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#not proofread we die like Noah
deadlycupid · 2 years
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last line tag
I was tagged by @writerfae and @poetinprose thank you!!
yeah you already know this is from my fanfic again 🫡
Later that day, when everything was said and done, Kevin sneaked into Aaron’s dorm.
Wordlessly, he sat besides Aaron, who stared out of the window into the distance. Matt must have let Kevin in when he went out to his evening classes. The idiot could never read the room. Or maybe he thought Kevin and Aaron had agreed to meet up, had thought their bickering was nothing more than that.
And perhaps Matt was right. Aaron didn’t even feel the spark that had ignited the flame.
Andrew and Neil must have left the dorm and Nicky was up to who knows what, so it was natural that Kevin gravitate towards him now.
Aaron sighed and reached for the remote control. The TV flared up and Aaron searched for the documentary they had started.
Neither of them could be alone, Aaron knew that. They weren’t meant to be alone. Every cell, every micro being inside of them screamed for company, for comfort, for togetherness.
Aaron wouldn’t deny Kevin this need.
And he was to tired to take it away from himself, too.
After all, he was done fighting.
I tag @bluehourskyeli and @sleepy-night-child (only if you want to)
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bluwavez · 2 months
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“Even death has a heart.” ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief.
IN WHICH ... Did Noah ever really get to be a boy? Or has he been deemed a man from the beginning?
FEATURING ... NOAH SON + SON JINHWA
WORD COUNT … 3K
NOTES AND WARNINGS ... Hospitals. Comas. Talks of death. Medical talk. Jinhwa. Abusive parents all around the board minus Naomi, love you legend. Noah is sixteen here. Crying. Grief. Barely proofread. rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡
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“He’s her next of kin.”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s listed as her emergency-”
“He is sixteen,” The doctor sharply whispers to the nurse. Noah can hear them despite them stepping outside the room, so he doesn’t. He bites the inside of his cheek, blinking at his mom as she lies still in her hospital bed. There’s a loud series of beeps from the machine beside her bed. Noah believes that’s the ventilator, and it only makes that noise when she breathes against it. Her eyes flutter sometimes, and her hands move, but she hasn’t spoken a word since yesterday morning. She’s so still.
Noah held tightly onto her hand, finally feeling her skin against his despite having been holding her hand for what had to be hours at this point. She’s cold. She’s really cold. He blinked, a tight feeling in his chest as he rose from the chair he drug over to sit next to her. He lifts her hand to his lips before placing it softly back on her stomach, only taking a few steps to be in the doorframe of her small room.
Rooms are so small in the ICU.
“She’s cold,” Noah’s deep voice announces to the whispering pair outside the room, making their whispers hush and heads turn towards him. “Can I get another blanket for her, please?” His dark eyes bounce between the woman in purple scrubs and the man in the white coat. He has greying hair and skin wrinkles when he forces a smile at Noah, nodding.
“Of course. She’ll get her one right away,” The man in the white coat says, nodding his head to the left, sending the nurse away. Noah watches her before stepping back into the room, the man trailing behind him. He told him his name but Noah can’t remember. He thinks it’s Dr.Han, but he could be Dr.Lee. He’s not too sure, and he can’t bring himself to care. All he can think of is his mother’s name. Naomi. Naomi Tsui. She’s 35 years old, and she likes to make things. She loves to cross stitch, crochet, and paint even though she doesn’t think she’s good at painting. She loves deer and the summertime. She loves Noah more than Noah thinks she should. It’s all Noah can think about now as he sits next to her bed again, knees cracking when he does.
He takes her hand into one of his while his other hand goes to his mouth, chewing on his bitten-down nailbeds. The doctor stands a few feet away from Noah, but Noah doesn’t look up at him. He can’t look away from his mother. His throat gets tighter the longer he looks at her.
“There’s no easy way to say this.” Noah thinks that’s an awful approach but he figures that’s the only way you can approach a situation like this. The doctor takes a deep breath. Noah clears his throat. The machine obnoxiously beeps again, causing Noah to shut his eyes. He hears the doctor shuffle over to mute it for a minute. It’s a process he’s seen various people in scrubs do over a million times now.
Noah opens his eyes when the room is quiet.
“But your mom is not breathing on her own.”
“The machine beeps when she breathes against it.” Noah looks up at the man, who nods sadly. “She has to breathe on her own.”
“Well, yes, but if we take her off the machine…She won’t breathe well enough on her own to fight off the infection. She’ll-”
“She’ll die. She’s already dying. I’m not blind.” Noah doesn’t mean to sound so disrespectful, but he’s not stupid. The doctor clears his throat, nodding and letting a tense silence fall over the room. Noah blinks at his mom, wishing she could tell him what to do right now. There’s a tightening in his throat that turns into heat behind his eyes, making him hold tighter onto her limp hand.
“Son…I wish I could give you good news, but her blood pressure is dropping. When her blood pressure drops, she’ll crash, and her organs will begin to fail. On her paperwork, she’s listed as an organ donor. I’m not saying we-”
“There’s no we,” Noah interrupts, pitifully this time, covering his eyes with the hand not holding his mother’s as his bottom lip quivers and tears begin to spill out. This has happened all day. On and off, he just starts crying because the reality hits him harder than he expects. He can only swallow down his circumstance before it all just comes up in soft sobs and hot tears. The doctor clears his throat.
“I’m sorry, son. I truly am.”
Noah sniffles loudly, uncovering his eyes to rest his elbows on his mother’s bed, holding her hand to his lips. He pitifully looks at her face, making another sob fall from his lips. She doesn’t look like herself. There’s a tube in her throat and in her nose, leaving her mouth slightly ajar. He hates seeing her like this, and he knows she would hate being seen like this. His mom hated leaving the house without some kind of makeup on. She likes to dress up, be pretty, be presentable, as she would say. She would hate this so much.
“What do you want?” Noah asks, not talking to the doctor, but he knows it looks like he is, and he lets him believe it.
“We need to know if you want to sign a DNR for her.” 
Noah’s dark brows knit at the words. Doctors have come in and out of here all day saying words he doesn't know, nor do they explain them to him, so he either nods or asks them to dumb it down for him.
“What’s a DNR?”
The doctor gives Noah a look of pity. Noah’s stomach drops. It can’t be good.
“It stands for “Do Not Resuscitate” which means if her heart were to stop beating-”
“She would die.”
“We would not attempt to resuscitate her.” The doctor finishes with a sad nod. Noah sniffles, looking out the glass window of his mom’s room as he squeezes her hand again. Silently, he pleads to whatever God may exist to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him what to do. He doesn’t even believe in God, but now he wishes he did. 
Footsteps fill the otherwise deathly quiet room. Noah sees a man in a suit rushing down the hall outside the window. Noah stands from his seat, gently placing his mother’s hand on her bed again, rushing past the doctor to the door.
“Dad!” Noah calls, voice shaking when he calls out to him. Jinhwa’s head lifts towards Noah’s direction, a wave of relief crashing over his face as he rushes towards his son, arms open.
“Hanbin,” Jinhwa sighs, taking Noah into his arms when he reaches the threshold of Naomi’s room. His hand rests on the back of Noah’s head, cradling him as he presses his face into his father’s shoulder, sobbing loudly into the fabric of Jinhwa’s fine-pressed suit. Jinhwa rests his cheek on his son’s head, his other head rubbing his back as he soothingly shushes him as if Noah were an infant. Noah holds onto his father’s torso tightly, whimpering and sobbing into his chest, releasing every pent-up cry he’s bit back throughout the entire day. Jinhwa rubs the back of his neck to calm him down, reminding Noah of when he was a child, and he would come in to put him to sleep.
“What happened? I thought she was doing better,” Jinhwa asks Noah quietly before his gaze settles on the doctor. “What’s happening? Why are you talking to my son about this? He’s sixteen, for Christ's sake.” Jinhwa pushes Noah back slightly to look at him, making Noah choke back his sobs and hold his tears back to look stronger when face to face with his father. Still, his jaw clenches, and his bottom lip wobbles. Jinhwa’s hand rests on Noah’s wet cheek, wiping away the remainder of his tears with his thumb. 
“What did they tell you? I told you to call me if they started using words you didn’t understand,” Jinhwa reminds Noah, his voice soft and consoling but tears still run down Noah’s cheeks as he balls his father’s shirt in his trembling hands.
“You didn’t pick up,” Noah whispers, his voice pitching slightly. He sees regret flash in his father’s eyes as he tilts his head slightly at his son. “They used words I didn’t understand all day. I-I didn’t want to bother you after the fourth time, and then you didn’t pick up, and I-”
Jinhwa shushes Noah again, pulling his head to his chest again, holding him like a child. Despite being only sixteen, Noah is massive. He’s already six feet two with wide shoulders. His mother says he got that from her father, but he’s never met him and probably never will. 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Binnie. I’m here now,” Jinhwa whispers, kissing the side of Noah’s head before pushing him back again to make eye contact, nodding when their eyes meet, his hand still on the back of Noah’s neck. Noah nods, a tight sob leaving his throat despite his fight to keep it bottled in. “And we’ll figure this out together, okay?”
Noah nods, sobbing again.
“Okay.”
Noah is alone with his mother again. His hand holding hers again. Now, she has a pink blanket draped over her unmoving body. The machines are beeping annoyingly again. The sun has gone down. His father is still talking with the doctor.
Noah doesn’t understand the legalities of the DNR. He doesn’t care to. All he’s grasping is that his father isn’t married to his mother and isn’t mentioned in her will, leaving Noah as her only kin. When asked about her parents, the doctors told them that they refused to speak to them, claiming they didn’t have a daughter named Naomi anymore. Noah heard whispers of her parents disowning her for his birth, but he didn’t know it was so deeply rooted they would refuse to acknowledge her dying. It leaves Noah with a rock in his stomach. His mother was nothing but kind. She was a good mom and took care of everyone. She was supposed to be a nurse before Noah was born. Noah bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at the aluminum tiles on the ground as the nurse in the purple scrubs came in to fix her breathing tube.
While looking at the ground, he sees a bag of yellow liquid attached to her bed with a tube going up and under her blankets. Noah blinks at the bag, unsure of what it is.
“What is that?” Noah asks the nurse calmly. The nurse looks behind her shoulder to where Noah is pointing.
“That’s her urinary catheter,” She answers, causing Noah’s brows to knit, blinking at the bag a few times before finally looking up at the nurse.
“So, that’s her piss?” The nurse blinked at him, unable to read how he felt as his face read of nothing, but his tone was hard. She nods.
“Basically. She can’t control her bladder right now, so the tube drains it into that bag.” It’s the most straightforward anyone has been with him all day. He nods, forcing a small and short smile before looking at his mother’s face again.
She would hate that. She would hate this. Having a bag of piss attached to her bed–God, just the thought of the face she would make has Noah sitting up straighter and biting the inside of his cheek. He looks outside the window, watching his father talk to the doctor with a look of agitation on his face. Noah blinks, looking back at his mom, nodding as he leans in closer to her face.
“Mama,” Noah whispers in English. She never spoke Korean to him. She didn’t think she was good at it. Her hand twitches, and he can feel his eyes get wet. “I love you. I-I really love you so much. I should’ve told you that more, but you’re my favorite person in the whole world. I love you so much. You…You’ve taken such good care of me-” Noah stops when his throat closes on him, making his eyes shut tightly and tears slip down onto his sheets. A droplet lands on the back of her hand, making Noah bring her knuckles to his lips again. He kisses her cold skin once more.
“I’m going to take care of you now, okay? I’m gonna–I’m gonna take care of this, okay? You don’t have to fight anymore unless you want to,” Noah tells her with a deep breath, reaching up to brush her long black hair behind her ear. “You can rest now. It’s okay.”
Noah leans forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. She’s cold even with the blankets.
Noah sniffles, looking at the nurse who stands by the ventilator with a sorrowful look in her eyes. Noah clears his throat, motioning towards his mom when he stands from his chair.
“Can you stay in here with her? Please?” For a moment,, it looked like she might refuse, but when she saw Noah still holding her hand like a lost child, she nodded and offered Noah a superficial smile.
Noah gently lays his mother’s hand down on the bed to leave the room, walking over to where his father and the doctor were. He can hear them talking about options and procedures that could be done to give his mother more time but they fall silent when Noah approaches. Jinhwa puts his hand on Noah’s shoulder but Noah doesn’t look at him.
“I want to sign the DNR.”
“Hanbin,” Jinhwa says sharply. Noah’s eyes divert to the floor at the sound of his father’s voice. “This isn’t your choice. You’re far too young, and there are options–”
“Are there actually options, Dad? Or is this prolonging the inevitable?” Noah asks, looking up at him to be met with a cold gaze. Jinhwa’s hand tightens on Noah’s shoulder, making Noah grit his teeth slightly at the dull pain that shoots through his body. Noah’s gaze turns towards the doctor with a raise of his brows.
“Give me the DNR.”
“Noah.” Jinhwa’s voice echoes through the halls, causing nurses to look up from their paperwork. Noah turns his attention to his dad, pointing towards his mother’s room.
“She has a bag of piss hanging off her bed. You know her, Dad. She would hate this. This would be humiliating for her,” Noah explains to him, but Jinhwa looks unwavering, causing Noah to shake his head. “This isn’t what she wants, and you know it.”
Jinhwa exhales a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding, clearing his throat as he rubs the lower half of his face. He shakes his head, letting go of Noah’s shoulder.
“You’re letting her die.”
“That’s not fair, Dad.”
“You’re just giving up on her,” Jinhwa persists, motioning towards Naomi’s room. “He’s giving us options–”
“The options are shit, Dad! We either keep letting them pump her full of drugs, ruin her organs, and then she dies anyway! We get what? Two? Three more days of her unconscious in a bed? You know she would hate that! She would hate this!” Jinhwa gives Noah a warning look when he raises his voice at him, letting go of his shoulder to turn away from him with a loud sigh. Noah knows he’s calming himself down. He’s heard that sigh plenty of times throughout his life. 
The doctor looks between the two of them.
“Ultimately, it’s up to Noah–”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jinhwa groans when the doctor starts to speak again, turning away from home with a frustrated groan. The man nods with curled lips. Noah stares at his father, who avoids his gaze. 
“I’m doing what she wants. Do you think she wants to be a vegetable? You know her,” Noah says. He doesn’t know why he’s trying to reason with his father about this. When his dad is pissed, all he cares about is being right or getting his way. Reason and logic don’t matter whenever he’s angry. Still, Jinhwa meets Noah’s gaze, jaw tight and eyes dark.
“You’re being selfish.” Noah feels the sting of his words in his chest, but he tightens his posture and grits his teeth to prevent his bottom lip from wobbling.
“I’m doing what she wants. I’m sorry you don’t like it,” Noah says with the strongest voice he can muster. He looks back at the doctor, who stands with his hands locked in front of him, only looking up over his thin-rimmed glasses when Noah looks at him. Noah nods, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“What’s next?”
Noah soon learns that there’s a lot of paperwork revolving around dying. He’s scribbled his signature what feels like two thousand times before it’s finally done, and he’s back in his mother’s room. He’s sitting on her left side, and his father is sitting on her right. They both hold one of her hands. Jinhwa hasn’t stopped looking at her face since he got in here. Noah just stares at her hand. She stopped twitching hours ago. Any sign of life seems to be made by the machines she’s attached to.
The room has been silent for a solid hour. Noah wishes his dad would say something to break the silence but he doesn’t. He holds onto it to punish his son like he always did. Noah looks up at his mom’s face, sighing softly.
“She wouldn’t want you to see her like this,” Noah whispers. Jinhwa doesn’t say anything. “She told me she didn’t even let you in the delivery room because she didn’t want you to see her sweaty and crying.”
Jinhwa shuts his eyes, chuckling softly. He nods.
“I tried to go in, and she told me to get the fuck out,” He reminisces quietly. Noah laughs through his nose, smiling genuinely for the first time in what feels like years. Jinhwa looks up at Naomi’s face, stroking her cheek silently with the back of his hand. “She never knew how beautiful she was…I never understood it.”
Then, there was silence again. Noah rubs his lips together, biting the inside of his cheeks when he looks at his mother’s face, realizing he’ll never see her eyes fully open again. His lips curl in as hot tears flash in his eyes, making him hold tighter onto her hand.
“I don’t understand why this happened to her,” Noah admits softly, not expecting a response from his father. He doesn’t get one. Jinhwa doesn’t even look at him. “None of this makes sense. I don’t know why her. She’s such a good person. This shouldn’t have–”
“Hanbin,” Jinhwa interrupts sharply, causing Noah’s teary eyes to look up at his father. Jinhwa’s gaze is filled with disappointment and contempt, making Noah feel like he’s two feet tall. “Stop crying. You made this choice. Deal with it like a man, and stop fucking crying.”
Noah’s watery eyes stare at Jinhwa for a sign of remorse or even some comfort, but he’s granted none. All he’s given is a coldness a judge would give a murderer. Noah feels sick, but he doesn’t move from his chair. He blinks at Jinhwa a few more times before turning his gaze back to his mother.
Noah doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night.
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iwriteloveletters · 5 months
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Imaginary (Eren x Reader Oneshot)
TW - MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, NOT PROOFREAD
WORDS - 694
You didn't know where you were, one second you were at war and now you're outside; in front of you was a little house on the countryside.
A little girl came outisde and said her father wanted to speak to you, her father? Who was she and who was her father?
The little girl had the brightest green eyes and long brown hair, she looked just like Eren if he had been a little girl. She must have been around ten years old.
"Who are you little one?" You asked.
Her head turned to the side, "Alana? Your daughter? Are you okay?"
You gasped, when did you have a child? This must have been a dream.
You then decided to follow her into the home that must be yours to find Eren holding a second child, this one was less than a year old. According to Alana this was a baby boy named Noah.
"Eren?"
"Hey, come upstairs with me. I want to talk to you. Alana will be alright."
You nodded and he got up and began to make his way upstairs with Noah in hand.
As you walked to the stairs there were pictures on the walls of your little family, Alana as a baby where Eren holds her proudly. His first and only girl, and then another set of photos of you three adoring Noah.
This is exactly the life you want, a boy and a girl with Eren.
You find yourselves in your shared bedroom, there you see your wedding photos showcased, these photos were in beautiful white and gold frames. You fell in love in such a special way.
"I wanted to do this for you." He broke the silence which brought you back to reality. You remembered this wasn't real. Eren did this.
"Thanks..." You held back your tears, this would be your last moments with Eren and you won't even remember them.
"I would've loved having our own Alana and Noah." He chuckled.
You nodded, you wanted to beg him to stay but you know that wasn't possible.
"C'mon, answer me. Don't be so cold."
You didn't know what to say or what to do. You wanted to hug him, kiss him goodbye, or even ask him to somehow keep you here forever. You wanted him to stay with you forever.
The false reality he made for you can become real, if you two simply stayed there.
"No, we can't stay my love. This was just for a little bit, everything is temporary." It felt like he read your mind, but he simply loved you and your mind so much that he knew the way you thought.
You balled your hands into fists, you wanted to yell about how this wasn't fair and how this wasn't fair at all for anyone.
You burst into tears, you can't hate him. You saw him grow into such a selfless and dumb man, you can't ever bring yourself to hate him.
"I love you, I've loved you so much for so long."
"I know, I gave you our dream. One of many."
You didn't want to let go, not yet. Eren had all this power, all you wanted was more time. You needed more time.
He put Noah down in his crib and walked over and held you one last time, before he disappeared this was the exact way he held you. He caressed the back of your head with one hand and used his free arm to wrap his hands tighter around your waist.
It feels the exact same way because this is how he held you before he left, now he's leaving for good.
"Please, Eren." You begged one last time.
"No, (Y/N)." He said.
You could feel your shared dream coming to end now, his grip getting lighter and the sounds of Alana giggling downstairs and Noah cooing fading out. This was it, this is the closest you'll get to having a family with him.
"Do you think we'll see each other again?"
"Maybe..."
This answer was good enough for you, you finally let yourself let go of him once and for all. But if it was up to you, you'd die in his arms with him. You'd let him sacrifice you for humanity had he asked.
"Goodbye, Eren. I'll miss you."
You were back where you once were, and from a distance there was Mikasa holding his head sobbing.
There will be no seeing each other again.
Authors note - Hi guys!! This is a super short oneshot so I hope you enjoy, I'll try to put out some headcanons later today or on tuesday! In other news, I'll be putting longer fics and oneshots on my AO3 account. The user is livelaughjaeger ! So far I have Rosemary (One shot) and my new series Without You, I have two chapters out right now! If you check it out I hope you enjoy!! - Cherub
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aurorafables · 5 months
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From the Grey, Chapter 1.
Let's get is started. :) I'm very excited, and I hope you will like it bc I loved to write it.
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo
Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts
Tags: M/M, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic
Word Count: 4.2k
Cross-posted: AO3
Author's note: This was originally written in Hungarian, and I'm still looking for a proofreader, so please forgive me the mistakes, strange expressions. Hope it's still enjoyable. Let me know, what do you think. :) Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts :)
Summary: In Noah's life, his best friend was the light, the way out of the abuse he suffered at home. After a childhood full of trauma, in which he was stripped of his wings so many times, he moves in with Nick, whose goal is to let him fly. The band, Bad Omens, led by Noah, begins to soar, which brings at least as many problems as joy. As teenagers grow into men, Noah and Nick drift closer and closer to each other, and the boundaries of friendship and love completely merge.
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Chapter 1.
It would be difficult to say exactly when it started. It was as if the dynamic between the two of us had completely changed without being noticed. I could compare it to when I'm doing a tattoo and I want to create a nice color gradient to make the design look as realistic as possible. The point is that you can't tell where one color ends and the other color begins. Even between us, the transition from wanting to hug him in a friendly way to kissing him passionately was imperceptible.
Maybe I woke up like that one day, but it's also possible that the desire had been brewing in me for weeks, months, years, I just blocked it deep down. And what if I felt that little spark the first time we met, but I was still almost a child and couldn't identify it? I have to start this story somewhere. And like most fairy tales, it didn't start well. The mood of the whole band was cast by melancholy over the loss of a friend. But like all dead artists, Keaton remained immortal. His voice will live forever on the records, despite the fact that he was not with us anymore. The music of Too Close To Touch mingled with the cohesive low murmur of the crowd outside in the club's concert hall, where Keaton's vocals echoed painfully through the walls. "Death is not a game with the ones I hold close She was mine, mine, you can't deny Three years is too quick to die"* All his anger, all his pain were in the song he wrote about his little sister, who died lying on a hospital bed. In the text, he blamed God for choosing little Eiley over him. The poor boy had no idea at the time that they were both chosen… Personally, I would have liked to break something if I remembered that he was gone now, and I could only reassure myself that maybe they were already up there together. If it even exists up there. Because what if up there is actually only two meters underground?
The song didn't come at the best moment, because we had to go on stage right after, and I might be able to hide my mood in front of the audience… I glanced at Noah and my heart sank when I saw him banging his head against the wall, clutching the microphone in his hand, next to the stage, which we will soon have to walk up to. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, which I completely forgot to do in parallel. I was so worried about him. I knew he'd hate himself for that if his voice cracked while singing the opening lines of The Death Of Peace Of Mind. His maximalism was what he could torture himself with the most. Also, he had to be up there alone at the beginning of the song, we didn't join until later. I walked to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder, but I still managed to scare him a little because he pulled away before he opened his eyes. When he saw me, he almost snuggled back into my hand. It reminded me of my very first cat, the little black ball of fur I found on the street when I was barely ten. I named him Dusk because of his color and when he came to us I did everything I could to fatten him up. We slept together in my bed at night, because his soft purr always lulled me to sleep quickly. It was amazing how much Dusk and Noah were alike. Even in the semi-darkness next to the stage, my best friend's dark brown eyes glistened with unshed tears, which he tried to quickly blink away. His shoulders slumped forward in the thin linen jacket, and I'd bet his fingers were white under the faux-leather glove he wore on his left hand, clutching the microphone like a lifeline. He and Keaton were very close. In the last two years, they spent a lot of time together, especially during and after the Covid epidemic, when it was possible to travel. Even when they were far away, they kept in touch on a daily basis. Keaton was good with all of us, but he had a stronger bond with Noah. He wanted to remember him by playing their songs during the break after our opening band, but Eiley's song has never come at such a bad time.
“We can extend the time for five more minutes,” I told him, and meanwhile I looked back at Jolly, who was still fiddling with his headphones with the help of a sound technician, and Folio was deep in his own thoughts drumming on the wall, sometimes doing shoulder circles as a warm-up. "Everything's fine," Noah replied in a weak voice, to which I nodded hesitantly, lowered my hand, and took a step back. "I'm worthless to the world You're innocent and pure God, why didn't you choose me over her?”* They signaled to Noah, who gave a thumbs up as if everything was fine. Nonsense. I knew nothing was okay. Keaton's voice faded outside and soon the intro to our song began. I looked down at my guitar and after stretching my fingers I strummed a few chords just to pass the time. When Noah walked out and the crowd cheered, he wasn't as lost as he had been two minutes ago. He immediately filled the stage and sang like a fucking siren without faltering. I shook my head, feeling a little angry at myself for constantly underestimating him. It was about time to get used to that Noah wasn't ruined by all the crap that happened around him. On the contrary, it only strengthened him even more.
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Two months later, I was sitting on the steps of the tour bus in Phoenix, beer in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other, when I heard Noah's footsteps behind me. After a concert he liked to clear his head, so I thought he was going for his usual walk and I thought that I could join. I stood up to let him go, and when he stepped next to me, I was hit by the smell of his perfume. He had just stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his pants, so I began to suspect that he had other plans for that evening. “Karin is in the city,” he said to me, but he didn't look at me, just watched the night lights. The blue neon lights of the bar glistened on the brunette's hair, and the tattoos running down his arms coiled around his skin like snakes. I thought I still had time. I thought I could figure something out before they met again in Salt Lake City. I blew out the last of the smoke, extinguished the butt, then slipped out of my denim jacket and held it out to him. “We will leave in the morning, be here by then.” Noah hesitantly took my jacket and looked at me. “That's it?” he asked in disbelief. I don't know what he expected. Maybe to remind him again that woman is crazy like hell? "I'm tired," I confessed to him. ”I can't save you from someone whose arms you keep running into. But I can do something to save you from catching a cold,” I gestured towards the jacket. He still didn't move, even though the situation was becoming more and more pressing for me, and the spring night wasn't nearly warm enough to keep me from getting goosebumps. I wrapped my arms around myself and hobbled in place. I kicked small stones with my boots on the asphalt of the parking lot and waited. I didn't care if I froze there, I wouldn't leave Noah alone as long as he needed me. The boys' laughter could be heard from inside the bus, a car honked on the street not far from us. I raised my head and immediately met a pair of dark eyes. Stared. I don't know how long or why. I swear he didn't even blink. Then he reached out and touched my arm under the sleeve of my shirt. “You are cold.” I blinked a few times, then started to move. I took the jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “But you don't have to be cold,” I answered him with an encouraging smile. “Everything will be okay. I will be okay,” he said quietly and gloomily. I don't know which of us he wanted to convince with this, but it didn't work. The smile immediately melted off my face. “Noah…” It's been a long time since my voice sounded so desperate when I said his name. I think all my fear must have been on my face because Noah took a step back and shook his head. I was ready to try again to get him to stay. We could have done so many things. From walking to sitting down to play video games with the boys. Or we could have gone to a nightclub to drink and to flirt with girls. Whatever, just don't let that cunt touch him again… He brushed his hair back and shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have to go, Nick. We will talk in the morning.” And that was it. There was nothing I could do to keep him there.
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I got home from the tattoo salon late that night and was so tired that all I could think about was my bed. But as soon as I stepped through the door, the strong smell of weed hit me. It went through the small apartment so intensely that I almost got sick of it. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I kicked off my shoes, dropped my bag on the floor, and headed for the bedroom with the goal of scolding Noah. The door was not locked on the little hole we called the bedroom, which was completely filled with my bed and the mattress that Noah had been sleeping on for months. When I entered, he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin, and he was holding a weed cigarette between his long, thin fingers. As if he had completely forgotten about it, the ash fell onto my blanket and I was amazed that it hadn't caught fire yet. Noah didn't even notice I got home because he was listening to music on his earphones, and I was sure he was just physically in the room by the way he looked. I leaned towards him, took the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it in the ashtray. With that, I finally drew attention to myself, because after he looked up at me tensely, with red eyes. The Asian features of his face came to life, which normally I would have stared in fascination, but this was not a normal case. I forgot I wanted to yell at him for wasting the weed and almost setting our apartment on fire. Because by then we both owned that little flat. In the corner, next to my guitar, there was also his. Noah's things appeared in the bathroom, his shampoo, his toothbrush, he got half of my wardrobe and sometimes half of my bed… His clothes were just as messily scattered as mine, and he already had his favorite mug, from which he preferred to sip his coffee in the morning. I wanted to think that his eyes were red from smoking weed, but when he spoke, I had no doubt that he must have been crying for hours.
"I thought you'd come home earlier today," he said in a nasal tone after stopping the music and taking out his earphones. In the meantime, I opened the window without holding him responsible for why he did not do so. “I thought so too,” I answered him, then I fell down on the bed next to him. ”Another guest came at seven, and thought I would do miracles in two hours with an old, messed-up tattoo.” Noah nodded, then slowly stretched out his infinite legs. He was only sixteen then, but already a little taller than me. We sat speechless for a while and looked at each other. I was even more overcome by fatigue, and for a moment my eyes were probably closed too long while blinking, because I was jolted when Noah moved next to me. He took a deep breath, then let it out shakily. Our tattooed arms touched and I could feel the tremors running through his bones as he reached for his phone. Oh my god, he was so skinny. If I touched his arms, I was afraid I would crush him as if his limbs were made of thin glass fibers. “I got a message,” he whispered into the dimness, then put the phone on my thigh. I picked it up with a scared heart and started reading. I had a guess of what it might be, and honestly… I just didn't understand why it didn't come sooner. At first, Noah's mother tried to lure her son back to her side with sweet, but poisoned words, which in the end turned into mere threats. Every fucking word she wrote made me feel nauseous. “After half a year, she remembered that she had an underage son. Maybe she expects some kind of reward for it?” I asked, but mostly I meant it as a poetic question.
Noah tensed up next to me and started breathing faster. “I… I can't go back there. If… if you say I have to go back to her, I… rather… I…” "Hey Noah, I would never say that," I turned to him and tried to speak in the most soothing voice possible. But I was too late… By that time, tears were already falling, and he was clutching the crumpled bottom of his two-size-larger shirt. I was totally in shock because I had never seen anything like this before. What kind of friend is who doesn't recognize that the problem is so big? Noah was an old soul with a lot of shit and loss behind him, who blended in perfectly with the adults, so I tended to forget that he was still just a kid. But now there was a child next to me who was terrified. Whom fear brought out the worst. "I shouldn't be here," he said between sobs, to which I shook my head so fast that my hair hit my cheek. I knelt on the bed, turned to face him and tried to remove his fingers from his clothes. I just wanted to hold his hand… I just wanted him to know I was with him. “Noah…No! Don't tell me this!” I protested loudly, but he didn't listen to me. It's like he didn't even hear what I said. Instead, he drove himself deeper and deeper into madness. “I should have died a long time ago…years ago.” If he had only stabbed a dagger into my stomach with his words, this was the moment he twisted it. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. Noah snapped his head back hard and his skull hit the wall loudly. After that, I couldn't focus on my own panic anymore, without thinking I put my hand on his head to protect him from himself. I didn't care that I might not be able to tattoo. My fingers ached as they met the hard wall, but I didn't really notice the pain. All I cared about was Noah and how I could keep him safe. I've been trying to figure out how to fix this. His cries and animalistic whining still ring in my ears, mixed with the sound of my heart's frantic beating. I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him close as he just cried and cried, his tears completely soaking my shirt. He was hugging my thighs as I knelt next to him, finally not wanting to hurt himself anymore.
That night, I only left his side when I brought him water from the kitchen. Then we both got into bed and Noah turned to face me, but half of his red face from crying was hidden in the pillow and the other half was covered by his hair. I quickly got rid of my tight jeans, threw them on the side of the bed and took his phone in my hand. He was watching what I was doing, but he didn't speak. First, without any guilt, I deleted his mother's message, then opened his music. It didn't surprise me that he was listening to Castle Of Glass by Linkin Park when I got home. I flipped through the playlist and started our favorite song As Cities Burn after giving him one of the earbuds. "Won't you come down, heaven. Won't you come down? Won't you cut through the clouds? Won't you come down?”** At the first chorus, he already closed his eyes, and only then did I allow myself to relax a little. I carefully reached towards him, smoothed the strands falling from his face behind his ears, and then I closed my eyes too. I begged myself to fall into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, when we woke up, Noah helped me untangle the earbuds’ cord from my hair. We parted laughing, shoving a piece of toast into our mouths. He went to a band rehearsal, and I went to a place that has become my second home, the tattoo salon. My fingers got away with it quite well, with a small bruise on one of the joints, which only started to hurt a little towards the end of the day. We didn't discuss anything else about that night. Maybe I regret it since then, but what can I say? I was just a scared kid too, too stupid to help his friend more. Noah's mother died less than two months later. I didn't feel for a minute that she was a loss to the world.
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He has become a grown man since and he doesn't need me to protect him from the world. I watched motionless as he walked down the street to get into a taxi. His tall, thin figure disappeared around the corner and I could finally get my legs moving. I got on the bus, grabbed a new bottle of beer from the fridge and joined the others. Folio showed Matt some funny videos and Jolly typed a message on his phone. I sat next to him on the couch and started reading the news. "He won't be able to do this for long," said Jolly next to me in a strong Swedish accent. When it was late and he was tired, he didn't pay so much attention to speaking English with perfect pronunciation. But there's nothing wrong with that, we've been working together for so long, and we've been friends for so long that we understand each other with half a word. “What do you mean?” I turned to him. I slipped out of my boots, slid off the couch, and put my feet up on the small table. I rested my head on the backrest and wiped the steam from the side of the glass with my thumb. “For Noah's secret night meetings. Matt had told him before when saw that he wanted to go out on the town all by himself.” “It doesn't happen that often. And it's not a secret where he's going, he told me he was meeting Karin,” I took him to my defense immediately. “Anyway, why can't he go? The fans had left for an hour, no one was out there. And it's not that he hit the town on foot. He called a taxi.” “That girl is strange,” Jolly grimaced. You do not say.. “When she came to our place, Noah wasn't quite himself.” Recently, I felt guilty for not trying to stop him more firmly, but I reminded myself: Noah pointed out rather angrily during an argument about this that I can't protect him from everything. "If a little fuck puts him in a better mood, we're all fine with that," Folio interjected when Matt left us alone. Maybe I gave him a nasty look from behind my beer bottle, because he held his hands up defensively. I took another sip, then realized I didn't even want the beer. I put the bottle on the table, brushed my teeth in our small bathroom, and went to sleep. At least I wanted to sleep, but I must have been tossing and turning for another hour.
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It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when something started to tingle my nose. I brushed it off at first, but then Noah's soft chuckle crept into my consciousness. I groaned then pulled the pillow over my head planning to go back to sleep. I kicked the blanket off because I was hot, and it turned out, it was a big mistake. Ice cold fingers touched my side, the muscles in my stomach jumped and I let out a muffled moan. “Fuck me!” I grumbled hoarsely as I caught Noah's hand, who was just putting the other one in front of my mouth. "Shh, the others are still sleeping," he whispered excitedly with sparkling eyes. “I want to sleep too,” I answered after pulling his hand away from my mouth. “Come on, Nick. I'm hungry. I want breakfast.” “Why can’t you eat?” “Missing your company.” I sighed. “Go to the kitchen. Give me five minutes and I'll be there.” "If I leave you here, you'll go back to sleep," he said accusingly, as if he had every right not to let me go back to sleep. “And I would go a little further for breakfast than the bus kitchen. But I promise, it's worth it. You will love the place.” Another sigh, but I sat up with half-closed eyes, then pulled on a pair of pants and a thick hoodie. My jacket was still on him and he didn't seem like he wanted to give it back.
After five minutes, Noah got off the bus energetically, and I, wrapped in my hoodie, got off the bus grumpily. It was just dawn, around half past six. Noah finally slowed his steps and stopped in front of me, facing me. My hair would have been a complete disaster, not to mention the pillow creases on my face, or my eyes, which I could barely keep open. "You're sweet when you are sleepy," he said finally. He looked at me with a smile, then pulled the hood over my head and did the same with his own. ”I don't want to be recognized.” “Come on! Who would be awake this early?” I asked sarcastically, yawning into my palm. We walked down the street and luckily he was right, we really didn't have to walk far before we got to the breakfast place. Too tired to read the sign, I just entered the small but friendly coffee shop and sighed as I was greeted by a pleasant warmth inside. I said hello to the gray lady behind the counter. When I saw the first cat, licking its paws on a chair, I turned to Noah questioningly, who just shrugged. "I thought you missed your little monsters," he said. A big smile spread across my face. A cat café. I was already less sleepy when I crouched next to the kitten and let him sniff my hand. Then I noticed even more hairballs and I didn't even know which one to go to. Meanwhile, Noah ordered us coffee and breakfast at the counter. I heard the old lady laughingly answer him when asked why they were open so early: “If the kittens wake up, why can't I open the cafe?”
I smiled as I scratched the head of a calico sitting next to the wall, and we blinked at each other for a long time. After ordering, Noah came over and sat next to me. "The chick likes you," he remarked when the kitten was placed on my lap. “What kind of chick? She is a lady here,” I caressed the hairy ears. Laughing softly, Noah leaned forward and, using the kitten etiquette he'd learned from me, introduced himself to our newest friend before petting her. Now that the hood was off his head, I noticed the bite marks on his neck. The dark red spot was located right on the border between his tattoo and his bare skin so that it was just noticeable. I swallowed, tore my gaze from his neck, and reassured myself that Noah didn't seem as lost now as he did after most of his meetings with Karin. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she finally realized what she had to lose? Noah's fingers accidentally touched mine in the kitten's soft fur, and we smiled at each other as the furball began to purr loudly. I haven't seen Noah this happy since before Keaton's death. Maybe Karin isn't so bad after all? We ate breakfast sitting on the floor with a cat each in our laps and had to run back to the bus before departure.
*Too Close To Touch - Eiley **As Cities Burn - Contact
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
Note
HI! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUESTS TO OPEN!
Can we please get a song fic with "dial drunk" by Noah kahan??? Definitely gotta be a sad ending. I was thinking either Eddie or Steve, but you can pick! Thank you so much!
(I'd give you a kiss, but I've seen SB get jealous over less 🤭)
Jealous SB is one of my favorite versions of SB
Never proofread
I’m rememberin’ I promised to forget you now But it’s rainin’ and I’m callin’ drunk And my medicine is drowning your perspective out So I ain’t taking any fault Am I honest still? Am I half the man I used to be? I doubt it, forget about it, whatever It’s all the same anyways
Breakups were easy for Eddie because he never bothered to fall in love. He'd get into a relationship, hold himself from falling in love, and get over the girl a week after the breakup.
But now he's on month two of his breakup with Y/N and it hasn't gotten easier. She was the first girl that showed him what falling in love felt like. And she showed him how painful falling in love was.
Everything he touched, he ruined, and she was another thing he shattered. He held her heart in his hands and kept it safe for years and years. He took that heart with him to the bar and held it close while he got drunk, feeling the beating of her heart when he kissed someone new. Leaving her heart on the shelf while he felt the inside of another girl, not noticing the damage the heart would take.
Until the morning when he woke up with a girl that wasn't her, the heart burned when he touched it, glazed over with betrayal. He returned the heart to her with guilt in his eyes, and apologies were on his tongue. It wasn't enough. Her heart was in pieces, and she took every piece back.
Eddie promised himself he'd get over her, he vowed to forget about her in weeks, just like every other girl. But the rain was pouring as he drove to the bar, the same bar where he lost half of himself.
I ain’t proud of all the punches that I’ve thrown In the name of someone I no longer know For the shame of being young, drunk, and alone
Eddie lost count of how many drinks burned down his throat, but he was aware of how many times the guy next to him commented on the picture of Y/N. He took it out to stare at her, slamming the liquor down as he looked at the girl he missed.
His pity party was cut short when he heard the sexual comments the guy next to him had to say.
19....20....21..by the time the guy got to his 22nd comment, Eddie was yanking him off the bar stool. Shoving the man to the ground and trying to heal with every punch he landed.
I don’t like that, when they threw me in the car I gave your name as my emergency phone call Honey, it rang and rang, even the cops thought you were wrong for hanging up I dial drunk, I’ll die a drunk, I’ll die for you
Eddie heard the commotion all around him, but all he could focus on was releasing the anger, sadness, and regret that had built up in him. He heard sirens, and he felt hands grabbing him. His body was being slammed down with his cheek pressed into the sticky floorboards. His hands were yanked behind his back, feeling cold metal on his wrists as they were cuffed together.
He ended up in the backseat of a cop car, one place he vowed to never be in. But here he was, drunk, alone, and arrested. Just like his father.
When he arrived at the station, the cops asked for the number for his emergency call, and he gave her number. Eddie had no one in his life, she was the very last person, and she didn't want to be.
He listened to the call ring and ring. His heart raced the longer it rang; no trace of life on the other line.
The cop looked sadly over at him, a sense of pity in his eyes as Eddie heard the phone die out. He shouldn't be surprised that she didn't answer. This wasn't the first, or even the tenth, time he called her wasted off of his ass. She never picked up, and he hated that he wished for the outcome to be different every time.
I’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell I’ll change my faith, I’ll kiss the badge Just wait, I swear she’ll call me back Son, why do you do this to yourself?
The cop was getting ready to move him to a cell, but Eddie pleaded just to have another minute. He'd do anything for another minute just to have a gamble to hear her voice again.
He'd rot away with the other burnouts in a cell. He'll change his views, believe in new fates, and discover a new god.
"Please, sir, just wait. I know she'll call back." Eddie pleaded
The cop didn't seem convinced, the pity look taking over his face as he watched Eddie almost in tears.
"Son, why do you do this to yourself?"
"Because I know she will call back."
It was a lie Eddie would continue to tell himself.
Because in the end
I dial drunk, I’ll die a drunk, I’d die for you
tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93
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spexialvixtimxunit · 3 years
Text
Differences
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Prompt below the cut
I thought of this idea and I wanted to write it down.
DISCLAIMER- I am writing this so that people who are NOT of color can be aware of how racial slurs and hate words can be hurtful. It's awful that people who are not of color don't get bashed on as much as POC do. It hurts. I'm just here put some awareness on this topic (it's kinda controversial) that some people lack the knowledge of. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS DO NOT READ IT. I would hate for people to literally report my writing just because it is covering over a certain topic. Thank you for understanding,
Sincerely Yours,
Spexialvixtimxunit ☺️
Prompt - R/n gets harassed by a racist police officer and Olivia gets upset
*there are mistakes, I don’t proofread!
Here is my MASTERLIST
Pairing: Olivia Benson x Black!Fem!Reader
Length: Semi- Long
Warnings: Mentions of race and sexual orientation (slight offense comments towards reader but not strong racial slurs), Profanity (Med)
Word Count: 1,181
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“Mama, can we see Mom on our way home?” Noah asked as you picked him up from school. “Sure! Would you like a happy meal with that too?” You smiled as he nodded his head profusely.
You both got in the car and made your way to McDonald's and face timed Olivia. “Hello?” “Hi, My love how are you? Are you alright?” you chuckled at her comment. “Yes I'm fine Olivia,” you said with a smile.
“You look beautiful today my love,” Olivia said grinned. It was hot out so you were wearing a sundress with some sandals. You also had your braids up in a bun, not wanting them to fall on you from the hot weather. You pouted. “Why just today? I thought I looked beautiful every day?”
She smirked, “Yes you look gorgeous all the time~” You smiled in return from her compliment. “How is the baby?” She asked. “The baby is fine, just small kicks.” She smiled. “Noah wanted to see you today so we are coming over to the precinct. I bought some McDonald's and I got you a burger if you're hungry.”
She sighed “Yes, I am. I've been so busy that I forgot to eat.” Your face frowned. “Liv, we talked about this.” “I know, it's just so hectic around here and I–” “You forgot your lunch? Yep, I know. I saw it on the kitchen counter this morning when I dropped Noah off.”
She sighed again. “No worries Liv, I'm almost at the precinct so you won't die from starvation.” She laughed at your comment. “Can I speak to Noah?” Olivia asked politely. “Yeah. Noah, Mommy wants to say hi.” you passed the phone to Noah.
“Hi, Mom!” Noah said cheerfully. “Hello, my love how are you?” “I'm good! I got an A on my spelling test!” She gasped. “That’s amazing Noah! Maybe I should treat you to some ice cream? How does that sound?” Noah smiled and gave her a thumbs up.
“Okay Noah, I love you!” “Love you too Mom!” Noah pulled the phone close and kissed Olivia. He then passed the phone back to me. “I'm gonna hang up okay. I’ll see you when you get here R/n.” You smiled “Okay, I love you, Olivia.” “I love you too my love, drive safely.” And with that you hung up and continued to drive to the precinct.
-
The sound of the elevator made a ding, before opening on the floor. You made your way to the check-in. “Aunty Amanda!” Noah ran over to Amanda in the break room as you went to the signup desk. It was a man holding a pen writing something down. He looked up and saw your baby bump. His face turned a bit sour. “Let me guess, accident?”
You looked at him a confused. “Excuse me?” “I bet that baby was an accident, right?” You were taken back at what this man was saying. “I don't know who the hell you’re talking to but it isn't me, that's for sure. I hope you know that my wife would be very upset once she hears what's coming out of your filthy mouth.”
He laughed which made you even more upset. “You’re black and gay? Now, this is a story to tell.” You were utterly disgusted. This man was way out of place. “Excuse me, is there something wrong?” Olivia’s voice rang through the busy precinct. She could visibly see how upset you were.
She stepped closer to you and whispered in your ear “Go to my office, I got this.” you nodded and made your way over to the office and closed the door. Once you closed the door you saw Olivia, Fin, and Amanda yelling at the man. You looked over at the break room and saw Kat talking with Noah while he was eating his food with the door closed.
You tried your best not to let it get to you, but it did. You couldn't hold back the tears. Maybe it was because it was about your unborn child that you cherished the most. Maybe it was about the whole situation in general.
You heard the door open. You turned around to see Olivia with her face frowned a bit. She noticed your tear-stained face. “Usually, I can handle the racist comments but I don't know why this one hurt me the most this time.”
Olivia came over and comforted you, leading you both to sit down on the couch in her office. You sobbed as she tried her best to calm you down. “You don’t understand how hard it is for it not to get in your head.”
“You’re right. I don't understand but I want to try my best to help you.” Olivia said while rubbing your back softly. “I try to do everything the right way to fit in this society but life finds a way to shut me down.”
“This is not your fault. That guy harassed you and I'm sure that he wouldn't have a job tomorrow,” Olivia said reassuringly. “You heard the whole thing?” You asked and she nodded. You sighed as you just stayed in Olivia’s arms, feeling a bit better about the situation.
Olivia cupped her hands on your face, pulling you to look towards her “I want you to understand that no matter how different you feel or how different you may look, you will always be perfect to me no matter your race or sexual orientation. Okay? You are my wife and we are going to have a beautiful baby and raise a handsome young man and have the best family anyone could have okay?” You nodded at her assertion.
Olivia smiled and planted a kiss on your lips making you melt. She pulled away. “I can take the rest of the day off If that makes you feel better.“ You smiled sleepishly and nodded once again. Olivia helped you get up as she placed her hand on your hips securely as she gave you a hug. “I love you okay?” Olivia kissed you on your head and you wrapped your arms around her neck.
“I love you too.” She pulled away and smiled. “I also love you to my little bean baby~,” she said as she rubbed your baby bump making you laugh. “Are you ready?” You nodded as you both walked out of the office. You both walked out of the office. Amanda and Fin went straight to you. “Are you okay R/n? I was definitely gonna slap that guy.” Fin said that made you laugh a bit. “Yes I'm fine Fin.” you said softly. “How’s the baby?” Amanda questioned, placing her hands on your baby bump.
“The baby is fine.” You answered. Amanda sighed. “ You know I was this close to kicking that guy is his balls, but I didn't want to lose my job so...” You laughed at the blonde’s comment. “Mom! Can we go and get some ice cream?” Noah’s voice rang through the precinct. Olivia smiled at her son. “Sure.”
And with that you made your way out the precinct.
-
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Text
The Iowa Caucus Happened
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A job offer slides into Rafael’s DMs as he waits to find out if it’ll be a new start or prison on February 8.
Accidental Feminist Icon
Delete the Twitter app, Mr. Barba
“Mister Barba?”
Rafael didn’t like hearing his name from the young woman behind him, especially not given what he’d done. He’d texted Carmen on the first day of the trial, and she’d agreed to look into the offers from attorneys he knew, and some he didn’t, while he sat beside Dworkin and emotionally prepared himself to testify. The ones he’d looked at the night before came from people he didn’t like or were last resorts. He’d moved from his visceral response to finding law to back his actions. Applying logic could let him detangle himself from his conflicted emotions. Catholic guilt wrestled his humanity. That said, he also found himself desperate to introduce Ollie to music as Carmen worked from his apartment that first afternoon, not caring for once as the toddler drooled or sneezed or spilled all over him.
“Yes?” he asked, taking his coffee from the cart. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“We haven’t. I follow you on Twitter.”
“Ah,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss-”
“Rachel Sullivan. I have, like, a reading Twitter.”
“I’ve seen that! Read with Rachel? Your icon is a copy of Howl?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, chuckling. “I just- listen, I know it’s bad what’s going on and a lot of people are really hurt and going after you. Do I get it? No. But, I think you didn’t get a good choice, and you did what’s right for you. When it seems impossible, it’s not my place to judge something I can’t fathom. And a lot of people feel the same. A bunch of us have a group chat and we hope everything goes well and you get to start again.”
It was a stark contrast to his interaction with mami or emails from church ladies. There was an acknowledgement of disagreement, but he needed more people to respect that they weren’t there like she did. He also remembered watching his father die, and while he didn’t like the man, he regretted not ending that pain. It only drew out hurt for everyone. 
“Thank you, Rachel. That really means the world to me.”
“Good luck today,” she said, giving him a wave when she took her coffee and left. By the end of the day, Rafael hated Peter Stone for being a damn good prosecutor, and he wondered if there were any cases he’d tried, especially the ones before SVU that he was wrong on. He made his way into a new bar, definitely not his usual during all of this, and he sat and drafted his resignation. It took longer than he cared to admit, and he restarted and reread it time and time again. By the time he was drunk, he’d written something he could proofread the next morning and ignored calls from Olivia, Carmen, and mami. 
He decided it was time to do what he had been dreading, logging into Twitter. Since Carmen had cleaned it up, more people had found him, and he was able to easily ignore anything hateful by skimming for murder or murderer in the body of the tweet. He skipped those, and Rafael was surprised to see some apathy, sympathy, or respect for his reasoning. Lazily, he scrolled his direct messages. A select few of the people who knew him contacted him with revulsion, but his filtered messages were filled with vitriol. He found Rachel’s account again, following her back and deciding he could break his unspoken rule of only following people he knew or the occasional blog/podcast/museum/celebrity. If anyone contacted him with kindness, he was now more open to the reciprocity of Twitter; no one would be asking him to prosecute their case soon.  
He saw a message from Tripp Greene. In Harvard, they’d had an unspoken alliance as the two scholarship kids in their cohort, a silent allegiance that continued into law school. There were very few people Rafael respected personally from Harvard, but Tripp had remained kind, even if he worked in something as ruthless as politics. They’d been reunited by Rafael’s uptick in Twitter popularity. He was more proud than he should be by the potential presidential candidates that had followed him. Rafael should have known Tripp would reach out; he was ever the silent cheerleader and had watched a sibling die on life support when he was at Harvard. They’d discussed the morality of pulling plugs and the selfish desire to keep people alive, though most of it had been Tripp talking and Rafael listening.
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While moving to Iowa seemed extreme, he was acutely aware that he would end up haunting the DA’s office and Manhattan SVU like some ghost of ADAs past instead of moving forward. His mother had a boyfriend and looming retirement that seemed likely to take the pair to Miami, where she could play grandma to his grandchildren. There was nothing left for him here but Carmen, and while a great friend, she was not enough to erase the last twenty-one years of his life. When Carmen called for the fifth time that night, he ignored it, but it was quickly followed by Answer the phone or I tell Olivia I haven’t heard from you. With a groan, he answered when Carmen called again sixty seconds later.
“I’m fine. I don’t want to delve back into a play by play of my day.”
“That’s why you’re drunk at seven o’clock,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm as she pretended that solved everything.
“It’s only been two hours?”
“You’re not at Forlini’s.”
“I’m not hanging out with Stone.”
“Send me your location. I just picked Ollie up from mom’s.”
“Take your son home, Carmen. I’ll be fine.”
“But we could talk about how much I also hate Stone. I’ll even stop and let you grab take out from that Cuban place you like.”
“Deal,” he acquiesced, motioning he wanted to close his tab. “Call me when you’re close.”
“Deal. ETA is about fifteen minutes.”
He polished off his scotch, signing the check and tipping well before taking his briefcase and leaning against the wall as he waited for Carmen’s SUV. She waved at him out the window, and he hurried into her passenger seat. Though he always knew that she was a great secretary and assistant, Carmen was proving to be the friend he needed right now. Olivia, in the few phone calls they had, was unwilling to discuss anything but the case. She was in cop mode, and she talked to him like she could swoop in and fix what he had done. While she thought he didn’t know, she’d talked to McCoy, talked to Stone, talked to anyone who would listen. But what she didn’t understand is that he’d accepted going to prison was a possibility, but it was one he felt was worth it.
“Barba!” he heard from the backseat, smiling softly to see Ollie more awake than he’d expected. He’d seen the boy periodically, mostly during evening handoffs when Carmen’s mother would drop him off so Carmen could take him home. There were a lot of single mothers in his life, and all were exceptional. The last few days, Carmen and Ollie both had spent a lot of time with him. He kept introducing Ollie to music and movies and foods like he could make up for everything Drew wouldn’t experience by making sure Ollie did.
“Oliver!” he smiled, twisting around to smile at him. The boy kicked his leg, and the blue stripe on the rubber of his sneakers lit up. “I like your shoes.”’
“Thanks,” he giggled, kicking again. 
“You’re good with him,” Carmen smiled, the navigation now leading her to get his take out. 
“He’s a good kid. Noah made me better with kids. Liv said I held him like a sack of flour at first.”
“You’ll be ready by the time you have your own.”
“I work too much.”
“That can change.”
“I don’t deserve to have a child,” he shrugged, and he could see Carmen purse her lips. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be good at it anyway. Wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I might end up like dad. No kid deserves that shit.”
“Bad word!” Ollie scolded, tablet in hand as he watched a movie.
“Sorry, Ollie. Stuff.”
“You’ve never told me what he did.”
“He wanted heterosexual, toxic machismo and got a swarmy, emotional bisexual.”
“You’re not that emotional.”
“He took care of that,” he said darkly. “I used to cry when he went after mami. That turned his attention to me.”
Carmen knew there was nothing she could say, so instead she silently took his hand, squeezing softly. He was taken aback at first, but he kept her hand loosely in his as his head lulled against the headrest. It was strangely grounding, the physical affection. He’d felt like he was swimming the last few days as memories of his father, his father’s death, his childhood, and each case he tried bubbled up. That wasn’t including the vision of baby drew and Maggie in the hospital room that lingered everywhere. 
The conflicting guilt and conviction he’d done the right thing also broke a damn and the feelings he’d suppressed- loneliness, guilt, abandonment, distrust- were all bubbling to the surface. He’d spent so much of his life trying not to process them so he could focus on a conviction rate and moving forward that he didn’t have the tools everyone else did sometimes. Right now, Carmen felt like an anchor, and he was grateful for her. 
He got out of the car when Carmen parked, ordering enough food for three adults, one take out container containing whatever he thought a toddler could handle. Soon enough, they were settled in his living room and eating, though Ollie had minimal interest in the pork, beans, and rice in front of him. The thought crossed his mind that when he took one of the out of state jobs, he wouldn’t have Carmen there like this. He was sure this friendship would be short lived; when he didn’t need her anymore, she’d leave him. That’s what usually happened, wasn’t it? She just felt bad for him.
“I’m moving to Iowa,” he blurted out before he was able to spiral into the self loathing he’d recently discovered.
“That’s far,” she said, and he thought he could detect sadness in her voice.
“There’s FaceTime.”
“Not quite the same, but I’ll take it.”
“Tripp understands,” he said, sobering up as the food hit his stomach. “He lost a sister. Watched someone dying like with my dad except she’d been born that way. It was years, Carmen.”
“That’s a lot. I’m going to miss you, Rafael. Ollie will too.”
“Come visit. If the tickets are bad, I’ll pay. Or cover renting a car.”
“You’re drunk,” she chuckled. 
“Sorry. Best friend. It’s the rules.”
“We’ll come. But I can afford tickets.” 
“Promise if it’ll make things tight, you’ll let me. You’re raising a kid. No kids means I can afford to get my friend the occasional plane ticket.”
“Deal.”
“Next week, will it be Des Moines or prison? Who knows! I’ll probably grow a beard either way. Think they’d recognize me in prison if I grow a beard?” 
“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Stop shaving and we’ll find out.”
She could see Rafael getting tired, head leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. She preferred when he joked about all of this. They were stuck waiting, and this time the next night they’d probably know. Ollie climbed between them on the couch, and she realized her boss wasn’t the only one almost asleep. 
“You two can stay,” Rafael yawned, hand smoothing Ollie’s curls back. 
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. It’ll be nice not being alone in the morning. And you can stay here to work. We didn’t talk about it, but I know you hate Stone. He’s a good attorney. Doing his job.”
“His job is wrong.”
“That isn’t his fault. If another ADA had done what I did? I’d be prosecuting them.”
“Go get ready for bed,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. As she scooped Ollie up, she kissed the top of Rafael’s head. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Carmen?” She turned in the doorframe. “Thank you. For all of this.”
“I’m glad to, Raf. Promise you’ll actually sleep.”
“I promise.”
“Night, Barba,” Ollie yawned, waving over his mom’s shoulder as they entered his guest room. Maybe Iowa was going to be too far if he didn’t go to prison. He was getting quite fond of having Carmen around quite quickly. He wasn’t going to be her superior anymore, so this friendship could be something he maintained. 
Olivia would be a given; even if they were primarily united around work, she was also one of his closest friends and maybe not working together would make him relax. Hell, maybe the end of his life in the city would do it. Rafael couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt he was chasing an upward trajectory in New York City. Even at Harvard, the plan had been to return. Maybe coming into Des Moines established would let him feel comfortable just existing. 
He liked cooking and reading in the park and going out dancing on occasion. He rarely had time for two options, and the latter made his cheeks red with embarrassment at the prospect of a colleague seeing him during the outing. In Iowa, maybe he could go dancing and take up a new hobby and wear jeans without feeling like something was out of his control. 
He woke up before Carmen, excited to be able to cook for her. He appreciated the fact she was happy to help him, but she had paused her own life for the last few days. Their friendship was relegated to offices and dinners by the office. He’d come to her baby shower and birthday parties and even a holiday party, but that was it and that had other colleagues present. Except maybe the baby shower, but he was determined to buy up whatever was left on her registry when the day came, using mami, abuelita, and the older women at church as pseudonyms to pretend he’d just let family know. 
“You can cook?”
“I just never had time,” he shrugged, tray coming out of the oven.
“You made pastries?” 
“Pastelitos de guayaba.” Carmen didn’t miss how proud he looked as he admired them. They were something he’d always made with family. “They aren’t hard, but abuelita used to make them for me all the time. Puff pastry, sweetened cream cheese and guava paste. Cafe con leche on the way.”
“You couldn’t sleep?” He shook his head, pouring the espresso and adding the milk before placing mugs at the breakfast counter. His mouth was set in a line now, the corners sucked in as he focused on the countertop. Her hand rested on his, giving a squeeze and he rewarded her with a soft smile. “We’ll be helping you pack for Iowa in no time.”
“I hope,” he nodded, biting into a pastry. Ollie came out, eyeing the countertop. “Want one, Oliver?”
“What are they?”
“Delicious,” Carmen groaned, having torn into her own. That was enough for Ollie, who accepted a pastry from Rafael with a soft Thank you before biting into it carefully.
“Wow! It is good!”
“I’m glad you like it.”
It felt a somber affair, despite the pastries, when Carmen saw him off to court. She chose to wait in his apartment, ringer on high and news coverage on. Ollie was easily entertained by the toys she had in the car, and the phones were forwarded to be answerable on her cell phone. By the end of the day, she’d put dinner in his slow cooker and cleaned most everything at least once. And then her phone rang with his ringer. She’d picked one of the other presets for him long ago, and she watched Ollie with his blocks as she answered.
“Rafael?”
“Not guilty,” he exhaled, still unable to believe it as he surveyed his office to begin packing. Her desk was empty, and he didn’t mind today because if she had been here, McCoy would’ve had her helping Stone. Carmen was his assistant, his friend, and it was bad enough to know Stone would probably take his place at work.
“Thank God,” she whispered. “Did you turn the letter in?”
“I put it on Jack’s desk. I’m hoping to be gone buy his return. I think three heavy boxes will cover it. Plus anything I hung, but other than diplomas most of it came with the place.”
“I put dinner on. Ollie and I ran to the store and picked up short ribs and potatoes and carrots. I needed something to do.”
“Nervous you’d be visiting me in prison?”
“You know damn well juries can be swayed. You’ve done it.”
“And I’m safe. I’ll be there in a couple of hours, okay?”
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you get to go to Iowa.”
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ao3feed-pynch · 4 years
Link
by yo_soy_el_perro
You’ll never get my mind right Like two ships passing in the night In the night, in the night Want the same thing where we lay Otherwise mine’s a different way A different way from where I’m going Oh, it’s you again, listen, this isn’t a reunion So sorry if I turn my head - In My Bed by Amy Winehouse
-
Adam hasn't seen Ronan in years, ever since their relationship ended on rocky terms. He's excited to see him again and try to mend their relationship.
take from it what you will.
Words: 1962, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Noah Czerny
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, Richard Gansey III & Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish
Additional Tags: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Psychological, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Open to Interpretation, Emotional Manipulation, One Shot, Amy Winehouse - Freeform, Ten Years Later, Angst, Heavy Angst, Self-Hatred, Confusion, Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Past Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, School Reunion, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, no magic
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ao3feed-trc · 4 years
Text
in my bed
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3b9zJYJ
by yo_soy_el_perro
You’ll never get my mind right Like two ships passing in the night In the night, in the night Want the same thing where we lay Otherwise mine’s a different way A different way from where I’m going Oh, it’s you again, listen, this isn’t a reunion So sorry if I turn my head - In My Bed by Amy Winehouse
-
Adam hasn't seen Ronan in years, ever since their relationship ended on rocky terms. He's excited to see him again and try to mend their relationship.
take from it what you will.
Words: 1962, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Noah Czerny
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, Richard Gansey III & Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish
Additional Tags: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Psychological, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Open to Interpretation, Emotional Manipulation, One Shot, Amy Winehouse - Freeform, Ten Years Later, Angst, Heavy Angst, Self-Hatred, Confusion, Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Past Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, School Reunion, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, no magic
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3b9zJYJ
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deadlycupid · 1 year
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sea otter - taod college au
for @writerfae <3
song: freight train - Sara Jackson-Holman
Never in his life before had David been in a penthouse on top of the highest building of the city.
But here he was, wrapped up in a blanket and having the city view all to himself. As if he was a god looking over his creation.
Evan’s penthouse was huge, wide spaces and tall ceilings, but the more time David spent there the lonelier it felt.
There were three of them and the apartment seemed to swallow them all.
As much as David loved sitting on the fluffy carpet in the living room and watch over the busy streets, he could never imagine living here. Not even with all his friends. Not even if he invited the whole world.
He heard a rustle behind him but was too captivated by the gray clouds kissing the windows from time to time to turn around.
It was either Noah or Evan anyway.
Not long after the noise a rhythm was played on the piano. So it must have been Evan who kept him company now. David hadn’t talked much to him. He seemed nice, though, a little too confident in himself maybe. But David was hardly ever one to judge.
What David could say about Evan was that he was an amazing pianist. David had seen him play even the hardest of songs and the way he could play a melody out of whatever Noah threw at him was astonishing.
It was really mesmerizing listening to him. And now Evan started to play a quiet almost nostalgic melody. At the same time David heard footsteps behind him and then two hands softly touched his shoulders.
“Hey,” Noah whispered before sitting down behind him.
David allowed him to wrap his arms around him and hold him.
“As soon as the rain stops I’ll drive you home okay?”
David nodded his head. It didn’t matter but if rain meant spending more time with Noah then David hoped for a monsoon.
Evan kept playing the same melody over and over again. The rain hit the windows harder and rolled down in little rivers.
And before David knew it Noah was singing, the bitter-sweetest song David had ever heard.
“Grief is a freight train, oh what’s a little pain when you’ve got so much to love,”
Noah sang softly and lulled David in completely.
It was ridiculous but upon hearing the song David’s heart ached for something he had never felt and his body sought for something he had never known. He had to swallow a sob that tried to escape his throat. The song was beautiful but so sad.
For the chorus Evan joined his brother and they sang together in harmony.
“Close your eyes take to the sky like a big blue kite.”
Momentarily, David thought the rain was pouring down harder, as if the sky was getting sadder by listening to the brothers sing, or maybe they where the reason it was raining in the first place. Or maybe there was no difference between these two things.
Noah hugged David closer to his chest as he kept on singing the second verse on his own again.
“Love is a slow song, playing on the radio I know every word by heart.”
When the song ended David was nothing but a puddle of his own feelings inside Noah’s arms. The piano ceased and with the faded footsteps David knew that Evan had left the room too.
“That was beautiful.” David whispered.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
David shook his head and Noah nestled his nose against David’s neck, his lips gazed the skin only slightly.
“What if it never stops raining?” David asked, his voice far away.
“It will hardly rain that long.”
“No, but I mean what if it doesn’t stop raining today?”
Noah lifted his head. David felt his piercing eyes stare at him but he didn’t give him the satisfaction to turn around.
“What are you trying to tell me, tiger?” Noah’s voice, too, was soft now.
“I don’t know.” David sighed. “Just- Can you stay with me tonight? Here, at your place or mine. I don’t care, just… don’t go…“
“Oh, David.” Noah leaned his head against the younger’s. “Anything you want. You don’t even have to ask.”
David sighed, then he turned around and looked at Noah. It was hard to believe sometimes that Noah loved him.
Out of all people he could choose from he had chosen David, who had nothing to give except fir patience and his heart, that he had locked away so carefully.
But with every day, hour, minute, spent with Noah one of the locks broke and he got closer to ripping it out and handing it over to Noah entirely.
And it terrified him.
God, it did, but he couldn’t stop.
So instead of lingering on these terrifying feelings he leaned forward and pressed his lips on Noah’s.
Noah escaped a surprised sound before he caught himself and kissed David back. Let the younger guid them and take the lead and when David pushed him gently Noah laid flat on his back so that David could crawl over him.
Noah pulled away after awhile and tucked David’s brown hair behind his ear.
“What is going on with you today, carino?” Noah asked and David hated and loved it at the same time that Noah had picked up on the spanish pet names he used for him.
His cheeks flushed slightly as he leaned into Noah’s touch.
“I don’t know, just general melancholy.” David muttered and kissed Noah’s palm.
Noah hummed in response.
Noah’s hand slipped through David’s hair as the younger leaned down do cradled himself agains Noah’s chest.
Noah immediately wrapped his arm around him and David drew little patterns in the soft material of Noah’s shirt.
“Where do you want to go? My small downtown apartment or your comforting room?” Noah whispered.
Somewhere in the apartment a door closed gently, reminding David that they were not alone.
“When do you have class tomorrow?”
“Around noon.”
“Could we go back to my place then?” David asked tentatively. He craved the comfort of his bed, the knowledge that he was save there.
“Sure, anything you want.”
And if David spent the rest of the day curled up against Noah’s chest, watching movies then that was no one’s business, because sometimes all you needed was the comfort and care from a person you loved to get through the day. And sometimes doing that alone was enough.
taglist
@writerfae @writing-is-a-martial-art @conundruminprogress @dontcrywrite @sleepy-night-child @bluehourskyeli @dragon-with-a-pen @avian-writes @apeir0ph0bia @poetinprose
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deadlycupid · 1 year
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the greenhouse kitchen - taod au
“Tommy!” Nico yelled when he tripped over a very friendly looking plant. The pot fell over and earth spread across the floor.
That was it, Nico had enough.
“Tommy!!”
Immediately the taller boy showed up in the door frame of the kitchen.
“What do you want?”
“What is this?” Nico gestured at the kitchen, that was over floated with plants.
On the window sill (which would have been fine), the table (was there even table underneath that jungle?) and the floor (why in the floor too?), everywhere you looked there were plants. Big, green plants.
“You don’t like the arrangement of my houseplants?” Tommy asked.
“Arrangement? This is a private mini rainforest! I could ask for an entrance fee for entering our apartment now. Come, look at this little ecosystem that’s growing in the kitchen.” Nico made a French voice, that he hoped sounded both mocking and snobbish.
“So you don’t like it?”
“Not like it? Tommy, do you not see what I’m seeing?”
Tommy sighed. “I don’t have enough space in my room.”
He pulled a chair back to sit on but on it were three cactus. He eyed them for a second and then with parental care he picked them up and put them near the sink, before dropping down on the chair.
It was adorable, honestly.
“Don’t tell me you have more in your room.”
“No, these are all. But I still haven’t unpacked everything, so I can’t put them there. But even then all of them won’t fit, my room was bigger at my parent’s house.” Tommy patted a plant with gigantic leaves.
“You’re not going to force me to throw them out, are you?”
Tommy sounded so defeated, as if Nico was a tyrant, coming to his city and prying away his children.
“God, no! Look, Tommy, we’ll find a solution. But they can’t stay in the kitchen. At least not all of them. It’s a kitchen and not a greenhouse.”
Tommy nodded.
“Yeah, I know.” He scratched the back of his head, messing his already messy curls up even more.
“We could start with moving some of them to the living room. How does that sound to you?” Nico asked.
God, he sounded like he was talking to Railey when he had one of his anger tantrums.
However, Tommy immediately agreed and picked up two of the plants from the table, a bit of the wooden surface appeared underneath it.
“Wait, let me help you.”
Tommy flashed him a grateful smile, all bright and squishy, and ugh Nico had to look a way.
Nico sighed and looked around the kitchen before his eyes landed on a rather big plant, that one definitely had to leave the kitchen.
“You don’t have to carry Gisela.” Tommy tried to stop him when he saw what Nico was reaching for.
“She’s kinda heavy.”
“It’s fine. I can carry her.” Nico snapped back.
Who did Tommy think he was? Just because he only reached Tommy’s chin doesn’t mean he is incapable of carrying heavy stuff.
Nico regretted wanting to proof Tommy how capable he was immediately and wished he had picked the three cactus instead.
But there was no turning back now.
“Do all your plants have names?”
“No, just a few like Gisela. My grandma actually gave her to me when I was 12. She’s, so to say, a grandma too.” Tommy laughed at his own joke and Nico had to stifle a groan.
Gisela was heavy and large, and usually Nico didn’t mind because it meant more to hold but not with Gisela. With her it meant ungrateful slaps in his face and a weirdly feeling wet stain on his leg.
Could plants pee? God, Nico hoped not.
— — — —
“I’m not saying he can’t have plants, but why did he have to be a friend of plants and bring all of them home to me?” Nico asked and leaned forward on the couch. “He’s like a child who brings home bugs.”
Noah laughed at that.
David joined them in the living room, leaning against the door frame with his own glass of self made lemonade.
“Have you met Gisela yet?” He asked and took a sip.
“I did not only meet her. I carried her around the apartment yesterday to find the perfect half sunny, half shadowy place for her.” Nico put his own glass on the table, a little too firmly, the flower bouquet on it shook with the after waves.
“Apparently she’s a drama queen. You know who else is one?”
Noah ginned and looked at David, who looked lovingly back, and then at Nico before he asked: “You?”
“What? No! What makes you say that. It’s Tommy, obviously.”
Noah laughed and Nico glared at him annoyed. Not even his best friend took him seriously anymore.
“Oh, shut up!”
David smiled at him apologizing and walked over to sit on the arm of the armchair Noah sat in. Noah wrapped his arms around his fiancé and pulled him onto his lap to smother his shoulder with kisses better.
Nico withstood the urge to roll his eyes.
That was why he didn’t visit them as often anymore. If he wanted to feel lonely he would watch the notebook or brokeback mountain and not visit it his best friend.
Before David and Noah had moved in together, Nico had his best friend’s undivided attention all for himself. And as much as he liked David, it would be nice if sometimes Noah would focus on Nico and not on him.
David indulged in Noah’s childishness for awhile before he gently pushed his head back, smiling softly.
“Give Tommy some time to settle in, Nico. I promise you, he’s not as bad as you make him sound like right now.”
And when David said that it must be true because after all Tommy was his best friend.
taglist
@writerfae @writing-is-a-martial-art @conundruminprogress @dontcrywrite @sleepy-night-child @bluehourskyeli @dragon-with-a-pen @avian-writes @apeir0ph0bia @poetinprose
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deadlycupid · 2 years
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Southern sea lion - taod college au
“We won’t see each other the whole summer, tiger.”
“I know,” David mumbled, looking down at his fingers that he nervously fiddled with.
“It’s only six weeks, right?”
“I’ll miss you,” Noah confessed.
David nodded his head. He knew all of that already and it had hurt thinking about it but the pain he felt now was overwhelming.
“Hey, look at me,” Noah said softly, placing his fingers under David’s chin and pushing it upward.
“I’ll call you everyday.”
“But the time difference.”
“I don’t care, I’ll make it work. Hell, I write you letters if I have to,” Noah grinned and even David had to smile.
“But it won’t be the same, you won’t be here,” David mumbled.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Noah leaned his forehead against David’s. Their hands dangled beside them, intertwined now.
“I wish you could leave a piece of you behind for me. Just something to comfort me when I’m feeling lonely and miss your touch.”
“Why not?” Noah said suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“Here, wait.” Noah detangled himself from David and reached behind his head. David watched as he opened a necklace and slowly pulled it from his t-shirt.
It was a silver chain with a blue pick. Noah took David’s hand, his palm open and laid the necklace in it.
“For you.” Norah whispered. “Something to remind you of me.”
David felt his throat tighten as he looked at the pick in his hand.
It had a little shark scribbled on it and some sea shells, it was unremarkable Noah’s. And now it was David’s.
“Don’t you need it to pay guitar?” David asked dumbfounded. Noah shook his head slightly as he laughed.
“No, god no. This one has a more sentiment feeling because it was my first pick I have ever gotten. I have plenty now, I won’t need it.”
Noah brushed David’s hair back and let his hand rest on his neck.
“And now I want you to have it. Allow me to put it on?”
David nodded his head, too focused on Noah’s red eyes and the small smile on his lips. Quickly Noah put the necklace on him. He traced the pick that was gently resting beneath David’s collarbones, then pressed his hand to David’s rapidly beating heart.
“It has the colour of your eyes.” He mumbled and David looked down.
“Does it?”
Noah hummed. “Just like the ocean.”
Then he pressed his lips to David’s temple.
They lingered like that for awhile before David gently leaned his head up again. Their eyes locked for a minute, a second, and David feared, wished to get lost in the dark red of them.
“I’ll kiss you now.” Noah whispered and David nodded his head. Slowly Noah leaned in, giving David enough time to change his mind, but David had already closed his eyes and waited for the soft touch.
Noah kissed David and for a moment David forgot everything. His hands fisted into the soft material of Noah’s cardigan, holding him close, while Noah cradled his cheeks. They broke away from one another when the sound of a sharp whistle reached them. David’s cheeks burned velvet, for the moment he had forgotten that they were still at the college campus.
When he turned he saw Tommy, holding Nico’s hand, on the other side of the campus. He waved happily their way and even though David was embarrassed he waved back at his best friend before hiding his face in Noah’s shoulder, who immediately wrapped his arms around him protectively.
“A bunch of idiots are they, huh?” Noah laughed and the sweet sound shook his chest.
David breathed out. He wished he could be tucked into Noah’s side, shielded away from the world forever. But in less of a week Noah would be on the other side of the world, discovering the secrets of the ocean while David was here all on his own.
“I’ll miss you too.” David mumbled into the fabric.
“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye.” Noah reassured him. “You won’t even notice I was gone.”
David wanted to disagree but for the moment he also wanted to believe Noah, wanted to believe that he wouldn’t miss Noah like the air in his lounges. He wanted to believe that six week could pass like a second.
“Let’s go somewhere. Hm, what do you say? Or do you have to go home?” Noah had leaned down to whisper into David’s ear.
David shook his head.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere, where the Ruby takes us.” Noah answered and with his arm draped over David’s shoulder he led them to the parking lot where Noah’s red mustang waited glistening in the sun for them.
Yeah, for the moment David could pretend that Noah wouldn’t be gone for six weeks. For the moment he could enjoy this.
He would live in the moment, David decided before his kissed Noah’s cheek and got into the car, ready for the adventure Noah would take him on.
taglist
@writerfae @writing-is-a-martial-art @conundruminprogress @dontcrywrite @sleepy-night-child @bluehourskyeli @dragon-with-a-pen @avian-writes @apeir0ph0bia @poetinprose
@saphoblin tagging you bc you seemed interested even tho you don’t know my OCs and now you can get to know Noah and David!
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deadlycupid · 2 years
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Young Master
cw: talk about suicide attempt
This scene heavily talks about Tommy’s past and his bond with David, if the cw mentioned triggers you or makes you uncomfortable pls skip this or read it with caution!
“David Emilio, the boy who saved my son’s life.” Tristyn announced to the room. There wasn’t a big audience, only David and his parents, a few servants and knights, Tommy’s parents and his grandma that stood beside his throne holding onto his bruised hand, and yet it felt like an important ceremony.
But Tommy guessed in a way it was, after all he had survived the devil’s drop, something no one had done before, and it was all thanks to the petite boy with the shining blue eyes, now one of them covered by a white patch, who currently hid behind his father, George, the servant closest to Tommy’s family.
Thus Tommy was no stranger to the other boy. Tommy was a year older but that didn’t stop them from occasionally playing in the court yard together or telling each other stories while Tommy once again hid from his family’s duties. They had met countless of times, either on their own accounts or because of the pre school lessons Juana, David’s mom, gave Tommy.
They had a bond so pure and kind, that Tommy felt bad that David had to witness his misery. He felt bad that David had to be the one to save him, that he had shown weakness where he should have been strong, that he had let his emotions control him which had let him to such desperate decisions.
“Step forward, David.” Tristyn said.
David let go of his fathers hand but didn’t move, not until his mother placed her hand on her son’s back and with a smile pushed him gently.
“You hold all our gratitude and we are in your dept. If there is anything you wish for, name it and it shall be yours.” Roxana pleaded as she got off of her own throne to meet David at the bottom of the few stairs.
“You saved my son, David.” Roxana muttered. “I don’t know how to thank you for that.”
Tommy adverted his eyes. He felt bad for the terrors he made his parents go through. But he was also mad that they didn’t seem to understand what had pushed Tommy to take the fall. They had said it was family business that Tristyn would tend to and that they didn’t need to make a big fuss about. And yet they threw this ceremony for David.
David, the boy who waited for Tommy to talk first. The boy who taught him how to fold laundry and how to wash dishes.
David, a kinder demon than the underworld deserved, because even though his skin was like the half shadows in the corners of the light, he still shown the brights.
David was always gentle and patient with Tommy and waited for him when Tommy needed more time to catch up with a thought or idea.
David was his light in this dark world.
David was his anchor.
And Tommy kind of wanted to live, for him.
Tommy detangled his hand from his grandmother’s and groaning, he stood up.
“Tommy-“ She started but he cut her of with a short hand motion.
Tommy had no memory of how David had saved him, he was pretty sure that he had already jumped when he had heard David’s voice, so the bruises all over his body weren’t a surprise.
But with every single sting Tommy felt he hoped that David hadn’t taken any harm more harm than him. That the wound on his eye now covered by an eye patch was the only wound he carried. Tommy would hate himself for hurting him. He couldn’t bear the thought that Tommy had caused him pain because of his selfish actions.
When Tommy finally stood somewhat up right he cleared his throat, immediately all eyes were on him.
“I want to talk to David.” His voice was hoarse and didn’t carry as much authenticity as his fathers. Therefor he added, emphatically: “Alone.”
The servants and knights looked to his father and when he nodded they all bowed and left the room. Next were David’s parents, who hugged him and whispered their goodbyes.
Roxana helped her mother out of the room when Tommy’s dad turned to him. “Are you sure about this?”
Tommy nodded his head firmly. “Yes, sir. I want to thank him on my own. With no one to hear.”
Tristyn stared at his son for a long time, it seemed like he wanted to say something but then decided against it, instead he patted Tommy’s shoulder firmly and then left the room, too.
It was silent in the throne room them and Tommy sighed. That had been all he had wanted from the beginning. Silence.
Tommy hobbled down the steps with difficulty, his eyes fixated on David. He had to pause at the end of the stairs, every step cost him energy he didn’t have.
David had watched him the whole time, his hands folded in front of him, but Tommy could still see how he nervously played with his thumb. David stood there like a ghost who had lost his way, confused and unbeknown how he got here.
“David.” Tommy mumbled, his voice gave out on him but he didn’t care that much now that it was only the two of them.
As if David’s name had evoked something in him he came over to Tommy and fell to his knees.
“Young Master.” David said, his voice low and full of concern. He reached for Tommy’s had and kissed the ruby on the ring around Tommy’s thumb. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
David’s lips touched Tommy’s knuckles and moved over every bruise Tommy carried there.
“I should have gotten to you sooner.”
The touch was gentle but Tommy felt David’s tears on the back of his hand, where they fell onto and in cold rivers run down to his finger, too and it broke something in him.
David shouldn’t be the one kneeling in front of him. Tommy should kneel in front of David. Tommy had no right to place himself higher than this boy, who had given everything to save him. Tommy was no better demon than him and he wouldn’t let his status define that.
Only when Tommy had learned what it meant to be grateful and brave, what it meant to be self assured but not egoistic, would he place himself equal to David, who had already learned to be all of that. But until then Tommy should be the one on his knees, looking up at David and let him be his guidance.
“Stand up.” Tommy whispered.
“I can’t, Young Master.”
Upon hearing that Tommy sank to his own knees, being eye to eye with David. He held onto David’s hands, painted soothing patterns into the back of them, when he added.
“Don’t call me that and don’t kneel in front of me. Not anymore.”
David looked up then.
“You are more than a friend to me, David. You are my brother. The flame burning next to my own. The rules and boundaries do not belong to you anymore. Do you understand?”
David gasped muffled, but nodded his head.
“I understand, Young- Tommy.”
“Good.”
Tommy leaned forward then, to press a light kiss on David’s temple before wrapping his arms around him to intertwine them in a warm and comforting hug.
David, his friend, his brother, his reason to learn to become better.
David, the boy who inspired him to live.
The boy, whose flame burned so bright that Tommy had enough warmth to light his own up once more.
For all eternity.
taglist
@writerfae @writing-is-a-martial-art @conundruminprogress @dontcrywrite @sleepy-night-child @bluehourskyeli @dragon-with-a-pen @avian-writes @starlightwhisper @poetinprose
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deadlycupid · 2 years
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all I’ve been dreaming of - taod modern au
a little heads up this is just a silly little idea I had in 2021 it’s in no way canon and just for the sake of this au and for the laughs
Tommy sat on his canopy bed, with one hand he was patting his black cat and with the other he scrolled through social media. His head bounced to the beat of the music. All in all he was very content with how the day played out. Later his boyfriend would visit him and they most likely would watch some movies until midnight and then Tommy would convince him to stay over for the night. So he couldn’t be happier.
That was until he heard the knocking on his door.
“Young Master, your mother awaits you in the dining room.”, George, David’s dad and housekeeper of Tommy’s family, said through the door. “Someone on the phone would like to talk to you.”
That was most likely his grandma. She usually called on the weekend to tell them “important information”.
That important information was usually how the weather was, what her neighbours did all week long and asking Tommy about his “little sweetheart”.
Who was also known as Nico, his boyfriend, who was anything but a little sweetheart. Yes, he was shorter than Tommy, but he was fierce. So little devil would have fitted him better but Tommy couldn’t tell that his grandma. Also Tommy highly doubted that she would call Nico a little devil. Though he had to admit that it would be funny.
“Thank you, George.”, Tommy answered and scratched Toska behind his ear once more, the place he liked it the most. Toska purred blissfully and rolled onto his back to straighten his legs. Then he sleepily yawned. Toska looked so cute, it almost made Tommy’s heart burst.
“I’ll be cuddling you even more when I’m back my cute monster bat.”, Tommy promised and got off of his bed. When he reached the door Toska meowed as if he was asking where Tommy was going.
“Don’t be sad. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
In the dining room Tommy’s mother sat on the gigantic mahagoni table and listened to the person on the other side of the phone. Tommy cleared his throat to signal his mother that he was present. She looked up, her lips curled into a soft smile.
“Oh, Grace! Tommy just came down. I’m sure you want to talk to him”, Roxana said and held the phone in Tommy’s direction.
That was when Tommy realized who had called. It was his distant aunt from England, who Tommy had visited some years ago. His mood peaked immediately.
Aunt Grace was cool. She might be a Lady but she was also the kind of person to listen to Christmas songs in august, talk to her plants and watch anime until 1 am. She had taught Tommy a lot of things in that one year and showed him all the best places in England.
“Hello, Aunt Grace.”, Tommy said immediately switching to a British accent. That was one of the things he had learned or rather he had copied.
“Oh, Tommy! My boy, how are you doing? Are you still together with Nico? And how is David? You have to tell me everything?”
Tommy couldn’t help but laugh.
“Always one thing at the time. I’m fine. Yes, Nico and I are still together. We are actually meeting today. And David is doing fine, too.”, Tommy answered.
“That’s good to hear. I just talked with your mom about boring stuff. You know how she is. A lovely woman but always so concerned about everything.”
Tommy nodded his head even though Aunt Grace couldn’t see him. That might not have been the exact words he would use to describe his mother, but it was true.
For her the world could end any second. But Roxana was more than that and Tommy got to see those rare moments, thankfully. He wondered if being a lawyer made her this paranoid. Or if it was simply his mom’s personality.
“Anyway, we were just talking about you and if you would like to visit me this summer. How does that sound? I already told Roxana that you would love to come!“
“Oh my god! Are you joking? Of course I would like to visit you!” Tommy had never heard any better news. This day just kept getting better.
His mother smiled as she got up from the chair. “I’ll leave you two alone then,” she excused herself and left the room, probably going back to her office, looking over some of her case files.
It didn’t really matter because Tommy was already caught up in the wild stories his aunt told him. Half of the time he wasn’t sure if the things she told him actually happened but then again he didn’t care. It was always a lot of fun listening to the stories she told, so who cared if they weren’t real.
Time flew by so fast that he only got reminded that he had other plans when George knocked on the door and opened it.
“Young Master,” George informed him. “Nico has arrived.”
Nico slowly entered the room. He wore a black t-shirt with skulls over a red shirt and his long black hair was pulled back under a cap that he wore backwards. He shyly waved and Tommy couldn’t help but smile.
“Uhm aunt grace, Nico just arrived.” Nico’s eyes wides when he heard Tommy speak. “I’ll call back later, okay?”
Tommy’s British accent crumbled. Suddenly he was super aware of his voice.
“Oh, marvellous! Oh, I know, you can bring Nico with you this summer. I would love to meet your lover boy”, Aunt Grace exclaimed excitedly.
“Eh, yes, I’ll make sure to ask him.”
Tommy shrugged his shoulder in a what he hope apologizing way towards Nico, who just shook his head.
“I’m waiting in your room,” Nico mouthed and left the room. The big smile on his face didn’t escape Tommy. And he couldn’t stop wondering what made Nico so happy.
“We could order pizza and act like vampires on the phone. Oh, oh I know a location where I have to take you two! Nico will love it.“
Was she already planning their summer together?
“Sure. Uhm but I have to ask Nico first.“
This was already Tommy’s second attempt to politely end the phone call, but it seemed like his aunt didn’t understand the hint.
“Of course! Oh young love! What a bittersweet feeling! Take good care of it. You can lose it so easily. I once was in love with this-”
“I know, you told me that story already. You fell in love with this beautiful woman, who left you for a man and her duties.“
Tommy had to reach for drastic manners, his mother would be outraged if she knew how Tommy spoke to his aunt.
“Ah, I’m stopping you from snogging with your boy, aren’t I? Then go, Tommy. But don’t forget to ask him and call me back.“
Tommy’s cheeks burned up upon hearing what Garde said.
“Yeah, I will. Goodbye.”
“Bye, Tommy! Love you!”
He said love you back but all he could hear from the speakers were the steady tut tut.
He laid the phone back down on the table and took a few deep breaths. Then he hurried through the corridors and stairwells back to his room.
When he opened the door his eyes instantly spotted Nico and Toska curled up next to each other on his bed cuddling.
“So you found someone else to cuddle with, huh”, Tommy said, not sure who his comment was meant for. Because honestly he wasn’t sure of whom he was more jealous right now.
Nico looked up and his cap fell off his head and onto the bed. His hair was a mess but all Tommy wanted to do was to mess it up even more, to run his hands through Nico’s hair and to curl it around his fingers.
“So uhm when were you going to tell me that you can speak with a British accent?” Nico asked with a smirk on his face.
Tommy frowned.
“Never,” he stated but even he could tell that it sounded more like a question.
Tommy wasn’t sure if Nico liked the accent or if he was going to make fun of him. He couldn’t read his body language, not like he usual could and that made him cautious.
“God, Tommy! You’re going to be the death of me!”
“I’d rather not have you die on me.”
Nico breathed in and shook his head.
“Just come here, before I lose my composure.”
Nico patted the space next to him on the bed as if it was his own. Cautiously Tommy crawled onto his bed and laid next to Nico. The later gently placed a hand on his arm and patted it lightly. Their heads laid next to each other and Tommy tuned to his side to face Nico. For a while neither of them said anything. They both embraced the comfortable and reassuring silence.
Eventually Toska would get up, disappointed that he wasn’t given any attention anymore, and lay down on the window sill where the sun tickled through the clouds and heated up the ground.
Nico moved his hand from Tommy’s arm to his face and in return Tommy placed his hand on Nico’s waist. It wasn’t Nico who initiated the kiss but he was the one who started trailing kisses along Tommy’s jaw up to his ear.
“You sound so hot when you speak with an accent,” Nico whispered into his ears. And Tommy swore that he had die then and there.
“Oh my! Nico! Stop, this is embarrassing!”
Tommy’s face was burning when he shoved Nico away from him but still held onto his shoulders.
“I’m sorry”, Nico softly spoke.
“But I think you should know, that it’s the truth.”
“I just can’t believe you just said that!”
“And I can’t believe that you kept that secret from me for so long! I can’t believe I was imagining you talking to me with a British accent when I could have had the original talk with one all the time. You were being really unfair.”
“Wait, you imagined me speaking to you with a British accent?” Tommy smirked, switching to his accent: “Was it turning you on, darling?”
Now it was Nico’s face that glowed bright red.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Nico couldn’t escape Tommy’s eyes so he just stared back.
“And if it was so?”
Tommy rose his eyebrows and smirked. When he leaned back up to kiss Nico’s jaw, soft giggles escaped Nico’s lips. It was a sound so unusual and free that Tommy’s heart melted.
Nico rolled onto his back and pulled Tommy with him.
Tommy slowly worked his way up, kissed Nico’s cheek, every single one of his freckles and then lastly the tip of his nose.
“Stop, you’re literally going to kill me if you continue being so soft with me.” Nico hummed, his hand running through Tommy’s curls.
“Not going to happen.” Tommy said and kissed his boyfriend on the lips once more, softly and with all his love. Then he pulled away and laid back down again.
His hand found its way back to Nico’s waist where he traced mindless patterns into the fabric of his shirt.
“Would you like to come with me to England this summer?” Tommy asked, then focused onto Nico’s black eyes. They widened slightly when he mentioned England.
“Before you freak out, my aunt invited you. She really wants to meet you.”
Nico closed his eyes shortly and smiled.
“I would love to, Tommy. I really do.”
“But?”
“No, but. I’m just imagining you talking with your British accent all summer long.”
Tommy couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Oh, would you shut up about it already.”
Then suddenly Nico got up on his elbow, face close to Tommy’s, his long hair tickling his cheek. Nico bit his lip, a habit to hide his smile, that Tommy hated, but somehow still adored.
“Never.” Nico whispered, then he kissed him again.
taglist
@writerfae @writing-is-a-martial-art @conundruminprogress @dontcrywrite @sleepy-night-child @bluehourskyeli @dragon-with-a-pen @avian-writes @starlightwhisper @poetinprose
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deadlycupid · 2 years
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stay quiet - taod mafia au
for @writerfae (hope I can make your day better with this 🤍)
“Ah, Jesus fuck!” Tommy muttered, shaking his hand and inspecting it for a wound in the pale light. Nico immediately pushed him from behind when he didn’t go on.
“Why are you stopping?”
Nico pressed against his thigh again.
“No shoving!”
“Then keep moving!”
“I can’t, something pricked my hand.” Tommy whined. He was now feeling for a spike in his palm but couldn’t find one.
He heard Nico sighed.
“If I had known you were such a baby I would have taken Noah with me to spy on the Fallen Angels.”
“No reason to be mean.” Tommy muttered and rolled his eyes, yet he kept on crawling.
If Tommy had known that for an observation he had to crawl in the gutter he wouldn’t have volunteered.
Honestly, he had thought it would be a lot more fun than this. In his mind he was wearing all black clothes, with a holster and a gun and his hair slicked back.
The light would fall onto him and make him look all mysterious and hot. And maybe, just maybe Nico would notice and fall in love with him. (One could at least hope.)
In reality, he did wear black clothes (even some really cool black boots) and a holster with a gun but his hair was a mess and his clothes probably too from all the crawling in the dirt. Ain’t no way Nico was falling in love with him now.
“And you really think they are around here?” Tommy asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”
Tommy had to give him that one. Yet he found it highly unlikely that the most respectable and dangerous mafia clan was holding a meeting in this old rotting building, that threatened to collapse any second.
Even Tommy was used to more luxury and he wasn’t as highly respected.
Then again the Fallen Angels wanted his death, so maybe he had been handled with a lot of care his whole life. But was that his fault? Hardly.
Tommy had not chosen to be his father’s successor, the Redburn’s heir. And only god knew how often he had tried to out run his own destiny. How often he had fantasized about leaving his family and living a normal life, with mundane problems in a mundane neighbourhood where gossip revolved around who was dating who and not who had killed whom.
But he couldn’t have that life so it was useless to reminiscing it never happening.
“Okay, now on your right should be a ladder.” Nico informed him and he was right.
The ladder wasn’t more then a few metal bars fasten to the wall. They were rusty and as Tommy looked further up he saw a few of them missing. Just great.
“And we’re supposed to go up there now?”
“If the gentleman didn’t mind, today.”
Tommy sighed but started climbing up the ladder.
Under his breath he muttered: “the things you do for love.”
The broken bars ripped his soft skin open but Tommy bit down on his tongue to mute the cries of pain that dared to leave his lips.
Nico behind him made no sound at all, as if the sharp edges couldn’t hurt him at all.
Though that must be false because Tommy knew that Nico most likely didn’t feel the pain because of the numerous scars that already graced his hands.
Tommy had often wondered how Nico had gotten them but never worked up the courage to ask him. It felt rather intimate to ask and Tommy was afraid that they haven’t reached that level of closeness yet for the question to come across as casual.
Tommy reached the top first and pulled himself up over the edge. He held out a hand for Nico, Tommy, how Nico had pointed out already, was a gentleman after all, and after a hesitant second Nico grabbed it. With a swift motion Tommy pulled Nico up, he was a lot lighter than Tommy had thought he would be.
Now they were cramped together in a chute, Tommy guessed what used to be a ventilation shaft, though it was important to mention that Tommy hadn’t really taken a look at the blueprint previously.
He had been too distracted sitting in front of Nico who had leaned forward, revealing a good portion of his upper body when the button up shirt, that he never fully buttoned, had been dragged down by gravity.
Nico on the other hand had memorized the whole route after all and led them to the exact spot they wanted to be so now he felt like it made no difference if he had paid attention or not. A piece of the wall of the shaft was missing and gave them a perfect view of the meeting of the Fallen Angels, but still hid them well enough so that they wouldn’t be caught.
Tommy’s heart stopped for a second when his eyes focused on the men all dressed in black suits. Those were the people he had hid from his whole life. Now they were not even five meters away from him. His father would be furious if he found out. His mother’s face would be pale from nausea. But Tommy couldn’t help but feel exited.
Tommy and Nico position themselves next to the hole, each of them on one side.
Operation: spying on the Fallen Angels could start.
But the distance and the hushed voices made it almost impossible to understand what they were saying, only snippet now and then would reach Tommy and Nico but they didn’t help them make sense of any of the actual conversation.
“-bomb on the decks.”
“The little princeling- missing-“
“Probably dead-“
Tommy’s eyes widened. That was him they were talking about. Little Princeling, a nickname he hated to death.
More important however, the Fallen Angels thought he was dead. Everyone probably thought that. His heart sunk thinking about his parents, David, even Lilieth.
They were probably mourning him and he had no way of notifying them that he was still alive.
“The little Princeling?” Tommy whispered instead.
“The heir to the red falcons.” Nico answered shortly.
“Is it beneficial when he’s dead?” Tommy asked despite fearing Nico’s response. But he needed to know what his worth was to Nico with his title. What he thought of him when he wasn’t just a skilled fighter who happened to be a victim of the bomb explosion on the decks that made him end up as Nico’s responsibility.
Nico sighed. “Good for the Falken Angels.”
“And for you?”
“Me?” Nico shrugged his shoulders. A few strains of his long hair had slipped out of his ponytail and snugged around his jaw lovingly. Tommy’s hands twitched to reach out and tuck them behind his ear.
“I thought I would meet him someday and could be friends with him. That was when my parents were still alive. But years have passed and he has never been seen in public. I’d like to believe that he’s still alive, solemnly so that I can meet him and form a bond with him. I’d like to have him and in extension his family, on my side once the war starts.” Nico’s gaze flicked shortly towards him. “And now be quiet.”
Tommy turned his head back to the Fallen Angels, who were still deep in their conversation.
“We have to be careful-“
“The watchdog-“
“-goes furious.”
“Next victim-“
Tommy couldn’t understand the rest of the sentence.
“Who’s the next victim?” He asked Nico quietly.
“How would I know? I sit right next to you, I don’t understand more than you.” Nico growled.
“You think they mean the watchdog?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t I say ‘stay quiet’?”
Tommy sighed trough his nose but didn’t say a word. He suddenly felt helpless. What if their next victim was David? What if David got injured because of him? Tommy would never be able to forgive himself for that.
“-find that little devil-“
“How did he even escape?”
“-take down that Asian bastard.”
“-thinks he’s so high an mighty.”
Tommy sucked the air in sharply.
���Don’t you dare say a word.” Nico hissed and turned his head towards Tommy. His black eyes glistened dangerously in the pale light.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“No? Toska, we are observing them, not having a little chat. All you’ve been doing is questioning me. The question you have could have been answered afterwards.” Nico said, his voice stern.
“But we hardly hear anything from here.” Tommy tried to defend himself as if he was a child.
“And with you talking we hear even less.”
“Well, then shut me up!” Tommy was getting frustrated too now.
“I will.”
“Yeah?” Tommy said, an eyebrow rose in challenge.
The next thing Tommy knew, were Nico’s lips pressed on his own. He gasped slightly, which only encouraged Nico to deepen the kiss, then his hands found their way to Nico’s hair and he pressed back.
While their kiss grew more intensely, neither of them was willing to submit to the other, Tommy untied Nico’s hair and let his hands run through the long rivers of black hair. In the mean time, Nico placed his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, steadying himself there since he had blindly lurched towards Tommy.
Tommy pulled on Nico’s hair and he moaned into Tommy’s mouth, all thoughts left Tommy’s brain.
“You’re the worst spy ever.” Nico mumbled against Tommy’s lips, never straying far from them.
“And yet I’m here with you.” Tommy couldn’t hide the smile.
His hands run down Nico’s sides, over his strong muscles to his hips. Then he pulled Nico down, so that the younger sat in his lap. Nico gasped surprised but only leaned forward to kiss Tommy again, his hands now one in Tommy’s hair and one around his neck.
Tommy’s lips move from Nico’s mouth to his jaw and down to his neck, where he peeled the turtleneck down to leave open mouth kisses along Nico’s artery.
“You planned this, hm?” Nico mumbled, shuddering when Tommy sucked in his skin. “In your tight jeans. Thought I wouldn’t notice, pretty boy?”
Tommy whined.
“But I notice you. All the time. Staring at me when you think I’m not looking. Dressing up pretty when you know we will meet.”
Tommy breathed hard against Nico’s neck. The sensation of Nico’s words and the way he toyed with his black curls had him weak. Damn this shaft, if he could have Nico only here, he would spend the rest of his life on this dirty floor.
“Who are you?” Nico whispered and Tommy lifted his head, ready to tell Nico the truth, lay all his secrets bare in front of him.
“Yours.” Tommy mumbled against Nico’s lips instead and kissed him again. And again and again. And this time Nico gave in and Tommy deepened the kiss, his hands running up and down Nico’s back.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Tommy nibbled on Nico’s lips.
“Believe me I do.” Nico stuttered.
Tommy felt hot all over. He wouldn’t ever let Nico get up from lap again. He didn’t care what his parents told him about Nico, they got him all wrong.
Nico wasn’t cold or aggressive. He was calculated and focused, focused on keeping the ones he loved safe and he didn’t care what he had to give to achieve that goal.
Nico wasn’t selfish. He was cautious, because he knew what it meant to lose someone. And Nico was so so soft under all his carefully constructed layers of thick leather. He was just a boy, who wanted to be loved. Who wanted to give up a bit of himself and know that it would be handled with care and protection. And god was Tommy ready to do just that.
Slowly Tommy pulled away from Nico and brushed his hair behind his ear. Nico was so beautiful even in this little light.
Nico’s hair didn’t stay tucked so Tommy repeated the process and Nico leaned into his touch. Like Tommy’s cat Toska had done a million times when Tommy scratched him behind his ear, Nico pressed his head into Tommy’s hand now.
“You’re so-“
Tommy couldn’t finish his sentence because Nico pressed his thumb against his lips.
“You talk too much.” Nico hushed, his thumb moved down Tommy’s chin along his Adam’s apple, leaving a hot trace wherever Nico touched him.
Tommy’s head fell to the side and he looked through the hole in the wall again, reminding himself why he was here in the first place.
“Shit, they are gone.” Tommy let out surprised, his back straighten unwillingly.
“I know, they have been for awhile now.” Nico answered him bored.
“You-?”
“I can multitask.”
Nico leaned forward to kiss Tommy again but the grin on his lips didn’t slip Tommy’s eyes.
Truth be told Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care about the Fallen Angles. The information they had gotten had been patchy from the very beginning.
But Tommy doubt that Nico would let them get anywhere near them. It was then that Tommy realized he might be holding the deadliest weapon in this war of families in his lap right now.
Perhaps it should have been freighting but instead it felt exciting.
Tommy sighed and leaned up to kiss Nico harder.
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deadlycupid · 2 years
Note
WHATCHU MEAN "NOT PROOFREAD WE DIE LIKE NOAH"
I ONLY JUST MET THEM DONT BE PLAYIN WITH ME
uhm so in the original story Noah is actually a Ghost, which is fine, it’s not as bad as it sounds like and it has significance to the plot I swear
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