life?" said Danielle.

"I don't know," said Joel, resigned to his cause now, and outnumbered. "I guess she was unhappy. Or something. She had a rough marriage? Major depression. Ryan Adams, he had a lot of depression, too. Maybe he wrote this song to cope with all that."

"Music is a gift," said Danielle. "To think that his means of coping could become a song as beautiful as this. Perhaps it is a curse."

They all sat, staring at the record player. Joel got up and took the needle off the record. "Time for bed," he said.

"Come on," said Ellie. "I just got down here."

"Well, that was a mistake," said Joel. "Everybody, to bed. It's late."

With his sleeping bag unrolled in the living room that night, and the lamps turned down low, Noah listened to the song Sylvia Plath on repeat and thought about his life and all that had taken place, from the moment he realized he was alive, up to now, sitting alone on the floor in his living room in front of the fire, imagining himself in another scenario, far away in time and space, in which things were normal, or better, or safe. He envied Joel, in a way. Noah didn't know a better life, and he never would. That is how he felt, and what was meant by his sadness in the crow's nest. That is how he had been feeling for over a year, since his dad died, and the people he knew were all gone, and there were no more delusions, no more pastoral dreams where he could ignore the dying world in which he was born. He was now grown and he would have to go straight to it, make it his own. And Danielle would be okay, because she was not the same as him. She was bright and free and she trusted in god to carry her home, and whether that was bullshit or not, it didn't matter. People believe in the thing that they think will save them. Noah just didn't know what to believe. He was doing his best to follow his heart.

And she and I would sleep on a boat And swim in the sea without clothes With rain falling fast on the sea While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me Telling me it would all be okay Out on the horizon and fading away And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh

Ellie came back downstairs a couple minutes later, wired and unable to sleep. When he looked out the window, the moon had finally revealed itself from behind the clouds. It was big and white and full. At first Ellie just said hello and then she was walking around the room, looking at all the different things on the shelves and hanging on the walls, like she was in a museum. She was looking at the paintings, most of them unframed. She said, "Did your dad make these? They're all signed with a W. His name was William, right?"

"Yeah," said Noah. "His name was William, and yeah, he painted all those."

"Wow," said Ellie. "He was really good. These are amazing."

The paintings were mostly landscapes and livestock. There were some of Cici, some of Noah, but they were like, impressions. They were blurred into the background, just blinks of color against the green. "What's your last name?" said Noah. "I was just wondering."

"My last name?" said Ellie. She smiled. She said, "Uh, Williams, I guess. Weirdly enough. That's the second time someone's asked me that in the past like, day." She came and sat down on the floor next to him, resting her elbows on her knees. "What's yours?"

"Santos," said Noah.

"Noah Santos," said Ellie. She looked down at her thumbs. She was sticking them both up for some reason, pressing her knuckles together. "So, uh. What's up with you and Danielle, Noah Santos? You guys a thing or something?"

"Not really," said Noah. He looked directly at her. His eyes were kind of dark and big, but they weren't as dark up close as they looked from far away. "Not anymore. We're just friends.” He took a huge, deep breath then, and Ellie could tell there was a lot more but that he just didn't feel like talking about it.

"Well," she said. "Friends are pretty great, too."

"Yeah, they're okay," said Noah.

They both smiled.

"I had a friend once," she said. "A long time ago. Her name was Riley."

”How’d you guys meet?”

”School. Or, jail. Whatever you wanna call it.”

"Where's Riley now?" said Noah.

Ellie looked at the fire, big and bright, like a carousel. "It's a long story. But she's gone."

Noah hung his head and looked down at the woodgrain in the floor. He said, "I'm sorry. I'm a dick."

"It's okay," said Ellie, nodding to herself, trying to be peppy. She didn't want to be sad that night. She wanted to be positive, and alert. Joel and Noah were back. They were heading out soon, on the road again. There was hope. “You're not a dick. And it’s all gonna be okay, don’t you think?”

"I hope so," he said.

Ellie’s optimism was contagious, and perhaps that’s why she felt like home to so many who lie awake in the night, thinking more about the past than the future. She lived close to the edge of her worth, it's true. She wanted to believe that there was a reason, for all of this. That there was a purpose, a meaning, behind why she kept on living while all the other people she cared about died. Riley, Tess, Henry, Sam. But she hid volumes. She did it all to help her friends stay afloat. But it wouldn't last forever. She was only one girl.

When they drove away from the farm, they did not want. The wind shook the trees, which were turning colors in the late September light. Danielle waved at Noah, standing between her father and her brother on the lawn.

It was two trucks to Moline, Joel and Ellie out front, headed for the I-80. "Here goes nothing," said Cici. She was driving, stone-faced. It was done. They had lost this place long before. It belonged to the dead now. She took Noah's hand as they escaped.

***

On the record player:

“Sylvia Plath” by Ryan Adams

[in-dire-need]

Eurus- The Oh Hellos

Before I begin, I would like to apologize for my recent absence over the past few weeks. I have been out of the loop and have a lot of other projects on my plate, so this one just slipped away. I will try to post at least two blogs a week, possibly on Monday and Friday. 

I promised in my first blog that there was much more The Oh Hellos content to come. Well, here it is. ‘Eurus’ is the god of the east wind, son of Eos and Astraeus. To The Oh Hellos, it is the most recent installment of their enchanting discography. Just like their previous releases, Eurus thrives on heavy references to Biblical tales, Greek Mythology, and of course, C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters. Deep within, the album focuses on how all of our religious beliefs are often projections of our love and pain.  

The album begins with the slow but enveloping track ‘O Sleeper’, possibly mirroring the lyric from the Dear Wormwood track ‘Caesar’. 

‘Rise up to meet it, oh sleeper awake’. 

Whereas ‘Caesar’ referred to Ephesians 5:14, ‘O Sleeper’  references Genesis 6-9. These chapters depict Noah’s Ark and The Great Flood. As a person who was raised Catholic, I have heard this story a hundred times. For those who haven’t, here is a simple explanation:

After creating human life, God realizes that it was a mistake. They are disgusting, barbaric, and mortal. His solution is to create a great flood to destroy the entire world so that he can rebuild. He found the one man who was righteous and free of blame and instructed him to build a gigantic ark. Noah complied and God then instructed him to take two of each animal on earth with him and his family. The chosen survivors took to the ark and lived safely as every living being and plant on Earth was destroyed. After ten months, Noah sent out a raven in hopes that it would find land. It returned with an olive branch, signifying land. After a year in total, the passengers of the ark left and made their homes on land. 

‘O Sleeper’ is set in God’s perspective as he views what his creation has become. He made human beings in his image, with his soul, only for them to become wicked and turn their backs to him. The theme of Noah’s Ark is continued into the title of the next track, ‘Dry Branches’, albeit an instrumental transition piece. 

The album continues with the thought-provoking and vibrantly uplifting third track. While continuing the overarching theme of Noah’s Ark, ‘Grow’ presents calming and vivid imagery that sends a message of personal growth and maturation. Sometimes, knowledge and certainty only holds you back. There is no need to know exactly where you are going or push your life in the direction you think it needs to go. As the famous phrase says, “Que sera sera.” Whatever happens happens and if all of your ducks aren’t in a row, so what? It is one of the most important lessons you can learn in life, and ‘Grow’ describes it so well that the only way I can fully explain it is by telling you to go listen to it yourself. Even the atmosphere aids the song’s purpose by presenting an entire ensemble sing-along. The upbeat and inspiring energy is absolutely infectious and cannot be told, only experienced. 

Following this enchanting tune is title track ‘Eurus’. It describes how the Greek gods took responsibility for every natural phenomenon and human emotion and how they controlled the non-pagans with harsh taxes and laws. It also slightly mentions human mortality and controversy pertaining to the afterlife, but more will come of that in the next vocal track, ‘Hieroglyphs’. 

A separation provided by the adorably comedic transitional piece ‘A Convocation of Fauns(A Faunvocation, If You Will)’ brings us into the final two tracks. ‘Hieroglyphs’ provides the same group atmosphere presented in ‘Grow’ and ‘Eurus’ along with a similar, upbeat message. So many people waste their entire lives obsessing over where they are going after they are dead, and before they know it they have let their entire one life flash by. If they aren’t worried about where they are going, they are worried about who is going to stop them. In fighting these imaginary evils, we manifest one deep inside ourselves. In the act of obsessing over the afterlife and God and Satan and whatnot, we are turning our own minds against us and becoming our own worst enemies. We then create this unending cycle of worry and violence that should never have come to fruition. In short, don’t worry about where you are going. Don’t worry about what lies eons ahead. Focus on your life because before you know it, it will be gone.

Most birds in the animal kingdom can fall under the category of a passerine, but many fall under two specific categories- songbird or prey. Those are the two types of birds referenced by the Heath siblings in the final track, ‘Passerine’. This song continues the group energy to the end, but somewhat dims the overall positivity. The passerines in question here are the followers of Jesus. They were intended to be songbirds, singing of the love of Christ, but something went wrong and they became nothing but weak little birds of prey. Their Messiah was killed and they were persecuted for over two centuries. As martyr after martyr fell and more Christians were forced to suppress their beliefs, Jesus’ followers became pitiful game for the Romans and other leaders. 

In the modern day, Christians populate one third of the entire world, making it the largest standing religion to this day. That statistic simply defends the entire premise of Eurus. Your life will change, and it will be for the better. There is no need to push yourself in a million different directions or obsessively worry about where you are going once you are six feet under. The world lives on, and so will you. Whether you believe in some kind of god or not, it is vital for you to know that everything will work out without you forcing it to. Bad things happen, but it is those bad things and bad events that lead us to the best parts of our lives. For example, I found my life’s passion through one of the most stressful and depressing periods of my life. There is a silver lining to everything, and even if you do not believe it now, you will find it. Everything will be okay, Internet. Go enjoy yourselves.

“Let be what is, let be what isn't It's a natural world in which we're living And if you let it alone, it will surely grow Just leave it alone, child, and let it go“

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Super Heroes are a HUMAN power fantasy Part 1

Master Post

Super Heroes are a HUMAN power fantasy Part 2

Osvaldo Oyola , J. Lamb and Noah Berlatsky (who hates super heroes on principle btw), along with other dumbasses, have often said they are male/white supremacist power fantasies.

Nah fam. They are nothing more and nothing less than a HUMAN power fantasy.

Follow me along here for a while.

Human beings are animals.

We are. That’s a simple matter of scientific fact.

When push comes to shove we are really, really, really smart monkeys who share something like 50+% genes in common with chimpanzees.

As animals and all forms of life the overwhelming majority of us are biologically hardwired towards one ultimate goal: survival.

The desire to survive drives us innately in ways that go unnoticed most of the time. As we evolved into smarter creatures with higher brain functions capable of comprehending the world around us and constructing complex relationships and societies, that survival instinct was reinterpreted through various means.

The survival instinct in human beings and other mammals takes several forms but most commonly can boil down to two things:

a)      Survival through preservation of the individual

b)      Survival through procreation

Type a) involves getting food, shelter, rest, avoiding and recovering from injury and of course defending one’s self from threats, which can take the form of other living creatures, including members of our own species.

Type b) involves spawning offspring and at the same time looking after their wellbeing.

But the survival instinct goes deeper than that because we are biologically hardwired to work towards the protection of our very species. That is the very reason why type a) and b) even exist. By preserving ourselves and our offspring our species survives.

We are also communal animals. Much like chimpanzees and gorillas we live in groups for mutual benefit and protection. Thus, as part of survival of ourselves, our offspring and our species, we have a biological investment in protecting members of our group and of our species.

But seemingly paradoxically we are also hardwired to compete with and fight one another. This likely a by-product of how in the wild we’d have to compete for resources like food and shelter. Sometimes this involves two different groups from the same species competing with one another for survival.

Why am I telling you this? Well, because deep down all those things I have just talked about are innate to 99% of all human beings. It is little wonder that as we as a species evolved we expressed these biological driving forces in certain ways no other creatures could.

This is where the concept of our deities, Gods and figures from folklore and myth come from.

Jupiter, Vishnu, Thor, Hercules, Sun Wukong, Sampson, the Biblical version of Jesus Christ.

Whether they adopt the form of human beings or other entities, virtually every single culture on Earth, even those in isolation of one another, have conceived of beings greater than themselves. Beings with abilities beyond the average human being. And they’ve also conceived of those beings from time to time using their abilities to defy the laws of nature (such as averting natural disasters), combat dangerous or malevolent forces/creatures/individuals, and/or safeguarding the lives of others.

It is a form of explaining the world around us, and an act of wish fulfilment of the human experience.

We want to survive and since we are by our nature group animals we desire to be protected. Thus we conceive beings greater than ourselves who could potentially do that.

We want to survive by preserving our individual selves, so we imagined beings that are so powerful that they are not as reliant upon rest and sustenance like normal people. And who are powerful enough that they either cannot be easily harmed and are are capable of defending themselves from potential threats.

We have within us a vested biological interest in preserving our species, and so are hardwired to protect members of our family/group; our kin. Thus as part of our human wish fulfilment fantasies we imagine beings we’d like to be who could have the power to protect members of our species.

We then come to the modern superhero.

Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Spider-Man, etc. Fundamentally they are the exact same thing.

Individuals with powers beyond those of the average human being, who use those powers to help and protect people, typically from numerous threats (which most commonly take the form of individuals with malevolent intentions). This can include perceived social ills which plague society and by extension pose a threat to the survival or quality of life of ordinary citizens.

One can exchange Hercules fighting the mythological Hydra for Superman fighting Darkseid or Captain America fighting H.Y.D.R.A. terrorists and it is ultimately the same thing. Batman battling crime in Gotham city fundamentally is no different from Theseus defeating criminals and bandits on his travels. When Spider-Man swings into action to save Mary Jane from the Green Goblin, it is an expression of much the same thing the Indian deity Rama went through to save his bride Sita.

Many super heroes though are also vigilantes, someone who imposes their own sense of morality whilst working outside of the law. Vigilantes in the real world and in myths, folklore, fiction and so on can also be found throughout history. Perhaps the most notable example being Robin Hood, who denounced his noble status to steal from the rich and give what he took to the poor who were being over taxed and oppressed by a corrupt system. Other examples would be the Scarlet Pimpernel or Zorro.

What I am trying to say is that at their core, modern day super heroes are fundamentally modern riffs of the folkloric and mythic traditions and/or similar expressions of the universal human experience (which are informed by innate biological imperatives).

Ostensibly, in creating Superman (the first true superhero), Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster were either:

a)      Consciously/subconsciously influenced by these older mythic stories when they created Superman (and thus birthed the entire genre), or

b)      basically tapped into the same kind of thinking which birthed Robin Hood, Hercules, Sun Wukong, etc. in the first place. Across the centuries great minds seemingly thought alike

Superman in particular was possibly heavily influenced by the figure of super strong Sampson or the Clay Golem of Prague, both of whom are part of Jewish religion and folklore (Siegel and Shuster being Jewish immigrants). He might even be seen as a kind of Moses figure. Someone sent away from his natural people to grow up elsewhere, but nevertheless destined for greatness. Or maybe he was just a messiah figure. Whether Siegel and Shuster had Jesus Christ in their minds at all or not, the Jewish religion does (I believe) talk about a saviour figure and Superman could very well be an expression of that.

Figuring into Superman’s creation was 1930s depression and the shadow of impending global war as Hitler was gathering power and invaded Poland the year after Superman was created. In his debut Superman is not only superhumanly powerful but uses these powers as a vigilante to do things like:

·         stop wife beaters

·         rescue someone framed for murder, whilst apprehending the real murderer

·         capture gangsters and rescue a kidnapped person (Lois Lane)

·         bring a corrupt politician to justice

This was an expression of 1930s fears and frustrations. Of Siegel and Shuster’s desires to right the wrongs of a system which was perceived to be broken…or at least envision someone who could do that seemingly impossible task.

The next year in 1939, Batman would come along and express many of these sentiments even more acutely, in particular when it came to crime.

As time went by and the superhero genre was consolidated and evolved, many heroes had their histories altered in order to make them more coherent. In Batman’s specific case his home of Gotham city was painted as so utterly corrupt from the lowest criminal to the most powerful political figures that Batman was literally the one and only effective deterrent to crime. Hope of legal or political reform was next to impossible, thus Batman’s brand of vigilantism was the only thing which could stand in the way of criminals from just doing whatever they wanted.

Bearing all this in mind the idea that the superhero genre is an inherent white construction (and therefore inherently racist, deliberately or otherwise) is, you know…fucking bullshit.

There is a difference between something defined by someone of one race or another and it being something which in indicative to them ONLY. There is also a difference between something having ‘white supremacist undertones’ and something simply being created at a certain point in time when cultural norms were (sadly) different to what they became later on.

As originally created Superman (and by extension the genre) was functionally the same kind of wish fulfilment expressesed by countless storytellers from countless cultures across human history, all informed by universal biological impulses to survive.

Yes, the superhero genre was created and constructed by white people and is therefore literally a ‘white construction’. Yes there weren’t many (if any) non-white characters outside of horrible racial stereotypes. Yes many of them took the law into their own hands.

But that doesn’t mean they are in support of white supremacist notions ala the Ku Klux Klan.

In fact given that Siegel and Shuster were of Jewish immigrant descent, one could argue that Superman was a reflection of how minorities need to be BETTER than the majority to be accepted and/or he was arguably an expression of their frustrations at being mistreated themselves an minorities.

On the other hand let’s say that ‘white supremacy’ strictly meant that superheroes operated with the belief in white people being the default, and as the majority, they were better than the non-whites. Superman was created at a time of segregation after all.

The problem is there is no evidence I know in support of Superman, by his mere existence, is consciously implying that white people are better than non-white people. I wouldn’t put it past Siegel and Shuster to believe that given the times they were from, but ALL media was like that. To an extent they honestly didn’t know any better. But just because they believed that and the social context of the time informed people of this, that doesn’t mean that those ideas are inherent to the superhero genre.

Because again, the superhero genre ultimately embodies beliefs and practices which date back throughout human history and can be found in many non-white cultures.

Yes. Their brand of heroism and the beliefs about heroism they embody were gifted to them by their white creators. And those creators were informed by white social norms (as in the white society they grew up in informed Siegel and Shuster that wife beating was bad). But that doesn’t mean that the superhero moral compass is inherently something that is itself white by design. Rather, it goes beyond that to form a mostly universal form of morality. And lest we forget American society and its laws were mostly informed by Jewish and Christian religious beliefs and practices, which themselves were not only innovated centuries before American society, but by people who were NOT white.

Yes, these superheroes are vigilantes, many of which wear masks and employ secret identities. But not only is that a matter of practicality within their work, as well as part of generating drama within the narrative, but this does not (as the above mentioned dumbasses believe) mean they are inheriting a legacy from the Ku Klux Klan.

Theseus and Robin Hood acted as vigilantes of a sort who again predate the KKK. The Scarlet Pimpernel is widely regarded as the originator of the secret identity trope, and he was created by a Hungarian born British woman!

Just because a superhero might act as a vigilante and impose their sense of morality outside of the law (maybe even using force to do it) doesn’t equate them with the KKK, because it completely and utterly ignores the specifics of the circumstances. It is like saying anyone who kills is a serial killer, when they might have killed for justifiable reasons. Superman and Batman might be operating as vigilantes with secret identities but we the readers can plainly see that they are genuinely justified in what they are doing.

But that’s because the writer has established that!

I hear you cry.

Yes that is true...so what though?

If the writer has set up circumstances which justify the superheroes actions then you can’t just IGNORE those. You can’t just choose the evidence you take under consideration to fit the conclusion you want. In this case that’d be the interpretation of superheroes are endorsements of white supremacist notions ala the KKK or police officers who abuse their powers.

That’s like desiring to interpret Star Wars as the story of white supremacy because the ‘black’ clad figures of the Empire are ultimately overthrown by the white Rebel Alliance and the ‘light side' of the force. It ignores the respective actions of the Empire and Alliance in-story.

It’s is presuming the Empire to represent black people and the Alliance white people in the first place and then working backwards from there. Equally it is presuming superheroes to be stand-ins for ACTUAL police officers or KKK style vigilantes in the first place.

And that cop analogy inherently doesn’t work because superheroes are only SIMILAR to cops. The analogy ultimately breaks down because they aren’t subject to ANY legal sanctions, many of them do not kill and their crime fighting efforts stereotypically takes the form of them intervening ONLY if they hear about a crime/crisis ahead of time or if they observe it in progress.

I mean one of the above morons conflated Spider-Man’s Spider-Sense to be a stand in for racial profiling which is an utterly inappropriate analogy. The Spider-Sense was originally constructed as a clumsy plot device that first and foremost operated as a personalised danger sense to Spider-Man of threats. Outside of contrived writing it categorically doesn’t alert him to ANY potential crime or criminal. And it doesn’t discriminate the way racial profiling does. It more often than not allows him to pinpoint precisely who might be a potential threat because they ARE a potential threat.

Spider-Man or Superman or Batman in the course of their work have these skills and it enables them to be ABOVE things like racial profiling. Again, taking their stalking of a potential criminal to be a tacit approval of police methods is an interpretation being overlaid ONTO   the superhero and then presumed to be factually what it is.

But it’s not.

It’s just an (mis)interpretation of what is going on informed by one person’s personal experiences and baggage through life. It is the same kind of logic which will take say a female character who has a male love interest as 100% definitely an enforcement of the idea that women ‘need a man’ to validate them when that isn’t necessarily the case of the story at all.

Building upon this is the oft-repeated interpretation that superheroes are fascists and are supportive of fascist values. That is an incredibly simplistic and literal reading of the superhero genre that ignores aspects plain as day on the page of the stories. It again is CHOOSES to see something in the concept which frankly misses the point but is nevertheless accepted as plain fact regardless.

An article in the Atlantic addresses this very eloquently:

This [fascist] reading of superheroes is common but wrong, a symptom of trying to impose political ideology on a universal, fictional myth. Superheroes do say something about the real world, but it’s something pretty uncontroversial: We want to see good triumph over evil, and “good” in this case means more than just defeating the bad guy—it means handling power responsibly.

The “fascism” metaphor breaks down pretty quickly when you think about it. Most superheroes defeat an evil power but do not retain any power for themselves. They ensure others’ freedom. They rarely deal with the government, and when they do it is with wariness, as in the Iron Man films, where Tony Stark refuses to hand over control of his inventions.

Indeed, superhero tales are full of subplots about how heroes limit their own power: hibernating once the big bad guy has been defeated, wearing disguises to live ordinary lives, choosing not to give into the temptation to ally with the villain or use their powers for profit or even civilizational progress. That’s because the creators of some of the most foundational superhero tales weren’t writing solely out of a power fantasy. They were writing out of a fantasy that a truly good people who find themselves with power might use that power only for good—and only in the face of extreme evil.

YES superheroes are a power fantasy.

But there is NOTHING wrong with power fantasies so long as one understands the distinction between the fiction and reality.

More than this...the hard truth is violence is part of being human. We are biologically hard wired to be violent and dominate others. That is innate to us like many, many, many animals. The flipside to that though is what also makes us human is the ability (and perhaps more importantly the DESIRE) to NOT be like that.

Most superhero fiction simultaneously offers us the opportunity to enforce those values whilst at the same time providing us with a safe outlet for our violent urges. We transfer those urges into the heroes and villains fighting one another. Kinda like how in Ancient Rome gladiator fights and other spectacles were used as a way of avoiding the populace of Rome from erupting into violence.

And don’t sit there and tell me that they ENCOURAGE violence.

If someone is going to be violent like that frankly there are almost ALWAYS further underlying factors often to do with their home life And

Human beings have been killing each other and acting in immoral ways LONG before the invention of popular media. Preventing ourselves from being like that is an act of learned control as we grow up. It is otherwise innate to our instincts.

Furthermore the concept of superheroes as being police officers who enforce the status quo and therefore help keep white people in power is incredibly flawed.

First of all Doc Ock nuking New York city hurts everyone regardless of race. Second of all Batman stopping a mugger in the middle of assaulting someone isn’t upholding white power, it’s just safeguarding life. Reading it as more than that is a projection these asshats are injecting INTO the stories themselves when they aren’t warranted.

Finally, the law might be stacked in favour of white power and minority suppression. But that not only has a lot to do with ABUSE of the law, but at the same time large chunks of the law are there legitimately for the well being of EVERYONE. It is illegal to murder someone, to mug them, to exploit them. None of that ensures white power, it ensures the well being of everyone. The problem is that those laws are often warped when being applied to minorities by the police force.

But superheroes don’t represent the police force. They represent something grander than the police force whilst at the same time representing what the police force SHOULD be like. The message isn’t ‘this is what the police are like’ or even ‘the police are heroes so anything they do is therefore a good thing’. It is providing a strong moral ideal and saying ‘You and everyone else should try to be like this’.

It is because of this that the superhero concept REVEALS the warts and shortcomings of the law and law enforcement as it really exists. Which was a part of 1930s frustrations Superman et al were giving vent to. Again, Action Comics #1 showed us corrupt politicians, commentating upon a flawed system.

Basically Superman being who he is doesn’t tell people that a police officer is justified when he racially profiles a black person as a criminal. Quite the opposite, he reveals us that they were WRONG in doing that because Superman would NEVER do that.

Ultimately, yeah these characters were created within a white context, but my point is fundamentally the same thing was created in non-white contexts as well throughout history.

Super Heroes are a HUMAN power fantasy Part 2

Master Post

[w-ngs]

may20

feels weird writing about something as mundane as a ~monthly completeds~ during a literal fuckin’ revolution, so i just wanted to point whoever might end up reading this to my second to last post where i linked: 1) a website with multiple other links to donate to and 2) a link to a free (!!!!!) youtube video that you can watch without skipping ads to help generate revenue for even more donations. we can at least do this much to help our black brothers and sisters.

~ pachinko, min jin lee — originally i was going to make a full, separate post about this book because oh my god how beautifully tragic and culturally eye-opening of a book. but it actually took me uh... around 3 months to finish reading because it kinda got forgotten in the middle of moving back home from college and quarantine and all the other coronavirus business. i don’t want to butcher what i remember about the first half, so i moved it to here. great ready, this is going to be kind of a long one. while reading, i was fully struck by how i literally know nothing, NOTHING about my korean culture. koreans as a whole have suffered discrimination in ways i didn’t know asians could suffer. what made it even more mind-boggling was that it was discrimination by other asians. the japanese, to be specific. honestly, i got nothing against them. my parents are very staunchly on one side (you can probably guess which) and rightly so. they’re products of a fading japanese imperialism, so there’s no reason for them not to have strong opinions about japan. what i feel like i should have expected, but really didn’t, was how much death was a prevailing factor within all the stories. it’s everywhere. and because of that, as well as other factors such as racism or depression or sickness or even freak accidents, no one even came close to living what most people would categorize as a happy life (i say most people because i’m kind of iffy about the concept of “happiness,” so whenever i refer to the feeling it’s more in a generally accepted definition of the word). not a single person was able to escape suffering on the basis of ethnicity. lol there was one moment where i wondered how they could tell koreans apart from japanese because there are times when i can barely tell different asians apart myself. but i guess since koreans in japan (and in general, except our mans koh hansu) lived less privileged lifestyles, it would be easy to tell with a glance at their outer appearance. another aspect about this story i found striking was lee’s writing style. although simple, it added just enough detail to really make that emotional punch hit you right in the gut. there were some characters i felt more attached to than others (noah and sunja, you two will live in my heart), but there wasn’t a single person’s story i didn’t want to read about. each one offered glimpses into lives of koreans who moved to japan to try and live better lives. but alas, hardships exist no matter where one goes. lee’s book taught me that there is so much more to my culture than what i’m only currently exposed to, and it made me want to know more. more about my history and the people that suffered and died to try and create a better world for their children.

~ educated, tara westover — see my full post about this book here! also, just read it. you won’t regret it.

~ an enchantment of ravens, margaret rogerson — cindy (readwithcindy on youtube; i love her check her out) gushed about this book so much in her past videos it made me really hyped to read it as well. except i was really disappointed, lol. her biggest point was that the book’s basically all fluff, which is true for some parts. but the fluff ain’t even that fluffy. i was excepting cotton candy/make-your-teeth-ache fluff, but it was meh. honestly i think my favorite character was either gadfly (what a savage) or aster (what a psychotic but still adorable girl). i did like the concept of “craft” and its consequences/benefits. the world-building was well thought out and overall an interesting take on faeries. i’d recommend it to people who are in the mood to enjoy a short and simple romance fantasy story.

~ the grand design, leonard mlodinow & stephen hawking — the book i actually wanted to read instead was a brief history of time, but that wasn’t available in my library’s ebook app yet. so i picked this one because it sounded interesting (multiverse theory! wow!) and i was truly not disappointed. i also had no idea what my brain was absorbing more than half the time and i don’t think i retained even a fourth of what was said. but they did talk about some cool things, like parallel universes and how we literally create our own past by trying to figure out how it happened. and how there are infinite choices we could have made but those don’t end up mattering because the choices we made are what have placed us where we are now. or something along those lines. a very cool book. wish i had the brain capacity to appreciate it more fully.

~ lol also i made a post about crash landing on you if anyone wants to read it haha

[lilith-lovett]

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Sixteen

We have arrived in Act 2 and Logan is now officially Patton’s son but how long will that happiness last, prepare yourself for more angst and heartbreak to come but don’t worry there will be plenty of fluff in there for you also. Thank you for you support and kind comments.

Masterlist

Summary: The time has arrived for Logan to leave 

Word Count: 7972 (prepare yourself for some longer chapters)

Warnings: Past child abuse, bullying, hospital mention, self-deprecation, panic attack, non-verbal, swearing, reference to injuries, bruises, implied depression, disordered eating, death mention. (If there is anything I was missed please let me know).

Logan was waiting at the window. He had hardly slept that night, recalling Patton’s promise to him, for him to return the following day to take him home. Home. He had never had a home before. His parents house was more comparable to a museum then a family home, filled with precious artefacts which he would be severely punished if he touched. Even his room was bare apart from the simple bed and desk though he spent more nights locked in the nightmarish closest, clawing at the walls and gasping for air. That was not a home. The Orphanage was not a home to Logan either, with the shared living space he was segregated within, he had no space of his own, the others had no care for his personal privacy or his possessions, they were violated and destroyed. That was not a home.

What would Patton’s house be like? Logan thought as he gazed wistfully out of the window and onto the street. He imagined it would be large, given the size of his family, but simultaneously cosy with decorative pillows and soft blankets draped across the sizeable couch. Toys and games scattered in organised chaos around the living area, Roman’s artwork framed and mounted on the wall, along side the family portraits - mostly of his children of course - each wall painted a different blindingly bright colour. A wide expense of kitchen, perfect for the preparation of a multitude of incredible dishes, producing an wonderful odour which would flow through the entire house, reaching every room and seeping through the walls becoming apart of the foundation. That was a home.

Logan had packed his minimal belongings the night before, all of his clothes, shoes and personal items fitting into a single rucksack, he placed underneath his bed ready to be collected the minute Patton arrived. But until then he was stuck, looking out of the window, while the other kids laughed and played around him though Logan didn’t take much notice but he was aware of the certain happiness which had entered the Orphanage since Madame Claire was arrested and they were free of her control. The common room didn’t seem so horrible any more.

Just as Logan paid no attention to them, they paid him no mind, which seemed to be a common occurrence since returning from the hospital. Gone were the nasty comments whispered behind his back or spoken within full hearing range, the 10 pm beating leaving him to pick himself up off the floor and treat his ever growing number of injuries. They treated him with a sense of civility, presumably out of thanks for taking the brunt of Madame Claire’s abuse and the one who led to her long awaited arrest. Perhaps Logan had also thought to harshly of his fellow orphans who were also facing cruelty at the hands of their supposed guardians and were mere products of their environment, as was he. They banded together for survival purposes, using a pack like mentality to serve as protection against any potential threats or danger. It was understandable. Had Logan been raised differently he expected he would do the same for the sake of survival in a world which had not treated them kindly. Logan remained separated, though now by personal choice rather then his fellow orphans hatred of him and they all lived in a strange sense of harmony.

Logan pressed his fingers to the glass in order to get a better view. The anticipation was killing him - figuratively of course - and every time he saw a pedestrian cross the street his heart leapt into his throat, only to sink again when a stranger was revealed instead of Patton. This occurred several times until he caught a splash of yellow, a yellow so familiar to him, it was the yellow rain jacket which had been worn on every single one of Patton’s visits and he couldn’t conceal the audible squeak of excitement as he leapt to his feet and near ran out of the common room for the boys dormitory to collect his rucksack with a sense of child like wonder he had thought lost but it didn’t last for long.

“And where do you think you are going in such a hurry, Lobot?” Brandon asked his voice thick with hatred and mockery. He was blocking Logan entry into the dorm, wicked grin widening as he approached. It seemed not all of his former bullies were content leaving him alone.

“Let me through, Brandon,” Logan demanded standing a little straighter in an attempt to make himself seem more imposing but Brandon only laughed.

“No, I don’t think I will, everyone else might have backed off but not me. I am only just getting started with you,” Brandon said taking another step forward as Logan took one back.  

“Your efforts will all be for naught as I am leaving you and this place today,” Logan announced raising his chin only for Brandon to bark out a laugh in response, the harshness of the sound causing Logan to flinch.

“Ha, don’t make me laugh. How pathetic are you to believe that man would want to adopt you?” Brandon spat backing Logan into the wall. “I bet he will just be like all of the others, they will pretend to love you, pretend to care for you and then…they will leave you,”.

“No, Pat…Mr Hart isn’t like that?” Logan exclaimed refusing to believe any more lies.

“No Logan, your dear Patton is exactly like that. He will see soon enough what a horrible mistake he made in choosing you and you will be back,” Brandon growled like an animal pressing one hand against Logan’s chest to keep him from escaping. “You will be all…alone,”.

Logan voice-box spasmed painfully in his throat as he opened his mouth to retort but no sound came out, with those five words Brandon had stolen his voice and he was helpless to defend himself, so instead he hung his head and awaited the first hit which never came.

“You will be back Lobot and when you do I will be here waiting for you,” Brandon said and smiled a final time before releasing Logan who stumbled barely catching himself as Brandon sauntered off, leaving Logan with a dangerous swirl of thoughts in his head.

You will be all alone.

Alone

Alone

Alone

Logan picked himself up and charged into his room, settling on his bed in attempt to settle his hammering heart and rapid breathing. He threw his bag across the room and run his hand through his hair again and again, wishing he could scream but his voice was trapped inside. He sat on the edge of his bed, running his hands up and down his arms as he fought an internal war and attempted to count through the breathing technique Patton had taught him, in attempt to control his quickening breaths. Until he heard a faint knock on the door, he silenced his choked breaths, fearing Brandon had returned to further torture him but when the door opened it revealed a boy…Noah he believed his name was. A small - far to small - quiet boy around eight or nine who Logan hadn’t heard say anything more than a few words. He wasn’t one of Brandon’s cronies but he hadn’t leapt to Logan’s rescue the minute he was cornered but Logan hadn’t expected him too.

Noah stared at Logan’s sorry state with a troubled expression on his face, Logan expected him to laugh, to berate him before running off to tell the others he found the robot crying but Noah did none of those things. Instead he closed the door, softly without making a sound, walked soundlessly over towards Logan’s bed and sat down beside him, risking short glances towards him every so often as Logan wrung his hands and rocked back and forth.

“A-are you okay?” Noah asked his voice barely louder than a whisper as he tapped his fingertips against his thighs. Logan was momentarily stunned, he had never expected one of his fellow orphans, the children who frequently bullied and were a source of years of torment for him, to attempt to comfort him. His head snapped around quickly causing Noah to flinch back at the intensity.

“Are you alright, I heard what Brandon said. He is a…bastard,” Noah repeated a little louder this time before breaking into a fit of soft giggles at the rude term he had used, lessening the weight on Logan’s chest slightly.

Logan nodded his head, as his voice had yet to return, perplexed by the suddenness of Noah’s concern.

“That is…good, I guess…Um, I just wanted to say sorry, we were all jerks to you,” Noah admitted both the confession and apology shocked Logan to the point he had almost entirely forgotten about his altercation with Brandon.

Logan shook his head quickly in response.

“No, you did everyone a favour in…getting rid of…her,” Noah stammered out as if the memory of Madame Claire plagued him still just as it did Logan.

Logan shook his head again, slower this time, momentarily confused by how he assisted in any way.

“Still, thanks. It helped,” Noah said his voice returning to it’s soft whisper as he bowed his head, long hair falling into his eyes.

Logan pointed to his own injuries and bruises before motioning to Noah who nodded before he had even finished his motion, he sighed and lifted up his shirt, which was far to big for his tiny frame, revealing a large and painful looking bruise across his abdomen and ribs.

“She found out I was the one who led Miss Maggie to seeing your bruises, it wasn’t the first time it had happened,” Noah admitted lowering his shirt, then fell silent again. This moment of consolidation between the pair felt significant as if a break through had been made in forming a relationship, perhaps a tentative friendship or at least an understanding of each other. “Uh, Maggie wanted to see you. That is why I came up, I think that guy is here,”.

Logan startled. Patton. He had completely forgotten about Patton. His throat spasmed painfully as he raised a hand to it. He couldn’t meet Patton like this, he was supposed to be going home with him, this was supposed to be a momentous occasion and not to be ruined by his over reaction to the words of a bully. Noah seemed to notice Logan drastic change in demeanour as his expression once again changed to concern.

“It will be alright, if this guy is a good as I have heard, you will be okay,” Noah said laying a tentative hand on Logan’s shoulder. “And don’t worry about your voice, it happens to me all of the time, okay?”.

Logan glanced up at his strange new acquaintance curiously, he didn’t know any of the specifics of Noah’s past, he knew that like his own it certainly wasn’t good. He had been hurt by the people who were supposed to care for him and that lead him here, where that abuse only continued. Just like him.

“Are you ready?” Noah asked standing and extending his hand out toward Logan, who nodded and took it graciously, allowing himself to be assisted before taking a final deep breath, collected his bag and followed Noah down to the foyer where Patton would be waiting for him.

“Logan, you are here,” Maggie exclaimed when she caught sight of Logan, she paused for a moment presumably taking note of Logan’s dishevelled appearance and her expression swiftly converted to one of concern as her gaze flitted between Noah and himself.

“Logan can’t talk right now but other than that he is okay,” Noah said who glanced towards Logan as he explained briefly the situation which Logan was incredible grateful for. Noah’s voice had quietened again but not to the extent where he became impossible to understand.

“Are you sure, Logan?” Maggie asked a hint of worry present in her tone as she presumably studied him, he nodded in response and the tension eased from her shoulders somewhat. “Okay, well, are you already to head off?”.

Logan glanced over to where Patton was stood for the first time since arriving in the foyer, he was dressed as he typically was with a sheepish grin stretched across his lips. Logan imagined he had worried Patton also and an overwhelming feeling of guilt crawled over him as he averted his gaze to his floor, clutching his bag tighter to his chest which didn’t escape the notice of Patton who had been becoming increasing perceptive these days.

“It is alright Logan, you can take all the time you need to say goodbye,” Patton said throwing him a smile when Logan eventually worked up the courage to meet his eye.

Logan turned to Noah first who was in the process of attempting to sneak away, presumably believing he was interrupting, he caught his eye and smiled as it was the only form of communication he could manage. Noah returned the smile, speaking his goodbyes without words but they reached Logan nonetheless. He believed perhaps in a different time and place, without the burden and memory of their pasts a top their shoulders and the fight for survival, the two of them could have been friends, close friends, able to confide in each other and share common interests but fate hadn’t been kind to either of them. Logan hoped Noah would to find his ‘Patton’. Next he turned to Maggie, the woman who had fought and advocated for him even in the moments when he did not earn or deserve her support, she had been his only ally in this lonely place and every day he was eternally grateful for her company.

“I told you so,” Maggie giggled as she wiped away a few tears, referring to the open day where she had told him to not lose hope, the very day he met Patton and that day had led him to where he was now. “I don’t know what I am going to do without you, reading isn’t going to be nearly as fun but don’t you worry about me, you won’t get a rid of me that easily. You may be entering a new and exciting chapter of your life but just as I told you before, circumstances may change and we may be apart but I will never leave you, Logan,”.

Maggie was crying openly now, Logan too was fighting back tears now and then he did something entirely out of character. He threw himself into Maggie’s arms, squeezing tightly just as he felt hers wind around his slight frame, holding on just as tight. Eventually they broke apart and she pressed a final kiss to his forehead as he left to stand by Patton side.

“You are welcome to come over any time you like, you too kiddo,” Patton said Noah jolting in surprise at his mention then smiling and nodding in response.

“Thank you Patton,” Maggie said dabbing at her wet cheeks. “Goodbye Logan,”.

Logan smiled once again and waved as he left with Patton, leaving between the Orphanage he had spent the last two years of his life, where he had been tortured and tormented for simply being. He was leaving that all behind and beginning a new life. Logan Baxter would become Logan Hart…he only hoped he would live up to the name.

Patton could barely contain his excitement as he drove home, Logan sat in the passenger seat just like he had imagined though not present in his fantasies was Logan’s silence. Noah hadn’t explained what caused Logan to become non-verbal and Patton hadn’t pressed the subject any further, hoping in due time his voice would return to him, instead he attempted to fill the weighty silence with his soft humming along to the radio as he snuck glances at Logan every so often. He was staring out of the window, presumably studying his surroundings as he fidgeted unconsciously with the cube in his hand, nervousness present in his rigid posture and frantic hands.

“Hey Logan, I know this is a massive change for you and I want you to feel comfortable and safe, so I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do or talk about and please tell me if I am doing something wrong or making you uncomfortable. Your happiness is my top priority,” Patton said after an elongated silence. He knew breaking down Logan’s walls would be difficult but he was determined and wouldn’t give up so easily. “The kids are all pretty excited to see you again, they want to give you a tour of the house and show you your new room, we can also go shopping for clothes and some things to decorate your room if you like?”.

The conversation continued to flow with Patton firing out different topics and statements while Logan reacted, nodding, shaking his head and even smiling at some points but despite the lengthy car journey Logan’s voice still hadn’t returned which sparked a negative swirl of thoughts. What if he was being to much? Going to fast? What if Logan had changed his mind and he didn’t want to be adopted by him? Patton cut off the dangerous downward spiral of negativity with a few deep breaths, Emile’s advice ringing in his ears and shooting a smile towards Logan who had paused in his observations to eye Patton’s change in demeanour curiously, in an effort to appease him.

“I am so happy you are here Logan ,” Patton said watching as Logan’s pale complexion blushed and Patton outwardly squealed. “Aw kiddo, you are so cute,”.

Logan spluttered and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away in a mock annoyance as Patton laughed at the display. They would be just fine. As a family, they would support each other through all difficulties which may arise and through times of both light and darkness and come out stronger together. He had faith they would be okay.

 “Well kiddo, we are here,” Patton announced as Logan shrank back, his former apprehension returning. “Come on, you have nothing to worry about, I promise,”.

Logan nodded and collected his belongings, walking cautiously behind Patton as they approached the large house. It was surprisingly big and well-maintained, particularly the front garden; a luscious green lawn, a combination of wild flowers and potted plants skillfully arranged in an explosion of colour and pleasant fragrances, bees buzzing happily from flower to flower. Azaleas, freesias, geraniums, hydrangeas and others of all varieties in full bloom. Logan couldn’t recall the last time he had seen such a breath-taking garden, evident from it’s appearance it was well-loved by it’s carer. Upon entering the house they were met with Roman, Virgil, Declan and a man he did not recognise, waiting in what Logan presumed to be the general living area from the choice in furnishings and the ‘homey’ atmosphere.

“We are back, did you miss us?”Patton said as Declan rushed into his arms and Patton lifting him, balancing the toddler on his hip but the others attention was all turned upon Logan.

“Welcome Logan, Patton has told me all about you. I’m Emile, kind of the honorary uncle,” Emile explained as he extended a hand to Logan which he took out of politeness, Patton had informed him of his rather strange relationship with Emile - who had a rather unnatural hair colour - that he was in fact not related to the family in any way and was actually Patton’s close friend but took the place of the children ‘uncle’ as Patton had no siblings himself. He also explained that Emile was a therapist, a field which Logan found fascinating but struggled himself to comprehend and for an unknown reason he felt somewhat self-conscious in the presence of a therapist who may easily be able to read his expressions and mannerisms. “Do you how do?”.

“Just ignore that,” Virgil said seeming to note Logan confusion in regards to the grammatically incorrect statement. “Long time no see,”. Logan merely nodded in response - as it was all he in the moment could do - which gained him a rather strange look from both Virgil and Roman he could not decipher.

“Well now you are here, let us make haste and begin the grand tour,” Roman proclaimed with a dramatic sweep of the arm. “Come dear brethren, to our first location the living room,”.

“Unfortunately, I will have to miss the tour, I am needed back at work but I was nice meeting you Logan,” Emile said before saying his goodbyes and exiting as the tour commenced.

Beginning in the living room - where they were already stood - Roman began retelling the several stylistic choices with Patton chiming in every so often as Virgil collapsed onto the couch, Declan crawling over to nestle in beside him. The living room was moderately sized, open-planned leading to the dining and kitchen area through an archway, with a staircase leading to the second storey on the left. The walls were a pale blue with a single yellow accent wall which held the majority of the decorations, picture frames and a sizeable shelf holding; various miscellaneous knick-knacks, books and a large framed family portrait. Furniture filled almost all available space, from the enormous couch which sat in the centre of the room, adorned in decorative cushions and the softest looking blankets Logan believed he had ever seen also in a variety of bright colours and interesting patterns, a similarly styled armchair sat adjacent to the couch. Toy and games congregated in a organised clutter in each corner and no space was left unfilled by personal items which only someone as unique as Patton would own. Light flooded into the room through the wide open windows and a pleasant aroma of lavender was emitted from half burned candles laid on the coffee table. 

Moving on, into the kitchen and dining area, the bright theme continued with the walls painted this time a much brighter azure. A sizeable dining table, seating eight, filled the majority of the room with each seat covering colour corresponding to the favourite colour of a family member, a glass vase filled with wild flowers similar to those seen in the garden acted as the centrepiece. To the right, was the gigantic and well-loved kitchen, from the first look it was evidently Patton’s area of the house with a matching soft grey and baby blue appearance. Appliances and baking supplies covered the expanse of counter-space, a variety novelty items such as cooking utensils and cutlery were proudly displayed and a overwhelming amount of cookery and baking themed puns were littered throughout the kitchen and Patton’s consistent giggling only grew louder. To the left, held a bathroom and utility room, both of which Roman purposefully skipped instead excitably rushing upstairs to where the bedrooms were situated.

“My room first!” Roman announced bounding down the hallways passing several other doorways, pausing in front of the one decorated in several brightly coloured stickers referencing things Logan did not recognise.

Roman’s room was much like Roman himself. Dramatic. With crimson walls, accented with white and gold, decorated in a variety of signed posters, artwork and other theatrical adornments, a queen size canopy bed sat against one wall with a similar red and gold coloured bed-spread patterned with tiny crowns fitting with the ‘princely’ theme, a stuffed dragon toy sat proudly at the head. Opposite from the bed was a desk which previously may have been white but years of paint spills and bored doodles had permanently stained it, drawing utensils and half-finished drawings were strewn across the workspace in a haphazard mess which Logan desperately desired to organise. One wall contained a wardrobe overflowing with clothes, costumes and other miscellaneous items Roman presumably felt some sort of attachment to, mindless mess; purposeless knick-knack and aesthetic pieces were scattered across all available surfaces. The room had an overall sense of organised chaos, nothing at all like Logan’s old room with its pristine walls and no personal touch or flair as Roman’s had, personalised to fit Roman’s identity flawlessly.

Secondly, Virgil and Declan’s shared room, slightly smaller than Roman’s room but still moderately sized. Each brother’s section easily identified by the choices in colour and style. Virgil’s segment of the room was considerably darker than Declan’s with deep purple walls plastered with posters unlike Roman’s, handwritten notes pinned up and string lights hanging above his bed as a secondary light source, his bedspread was of a similar colour with a grey stuff donkey and a skeleton doll tucked beneath the sheets and a soft grey weighted blanket sat, folded on the edge of his bed which Logan believed was commonly used to reduce anxiety and stress in order to improve sleep. Virgil’s room also included a desk, though far neater than Roman’s still contained a considerably number of stationary spread across it, at the back portion of the desk sat a collection of journals varying in size and colour, stacked orderly via these characteristics creating a satisfying gradient affect. Adjacent to the desk was a bookcase which Logan took particular interest in, it contain numerous titles and authors he himself was familiar with specifically those focusing around gothic fiction but there was also a considerably number of modern poetry books which took him by surprise. Virgil had fewer belongings than Roman though a far greater number than himself, a guitar had been balanced against his night-stand which held a pair of purple headphones, a locked notebook and a miniature book of poems. The room was less visually distracting as Roman but just as stimulating as Logan studied his surrounding, theorising from Virgil’s withdrawn disposition he spent a great majority of his time spent in his room where he could freely express himself.

Declan’s section of the room was arguably smaller than Virgil which was understandable given the age difference and their difference in needs. The bed was smaller with barriers on each side presumably for protection purposes, the blanket was a intense sunshine yellow and perhaps the softest blanket Logan had ever witnessed in his life, it was also filled with stuffed toys, the largest being a yellow and green striped snake which engulfed much of the bed along with a variety of others. A lime green beanbag chair sat in the back corner of the room which similarly held more soft toys and on the left of the bed stood an appropriately sized cabinet, holding games, books and yet again more toys. This section provided a sharp contrast in colours given the harshness of Virgil’s area but also contributed a cheerful brightness to the otherwise dark room.

Separated from the other bedrooms was Patton’s, it was simple, modest but filled with memories, picture frames adorned every baby blue wall and surface, containing moments of importance immortalised in frozen images. Award and certificates, photo albums stacked high, set proudly on display. His own large bed was covered in a plain grey bedspread and a solitary stuffed dog sat the head. Despite its simplicity Logan felt largely at ease in Patton’s room as it held the same soothing air as Patton did as if Patton’s spirit had been built into the foundation of the house, his personality stretched throughout the many rooms, filling each of them with the same sense of comfort which Logan had grown to need.

“Now lastly, welcome to your room Logan,” Patton announced as he open the final door just across from Virgil and Declan’s, to the right of Roman’s.

The room was large, far larger than Logan had expected and already painted and  furnished with deep navy blue walls and a bed pressed again one wall, dressed in a tartan bedspread of varying shades of blue and sat in the centre was a simple stuff bear. On the opposite wall a dark wood desk which provided plenty of workspace for studying, on each side was a similarly coloured bookcase, stretching high to the ceiling, half filled with books, titles some of which he had read others of which he recognised and remembered seeing in the book-store Patton had taken him to some while ago now though still granted him enough shelf space. The room as contained an empty wardrobe waiting to be filled, a bedside table barren expect for a solitary reading lamp. Logan glanced around the room…his room with amazement and a hint of fear. All of this was his, he could hardly believe it, how much this must of cost to organise for his coming? It was far to much. He wished he had his voice to tell Patton so, he would be content with an undecorated closet, spacious enough for a simple bed and desk for it was all he required but as the thought of the cramped and narrow closet entered his mind his throat tightened further.

“It is pretty bare at the moment but over the weekend we can go shopping, you can choose some decorations and buy you some more clothes,” Patton said with a smile but Logan struggled to return it. Patton would be spending more money on him, he had done far more for Logan than anyone else had, simply being allowed into his home and accepted in his family dynamic was enough. “Well, that is the tour finished and I am starving so how about I make dinner a little earlier tonight?”. The answer was a excited exclamation from Roman, Virgil and Declan.

“Excellent, Logan do you like spaghetti bolognese?” Patton asked and to be honest Logan did not know, the meals at the orphanage rarely changed and while living with his parents he was kept on a strict diet but in order to not displease Patton he nodded.

With that Logan then found himself directed back downstairs and into the dining area, taking a seat beside Virgil who was scrolling through his cellular device, while Patton worked in the kitchen to prepare their meal. Roman who had sat diagonally to Logan, vibrated excitedly in his seat, Declan who sat adjacent to both Roman and Virgil balanced on his knees mimicking Roman’s excitement. Not long later, Patton had completed the preparations and set his plate of food down in front of him. Logan allowed the delicious smell to fill his nostrils as every one else dug in before doing so himself, pasta was always a difficult food for him to eat as it was nearly impossible for him to separate it into matching halves so he kept to his ingrained rule of only eating half of whatever he was provided but he made an effort and when he did he struggled to stop. He couldn’t recall a time when he had ingested something so delicious.

“So Logan, I have a very important question for you. What is your favourite Disney movie?” Roman asked pausing in his consumption to the phrase the serious sounding question. “You do know what Disney is, right?. Presumably gauging Logan’s confusion from his blank expression, another shake of the head gave him his answer.

“You don’t know what Disney is!” Virgil exclaimed appearing to be in a state of shock at his admission which only added to Logan’s level of perplexity.

“God, you are so uncultured,” Roman sighed his gaze returned to his meal until his eyes once again lit up. “Hey padre, can we have a movie night, we can show specs here all of our favourite movies?”.

“I don’t see why not, lets do it,” Patton said with a grin and Roman and Virgil both hurried to finish their meals before leaving the table in order to begin their preparations for the ‘movie night’ as Roman referred to it. “Don’t worry Logan, they just get a little excited. Are you finished?”.

Logan nodded, pushing away his plate with approximately half of the pasta left on his plate, Patton eyed it with a strange look before sighing and removing it with his own, in order to clean them. How stupid. Logan should be washing dishes, not allowing Patton to do it for him. He stood abruptly and made his way over to the sink where Patton was stood, to take over the job of cleaning them.

“Don’t worry about this kiddo, you go and sit and we will get started soon,” Patton said directing him to the living room while he continued cleaning.

Only a short while later, after all preparations had been made; suitable treats and refreshments provided, soft blankets tossed across their laps and films had been selected, one per sibling and a fourth chosen by Patton that he believed Logan would appreciate. They began with Roman’s pick, one of the earlier Disney films, named Sleeping Beauty which told the story of a Princess who was sent away to live in the woods with some supernatural beings and then returned sixteen years later, only to become cursed and fall into a deep sleep so a prince could come and save her. Thought the premise was rather outdated and somewhat offensive the animation style was appealing and the musical numbers enjoyable, it became evident to Logan why it was Roman’s favourite relatively quickly as he jumped up to perform every song as Virgil berated him, throwing pieces of popcorn at him. Virgil choice was The Nightmare before Christmas though it was not near any of those holidays, the plot was rather strange with some rather frightening Halloween creatures attempting to ‘steal’ Christmas by kidnapping the fabled Santa Claus and in the middle Virgil and Roman broke into a debate regarding whether or not the film should be classified as a Halloween or a Christmas film. Though Declan’s choice may have been the strangest of all, The Jungle Book in which animals could talk and a jaguar tasked himself with returning the main character to the ‘man village’ as he was being hunted by a tiger, though Logan believed Declan may have only like the film because of the inclusion of a snake as a character despite the character in question being a villain who did make an attempt on the main characters life. The final film chosen by Patton particularly for Logan, piqued his interest. Big Hero Six, in which Hiro an incredibly intelligent child with an aptitude for robotics loses his older brother in a fire and with the help of his brother’s invention a healthcare robot named Baymax and his friends forms a superhero team in order to discover what happened to his brother, initially seeking revenge but later finds forgiveness and by the end everyone bar him was crying at the ‘death’ of Baymax. Though the bitter-sweet ending was lost to Logan he appreciated the heavy inclusion of science and robotics and by the end he found himself enjoying the film.

Following the movie night, Roman and Virgil retired to their rooms and Logan collected a book from his rucksack before returning to the living room and sat beside Patton who held a drowsy Declan in his lap, gently running his fingers through his curls as Logan observed him.

“Are you okay Logan?” Patton asked a hated question of his as he rarely understood his own feelings. “You have been quiet all day,”. Logan pressed two fingers against his throat, communicating that his voice still hadn’t returned despite all his efforts but he still could scarcely make a sound.

“It is okay, this is a massive change and you are adapting to a new environment which will take time but please I want you to tell me if…” Patton was cut off.

“Dad!” Virgil called from upstairs. “Roman is being an idiot,”.

“Am not, you are the stupid one!” Roman shot back. The noise seemed to startled Declan to let out an ear-piercing cry as Logan slapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the incessant crying. Patton leapt up, immediately cradled Declan to his chest, rocking him back and forth and murmuring soothing words of comfort in an effort to calm him but to no avail. The cries only increased in volume as did the anger-fuelled bickering upstairs, the painful noise scraping against the inside of his head.

Patton seemed to note Logan’s growing distress at the influx of noise and he called upstairs as he continued to try and quiet Declan but his efforts were unsuccessful in solving the disagreement between Roman and Virgil and their argument only grew louder as they spat degrading nicknames at each other. This pattern continued for another few minutes until Logan recognised the signs of growing panic in Patton manner and expression as he found himself unable to settle the distress of Declan or the conflict between Roman and Virgil, the sight unsettled Logan it seemed unnatural for Patton’s typically happy disposition to be maimed by anxiety. So Logan did something entirely unlike him, he stood up, removed his hand from his ears despite his own spike in anxiety at the increased noise level and held out in arms.

“Oh, thank you so much, kiddo,” Patton said grateful, once he realised what Logan meant by the action and gently lowered the still screaming and squirming child into his arms before hurrying upstairs. Logan sat down with a wriggling Declan in his lap. Now what does he do now?

 “Now, I want you both to apologise to each other,” Patton said somewhat sternly to Roman and Virgil who shared the same shame filled look. Their argument had been resolved quickly through both of them sharing their sides and opinions while the other listened and by the end both understood the other feelings.

“Sorry,” Virgil grumbled sinking further into his hoodie.

“I must also apologise for my words,” Roman and extended a hand out towards Virgil. “Truce,”.

“Truce,” Virgil repeated taking his hand, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Yay, now I need to go and save Logan from D…” Patton paused he didn’t hear screaming and crying any more, which was unusual. If Dee was having one of his meltdowns it typically took up to half an hour to calm him down. What if something had happened?

“Logan!” Patton called out as he hurried downstairs, followed by Roman and Virgil but his worries were dispelled instantly as he heard Logan’s soft voice reading to Declan as he sat nicely in his lap, babbling along to Logan’s words.

Patton’s heart swelled with pride as he, Roman and Virgil moved silently to sit and listen to Logan’s telling of A Study in Scarlet, the very book he had explained to Patton the day they met. Logan’s voice was low and calm a little shaky in some areas from lack of use but it worked in settling Dee from his outburst in a matter of minutes. He was incredible, quiet and conscientious, so mature for his age though Patton knew that was the result of years of abuse and it would take time for Logan to fully open up to him but he was determined and willing. After all Logan was a member of his famILY now.              

Once Declan began to drift in and out consciousness in Logan’s lap he stopped, closed his book and then only noticed Patton, Roman and Virgil’s presence, intently listening to him as he read aloud. It felt natural as reading and immersing himself into a new world through the words written on a page was a way in which often calmed himself after his own moments of infrequent upset, to begin reading to the wailing child and it worked, he quieten almost immediately and at one point attempted to read along though most came out as indecipherable nonsense. He felt his face heat up at the attention he was receiving and unconsciously curled in on himself in the hope they would move their focus elsewhere.

“I think it is someone’s bedtime,” Patton said taking the limp toddler from Logan’s lap. “Say goodnight, DeeDee,”.

“Night-night, Lo-Lo,” Declan mumbled waving his gloved hand in Logan’s direction.

“Goodnight,” Logan said unsure of what else to say. Once Declan had been put to sleep, Roman and Virgil departed shortly after, retiring to their own bedrooms, leaving only himself and Patton left in the swiftly darkening living room, illuminated by lamp light.

“Thank you Logan, for helping with Dee,” Patton said with a warm smile.

“It was a simple task, I have done nothing to deserve your thanks,” Logan admitted glancing down at the book in his lap, only realising now it was the very book he had been reading and explained to Patton the first time they met which felt so long ago now.

“No Logan, you did something for me, no matter how small a thing it may have been, you still did it though it made you uncomfortable. So, thank you,” Patton explained decreasing the proximity between them. “How are you feeling?”.

“I am a little…overwhelmed though I suppose it is to be expected going through such a significant change but…” Logan paused unsure of whether or not to continue but with a encouraging prompt from Pattopn he did. “You are not the first potential guardian to…show interest in me. It was at my previous orphanage, I had been there for a year at this point and a young couple began to visit me. They were both pleasant and kind-hearted people, they came to see me weekly and as the orphanage policy, organised a week long transitionary period where I would live with them in order to see if I was the correct fit for their household. It was my fault they changed, I became difficult, a burden on them, I was not the same child they had met at the orphanage and I was treated as such. When the week was finished and I returned to the orphanage they promised they would come back to see me the next week but I never saw them again, I do not blame them for their actions, they were deserved but that experience I believe has somewhat affected my own behaviour and I merely wish to apologise for it in advance,”.

Patton was silent and for a moment Logan believed he may be regretting his decision to adopt him and bring him into his family with his new insight into Logan’ past and behaviours and was planning to return him to the orphanage the following morning. Thankfully, he hadn’t yet unpacked his belongings in preparation for this moment. But instead of the anger he expected to follow at this admission, tears appeared in Patton’s eyes.

“Logan, kiddo, no,” Patton whimpered a sound which made Logan’s heart seize up. “You aren’t my possession or something to be returned at my choosing, you are my son and it my job as your dad to love and protect you no matter the circumstances or how difficult it may be. Those people…they should have done the same, attempted to understand your behaviour instead of punishing you for it. I promise you, I will love you and care for you like a dad is supposed to, that is my promise to you,”.

“Okay,” Logan whispered unsure of what else to say, there was a swirl of emotions within his head and chest, none of which he understood. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he scrubbed at them in the hope they would vanish but to no avail, one rolled down his cheek.

“Can I hug you kiddo?” Patton asked arms already outstretched when Logan nodded, needing the warmth and comfort of Patton’s arms as they enveloped him in a sense of security and he never wanted to leave them.

They sat curled up together, Logan burrowed within Patton’s arms until he felt himself growing weary, a yawn breaking from his lips as Patton suggested with a tired giggle he go to bed. Now in the bedroom. No, his bedroom. He undressed, replacing his day clothes with his pyjamas and prepared to go to sleep but the bear tucked beneath the covers caught his attention. Logan took it from it’s position against the pillows, tracing his fingertips across the soft grey fur. How strange that Patton’s same comforting nature was imbued into this lifeless toy. He had never owned a toy before, his biological parents thought them frivolous and a distraction from his studies and the Orphanage’s were to be shared amongst all of the children but he never saw the appeal of them until now. Logan hugged the simple bear tight against his chest, using it’s paw the wipe the wetness from his cheeks and he fell quickly to sleep, underneath his new sheets, in his new bed, in his new room, in his new home and new family.

Logan slept peacefully for the first night in years.

Notes: Noah is a new and completely unintentional OC which I have fallen in love with, so if anyone would like some headcanons for him please let me know.

Also, the Hart house is somewhat modeled after my own house.

And lastly, I am in need of information of how American middle schools work as I am from Scotland and I have no idea. Thanks.

Tag list: @poems-art-darkness-n-more @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @alex-cain @tacochippy @mason-does-a-thing @darkrainbow333 @amber1594 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @callboxkat @anxiousangel121 @comicsimpson @harrypotternerdprincess @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8 @coloursintheblur @read-write-inspire-repeat @clinicalawesomeness @deceit-sanders-deserved-better @scared-ghosthunter

If you would like to be added to the tag list, have a question about the series and it’s characters or you simply want to say hi, please do not hesitate to send me an ask or a message.

[digitalhovel]

A review of “Juno Steel,” a hilarious and emotionally-driven queer space opera

           I recently began work as a DoorDash driver, and you know what that means: living in fear because you have to constantly expose yourself to shitheads who aren’t wearing masks? Yes. And also, lots of time in the car with nothing to do but listen to stuff. Which means I decided to go back and binge the first two seasons of one of my favorite podcasts, The Penumbra Podcast’s “Juno Steel” series. “Juno Steel” is an enjoyable, enthralling story about home, mental illness, and what it means to be good.

           The Penumbra Podcast, created by Sophie Takagi Kaner and Kevin Vibert, is an anthology series that focuses on telling interesting stories while representing marginalized sexual, romantic, and gender identities. It began with a Twilight Zone-esque series of narratives, each with a different setting and characters, but they now run two main storylines: “The Second Citadel” (a fantasy setting examining prejudice and relationships) and “Juno Steel” (a dystopian space noir set in Hyperion City, Mars). The Penumbra Podcast is one of the first podcasts I ever listened to, and it’s still going strong.

           The following contains spoilers for “Juno Steel” season one. If you want to give them a listen, try the remake of “Juno Steel and the Murderous Mask.” Episodes are 30-60 minutes, but the commitment is well worth it in the end.

The characterization in “Juno Steel” is one of the series’ strongest points. Juno Steel is a classic noir detective: determined, depressed, and damn stubborn. The first season of Juno Steel follows him as he uncovers a plot to harvest ancient Martian tech in order to kill the citizens of Hyperion City. Along the way, he develops a complicated relationship with a thief, Peter Nureyev, and their lives become inextricably linked. Juno is an ex-cop and struggles with several issues: trusting someone whose expertise is being untrustworthy, and also trusting literally anyone else. (Note: there is a brief, problematic moment between Juno Steel and a woman PI named Alessandra. I’ll explain at the bottom if you want a warning before listening.)

          Juno Steel is blunt and focused on good, on solving the problem, on doing his best even if it kills him. He struggles to take into consideration the wants and cares of others, and he often jeopardizes his relationships by jumping to conclusions and acting before thinking. Peter Nureyev is suave, collected, and always has a plan. Their dynamic is incredibly fun to listen to because

1.      The acting by Joshua Ilon (Juno) and Noah Simes (Nureyev), is incredible (as is the work of everyone in the cast), and the writing carries their chemistry incredibly well

2.      They are forced into situations where each must give up their expertise and authority to help the other

This challenges their pre-conceived notions of the world, and it gives their characters places to develop and grow throughout the season. It also provides rife opportunities for comedy. Juno is sardonic and blunt, and Nureyev is witty and concise. Every character has a distinct voice, a distinct sense of excitement, and a distinct humor that makes each episode worth listening to as the creators tackle various tropes in the genre and spin an exciting mystery. While Juno often has a low speaking tempo, his secretary Rita gives monologues in seconds. These small moments of contrast build a broad and unique cast that make every interaction dramatic, and often hilarious. These character beats continue to influence the characters in season two, as Juno has to begin grappling with his own senses of responsibility, his past, and his guilt as he continues trying to do good in the world.

          This idea of ‘good’ pervades the message of both seasons of Juno Steel. The Juno of season one is obsessed with self-sacrifice and self-destruction. The creators have never been shy about Juno having mental illness, namely, depression. In his case, he lashes out at people who disagree with him and can’t see consequences of actions that aren’t his. Somehow, it’s always his fault. But the rest of the characters disagree with that philosophy. The Penumbra Pod presents a great deal of viewpoints on coping with feelings of grief, responsibility and guilt, from self-destruction to bottling it up and moving on to just trying to live every day to forget about the one before. No one is right, but the diversity of opinions provokes genuine thought in the listener. The show deals with heavy themes but the characters are grounded and deal with their grief, guilt, and fear in realistic and dynamic ways, letting the audience learn alongside Juno as his perspective slowly opens up.

          The following contain serious spoilers for “Juno Steel,” season two.

          It’s a testament to the writing that Juno learns from these lessons. In season two, he’s less self-destructive, but still driven to making the world a better place, fueled by his guilt and his past. Season two of Juno Steel features and more nuanced villain, Ramses O’Flaherty (heavily influenced by Walt Disney). Ramses wants to create a good world, plain and simple. The issue is, he thinks his version of good is universal, and he has the power and resources to try to enforce it with impunity. It’s a tense narrative that forces Juno to examine his own motivations for doing his job and perspectives regarding the place he calls home. He struggles between idealism and defeatism, even deciding whether violence is needed or useful in his line of work. But again, the core message of the series is simple: we can never make those changes alone. Only by working willingly with others and listening to them can Juno begin to decide what he considers to be good. While the political situation of “Juno Steel” season two doesn’t mimic our own (I wish our public leaders had only good intentions [they don’t]), it is an inspirational story about the value of trying to grow as a person and begin accepting help from others and trusting them when it’s needed. Because goodness is based in how we affect the world and the people around us. These days, found family can be more real than blood relations, and solidarity is the greatest path towards building a better world.

          In short, The Penumbra Podcast is great. They’re telling interesting, unique, entertaining, queer, gender-diverse stories through personal and diverse lenses, and they’re doing a great job of it. “Juno Steel” has been influential in my life, both as validation for my emotional and psychological experiences, and my changing perspective as I try to learn about myself and do better all the time. Because Juno isn’t perfect. He makes mistakes; we all do. But we get to watch him learn, and in the process, maybe learn something about ourselves.

          If you do listen to them and enjoy it, here’s a link to their website, where they host episodes (you can also find them on most podcast-listening mediums), and their Patreon.

*The creators of The Penumbra Podcast have addressed this, but in “Juno Steel and the Prince of Mars, part 1,” Juno non-consensually kisses Alessandra Strong. The writers have said they wish they hadn’t done it or could redo it because it’s a problematic noir trope, and they wrote it in to confirm that Juno is canonically bisexual. The incident does not come up again, and in future discussions, Juno and Alessandra have a relatively healthy working relationship. Some other concerns have been raised with their presentation of other relations on TPP, and the creators have acknowledged that they are also growing and trying to do the best to present their stories in a positive way, but they also can’t be made into pillars of the queer community. They have individual perspectives and are trying to reflect that. I, for one, believe them, and I hope you’ll still give their podcast a try.

[ms31x129]

Chimera by monikafilefan and  cultureisdarkbeer

Summary: 

Who is Jackson Van de Kamp?

A simple letter containing words powerful enough to transform and free him from pain and uncertainty of his past is found. Events from Jackson’s childhood and present day life play out post series as a catalyst sparked by his birth mother fuels a new purpose for his future.

Let’s revisit! Woohoo! Click on the Chapter Title to read at AO3! @monikafilefan @cultureisdarkbeer

Courage to Jump - Chapter 1 or read below if you prefer! :)

“Memories are contrary things; if you quit chasing them and turn your back, they often return on their own. -Stephen King

April 19, 2019

The wood creaked under Jackson’s boots as he made his way through the old, dust laden attic. He peeked out the dirty window and watched the for sale sign sway in the breeze. It instantly struck a nerve that stirred his rising ardor. The last time he could recall stepping foot up here was with his dad as they stored the freshly emptied moving boxes and old family memories along the wall nearly six years ago.

The dim, musty smelling room was a drastic contrast to the rest of the house where he had lived out his remaining adolescence. Being forced to move across the country for “the very best doctors” wasn’t the fondest of memories. He was drawn back here, seeking out tangible pieces of his past and yearning to hold them within grasp instead of envisioning them like everything else in his life. With his parents gone and buried, once the shadows had vacated, he needed to search his home for a remembrance of happier times.

He had faked his own death out on that pier so many months ago as a sacrifice to save the man he inexplicably trusted. Anger, frustration, and depression over his actions and parents’ death had left him with little choice but to change into Fox Mulder and take a bullet in the brain from the bastard that had ruined him in more ways than one. He wanted to protect the ones he had left who loved him, even though he failed to do so with those who raised him.

As he hid in darkness, witnessing his birth mother and possible birth father panicking on the pier, hearing and feeling her intense emotions thrumming through his body as he recovered on the side of the river, was like a slap in the face. He was angry at the unfairness of it all. His creation, his childhood, his messed up abilities, his life, his future… was all fucked up. In that moment he realized whatever was left of the old Jackson had died as a new him broke free from the cold abyss. What emerged was a stranger immersed within himself. A stranger with a new feeling welling within his chest, one he felt churning deep inside the fierce woman with tears in her eyes, embracing Mulder across the water: a feeling of hope.

Hope was what brought him back. And hope was what he could still feel tickling along the surface of his mind, calling out to him with that soft familiar voice.

Refocusing on his task, he sifted through the cobweb covered boxes, and discovered an old, mildewed grey and blue diaper bag buried deep in the bottom of one that was marked simply as “W.” Knowing what he does now about his past and his birth mother who named him, he realized that the box must’ve pertained to him—William.

Stale baby clothes covered in animals from Noah’s Ark and, ironically, a onesie with a spaceship on the front were folded with his mom’s usual precision, resting on top of the bag. The stiff “bag” now cracking with age laid ominously across his lap as he thought hard about actually looking inside.

For years, Jackson had been searching for the truth about who and what he really was; feeling like an outcast, a freak of nature that had been poked and prodded more times by the age of fifteen than most people get in a lifetime. Yet now, a missing piece of his puzzle sat right in front of him, no doubt riddled with secrets of his past life that no amount of computer hacking could show him, and he was nervous as hell. His hands shook just thinking about it.

He could turn into a snarling monster at will and explode the heads of his enemies, yet he struggled with unzipping a diaper bag. He scoffed and then heard his dad’s encouraging words replay in his mind.

“Dad, I’m scared; I can’t do it, don’t make me do it,” Jackson begged, squeezing his dad’s hand as he stared wide-eyed into the deep end of the swimming pool.

“Hey, it’s okay buddy. I won’t make you jump in.” He patted his floaty wrapped tightly around his arm. “But sometimes, Jackson, there are no words to help one’s courage. Sometimes you just have to jump.”

At that, Jackson gripped the zipper and swiftly pulled it open. Rolled up inside was a cream, soft, worn-in baby blanket that he instantly rubbed between his fingers. As he pulled it out to see what else was inside, a puff of air wafted a familiar smell directly up his nose.

And it was then that it happened: His brain shifted into overdrive. Synapses firing at a rapid rate, burning through the memory center of his mind. This stung differently than his visions of the possible future. This was real.

January 9, 2002

His eyes were closed, heavy. A gentle hand patted his back and his head lolled along a small shoulder as they rocked back and forth. The softness of a blanket was tucked under his little body and a soothing voice that he’s heard so many times in his mind before began singing him to sleep.

“William was a bullfrog, he was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine. Joy to the world… all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me…” She kissed the crown of his head and whispered along his hair, “Sweet dreams, baby boy. Daddy sends his love.”

With a frantic shake of his head, Jackson blinked and found himself staring at that same blanket he felt tickle along his skin as a baby. Jesus, he thought. This was actually his and that… that was his mother .

He ran a hand through his thick hair and then searched through the rest of the things that were sent with him. A silicon pacifier, yellowed with age; a teething ring; a bib that said, “Tough Like Mom;” a small stuffed fox with big, bright green eyes; and an envelope tucked tightly into a pocket with the name William scrawled across it.

“Oh shit,” he gasped, his gut churning. Jackson knew exactly what this was. And if it turned out to be anything like what he heard cried out to him in the morgue, he didn’t know if he could handle reading it.

Minutes passed after he opened the envelope. He sat slumped on the hardwood floor, toying with an almost eighteen year old letter written from a mother for a son she thought she’d never see again. As his fingers danced over the words, the visions came—hard and fast of a trinity of love, the destiny and the truth of his essence and existence before powers intervened.