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prettybrunette3 · 4 months

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National Anthem ♡

hello all! this is my first multi-part fic, and I hope you like it! part two will be posted very soon :)

part two!

part three!

warnings: toxic snow, bribery, fem!reader x young!coriolanus snow, use of Y/N, that's it for this chapter!

I hope you enjoy! this is national anthem ♡

The capitol streets were bustling with the obnoxiously ignorant, blind-sighted chatter about the games this year. People in all the most unnecessary of extravagant clothing, smiling, laughing, and celebrating death. It was sickening, truly. Hearing them talk about their favorite tributes and the gruesome details of their death made you want to rip all your hair out.

Surprisingly, you were not a stranger to this life. Born a capitol brat, you shouldn’t let this get you to your breaking point at all. A senior in the academy this year, you vividly recall the students being mentors in previous years; the thought of helping a child to their death made you want to vomit.

So, you tried your best to get your single errand for the day done as fast as possible. Your goal: to find a dress for the gala in a few days. Nothing too showy, but not too modest. A dress that screams, ‘I’m pretty, but smart. I am a district doll.’ As the President’s daughter, appearance and impression were the two most important things drilled into your head.

Your father, President Stirling, was a new favorite of Panem. His pride for the land, his love for the people, and his goals for the future are what got him elected. He was a very clean-cut man, always showing how much he loved his family.

You knew better though. He was a cold man, one who hardly showed affection behind closed doors, a man who had spoken very rarely to his daughter. You didn’t really know much about him, always locked in his office and never really caring about you. Unless, it was about your appearances or impressions.

Scurrying through the mall, you quickly find your go-to dress shop, a more quiet and less popular location. This dress shop has all of the current trends, but they always had something different about them that you loved. You hated capitol fashion, but it was your only option as the most looked upon girl in Panem. At least they all had a unique look to them.

Entering the store and smelling its sweet fragrance, you hurriedly got to work. Giving every dress you liked to a worker, she put it in the dressing room for you. A common customer, they adored your business. They adored your money.

Dress after dress, you had finally found a winner. A thin-strapped velvet dress with jewels adorning it in a beautiful pattern. It was a deep red, floor-length dress. Happy with the way it adorned your body, you took it off and handed it to the shop worker. Swiping Daddy’s credit card, you smiled at the workers and thanked them sincerely for their help. They handed you the dress across the counter and you started to make your way home.

Navigating the large mall, there were people everywhere. You did your best to hide your face, sunglasses and all. The President’s daughter was always known as the Princess of Panem, a girl that the younger children looked up to. It was hard to be unnoticed.

Swerving and dodging people to the best you could, you made it outside at last. Unfortunately, your presence had become known and now none other than Lucky Flickerman was awaiting you outside. Probably one of your least favorite capitol citizens, always pushing you for personal answers to appeal to the audience.

Trying your best to spot your driver without being noticed, you see the blacked out SUV parked right down the street. It was a different car that dropped you off, but this SUV was still branded with the President’s logo. You open the doors to exit the mall, and Lucky Flickerman is already on you.

“Is that the anticipated gown for the Gala, Ms. Stirling? What color is it? Just a peek? We’d love to see it!”

By the time he was done getting his jumble of questions out, you had already reached the SUV. Opening the passenger door, you quickly threw the dress in the back. However, you noticed your driver was a different man than usual.

“Coriolanus? Did my dad send you as my driver?” You took the sunglasses off your face, confusion taking over as you awaited his answer.

Coriolanus Snow was your father’s newest intern. A charming man, certainly. He was handsome, smart, and cunning. You had a schoolgirl crush on him since he started working for your family, but you pushed it to the side. You didn’t want to be just another nuclear wife with a nuclear family in the capitol. You just weren’t ready to accept your inevitable fate.

“Yes. The other driver wasn’t aware he was supposed to wait for you, and he returned home,” Coriolanus says. He puts the vehicle in gear and begins to take you both back to your estate.

“Oh, that’s odd. He’s never done that before,” you say. He was a nice man, you had actually gotten on with him quite well. You weren’t sure where communication went wrong.

“Yeah. He was fired immediately after he stepped in the door.” Coriolanus doesn’t look at you, just keeps his gaze on the road ahead of him.

You didn’t expect much less from your father at all, but still your chest ached for the nice man. After all, he talked to you more than your own father did.

You looked at Coriolanus for much too long after he said that. You admired his slicked-back blonde hair, his prominent jawline and you took in all of his aura you could. The Snow family had a newfound power in recent years, and boy did he know it. He was dripping in luxury. He carried himself with such seriousness and coldness that it drew you in.

You broke away from your trance, looking forward at the road as well. It was hard to focus on anything but him when you were around Coriolanus. He too was a capitol brat, one of the worst. He supported the games in all their glory, though he was never too extravagant about it. He’s a few years older than you, meaning he’s seen more of the games. He probably accepted the fact that they were never going to end.

Stuck in your thoughts once again, you hadn’t even realized you reached your estate that quickly. The car stopped, and Coriolanus opened the door and shut it quietly. He headed to your side of the vehicle and opened your door, holding out his hand for you to grab. Blushing, you smiled and took his hand, slowly exiting the car. He opened the back of the car, retrieved your dress, and you two headed into the house. “Thank you, Coriolanus. You didn’t have to do all that,” you speak gently. “It’s a part of my job, Y/N,” he says coldly. You wonder if you’ll ever get past his emotionless wall. You enter the house, and Coriolanus hands the dress off to a helper so they can take it to your room.

“Lovely seeing you today, Miss Y/N,” he says before walking back towards her father’s office. He strides when he walks, hands in his pockets and chin up. You smile to yourself, before heading up to your room.

The next day at the academy was dragging. Excitement bubbled in your stomach for the Gala the next day, and all of the classes were giving you a headache. You didn’t need them anyway - your success was guaranteed thanks to your father.

As you were finally dismissed from your last class, you gathered your things and headed for the door. Cascading down the stairs, your best friend Bridgette Sinclair joined you.

Both of you had been friends for years, taking a fancy to each other's' company. She was a shorter girl, with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. A true capitol beauty, you had always thought. She too was born into the power she had, and she too believed all the same as you did. She didn’t act arrogant, never bragged on any of her assets. You loved her like a sister.

“I say, we go to the park and discuss the Gala tomorrow! I can’t wait to see you there, Y/N.” You giggled with the girl, allowing your teenage personality to peek through.

“Let’s go to my house instead, I’ll show you my dress!” You smiled and jumped up and down, finally allowing yourself to be true to how excited you were.

She squealed in response as you waited for your driver. You hoped and prayed it wasn’t Coriolanus, Bridgette would never shut up about it. She knew about your crush, and she wanted you to talk to him so bad. Every time she’d hear about him, see him, or even just think about him, she would always tell you and then laugh at your blush.

The both of you sit and gossip until the black SUV comes to pick you both up. Fingers crossed behind your back, you open the door with your other hand, and almost roll your eyes. Coriolanus is your driver again, of course. His blue eyes look at you through the rearview mirror as you sit down, not breaking his gaze even when Bridgette sits next to you.

“Still no new driver I guess, yeah?” You look back at him through the window as he suddenly stops staring. Bridgette laughs and grabs your hand.

“Uh- yeah no. Not yet. Your father is a particular man,” Coriolanus says, hesitantly.

He slowly starts to take you both back to the estate, the car ride consisting of awkward stares from Coriolanus as Bridgette pesters you through hushed whispers. You almost feel as if he’s hearing everything she’s saying. You smack her quickly and quietly in hopes she’ll shut up.

Arriving at the estate, Coriolanus does the same thing as before and opens the car door for you and Bridgette. However, his hand is only offered to you, not her. A strange action for him, you had always known him to be cold but still very polite. You took his hand and exited the vehicle before running into the house with Bridgette, looking back at Coriolanus as a ‘thank you’, before heading inside.

“Y/N I have got to see your dress. I won’t tell anyone what it looks like, just please show me!” Bridgette plops onto your bed, anticipating your dress like a child on Christmas morning.

You smile and head into your closet to retrieve the gorgeous gown. Grabbing it off the hanger, you slowly unzip the protective bag off of it. Bridgette’s eyes widen as she gets up to feel the dress, jaw dropped to the ground. She feels the material all in her fingers, gently admiring everything about the highly anticipated gown.

“Oh my God Y/N. It’s beautiful. I absolutely love it!” She starts smiling widely before getting a mischievous grin on her face.

“You know who else will love it,” she says, giggling slightly.

You zip up the dress and hang it back in the closet, getting flustered by Bridgette’s continuous mentioning of Coriolanus. As much as you wished he had noticed you in the same way, you knew it would never happen. You were just like every other girl in the capitol. Nothing special about you. You wished he would see you as something special, but you were sure he didn’t.

“If you don’t stop mentioning him, I'm going to strangle you, I swear.” You point at her, smiling sternly. She puts her hands up in a ‘it wasn’t me’ motion, before you plop down onto the bed next to her.

“I really wish he did say something to me, just once you know? He is really handsome,” you admit. You hardly ever opened up about your feelings for him, just felt like getting it off your chest.

“I know, Y/N. But I'm telling you, in a dress like that, with looks like yours, you won’t go unnoticed. There is simply no way he won’t stare at you tomorrow. And believe me, I noticed him looking at you in the rearview today. And! He only gave his hand to you for help out of the car. That had to mean something!” Bridgette sits up on the bed, you shortly following. She shakes your shoulders and tells you to be more confident in yourself.

Hours pass by discussing makeup and flirting tips and all the other girly topics you could think of. All in preparation for the gala, of course. You discussed which shoes to wear, which hairstyle would look best, what color lipstick, everything. You knew you would feel pretty tomorrow, just maybe not pretty enough for him.

Bridgette left after all the discussion, being picked up by her own driver. As you were walking back to your room after taking her to the door, you spot Coriolanus in the hall. He was passing off cash to a man you had never seen before. You quickly hide in the doorframe and try to listen as best you can. The man is short, seems friendly enough.

‘Maybe a new hire?’ you think to yourself. Then, you’re finally able to pick up their conversation.

“Just let me pose as the driver for a few more days. I won’t tell Mr. Stirling. Just leave the premises when you’re supposed to pick her up, and return back to the house in however long it would take you to pick her up yourself. Just this last time,” Coriolanus quietly whispers. He’s practically begging the poor man, shoving wads of cash towards him.

‘Are they talking about me? He wants to drive me around? Is that why he’s been my driver?’ Thoughts are running through your head a mile a minute. So fast, you weren’t able to notice the conversation being over, and Coriolanus now heading your way.

Too late to try to hide, you slowly start to reveal yourself as if you had just been walking to your room. He spots you immediately, eyes getting wide. You smile at him slightly, before trying to reach the stairs. However, he speeds up and grabs you by the shoulders, pressing you against a nearby wall.

“Did you hear any of that, Ms. Y/N? Be honest with me.” His eyes piercing into yours, quickly darting from your lips and back up. He looks absolutely insane.

“I- uh no. I don’t even know what you’re talking about I swear,” you lie. His eyes are scanning your face frantically before he releases you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. As I'm sure you’re now aware, I'll be your driver. Be ready at 5. I’ll pick you up.” He slowly stares for just a second before walking away. He’s wearing a long coat, taking long strides. Something about him is so addicting.

You catch your breath for a second, slowly starting to put the pieces together. He knew you were listening, and now you knew you were correct. He wanted to be your driver and he was bribing the new hire! Oh you couldn’t wait to tell Bridgette about this.

You hurriedly headed up to your room, changing into your PJs and getting ready for bed. Your mind continuously running on overdrive, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything, except the fact he was taking you to the gala tomorrow. Did he like you?

Getting into your bed, it wasn’t long before you fell asleep, Coriolanus heavy on your mind.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #corio snow #fluff #toxic #rich #dark #young coriolanus snow

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fivestar-outlaw · 8 months

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New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch. 3)

Chapter 3: Scorpions

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.5K+

Warning(s): insecurities and discussion of insecurities, angst, someone's rude to MC :( (None of the guys), slight hurt/comfort, dumbdumbs in love but dont realize each others feelings

A/N: Here is chapter 3. I think this one is the second hardest to write (The fourth chapter is kicking my ass rn). I'm not sure how I am feeling about this chapter? I had like three/four different ideas for it. Sooo I did a 'spin the wheel' and went with what it landed on for this lol. I feel like this is the weakest chapter but it has some charm. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy <3

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

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"I can't tell her, Woo." Seonghwa sighed.

Wooyoung nearly ripped out his hair at the very similar phrase he has heard you tell him before. The others all groaned as they lounged around in the recording room, 10 minutes before they needed to start recording and re-recording lines for their last song on the next album.

It was now February, two months since Seonghwa figured out his feelings towards you that night you fell asleep on video call. He immediately told Wooyoung the next day he had been right and ever since then, the younger has been trying to push Hwa into confessing. He even tried assuring the older male that you most likely returned his feelings without giving away you told Wooyoung you developed a crush on Hwa just a few days before Hwa told him.

Woo's mind thought back to his conversation with you a week ago.

"I don't think he likes me like that, Woo. No matter how much you tell me." He heard you say with a dejected tone through the call. He had snuck away on his own during practice, having the choreography down before the others. "I mean, I met him as a fan. I don't want him to think I offered him to sell turnips for this outcome."

"I don't think he assumes any ulterior motives, (Y/N)." He said softly. "He speaks fondly of you."

"And that's another thing. He is Seonghwa. He is the super kind, very lovable, handsome, and talented guy who loves to mimic his villagers, build Legos, and is an all around great person. It's hard not to fall in love with him... and then there is me. The average looking, college student working at the local bookstore. I feel so inadequate-"

"Hey. Don't speak like that about yourself." He scolded, his tone and facial expression serious. "You are amazing. You are beautiful. You've been a great friend and we all deeply appreciate and love you."

"Sorry." You sigh. "I just... I want to believe you, but it's hard, you know?"

"I get it, I do. Just... keep thinking on it, okay?" Wooyoung smiled sadly. He could see the self-doubt was still eating at you and his words didn't fully penetrate the self-conscious wall you built up. He just hoped you'd keep holding out long enough for him to try and push Seonghwa into confessing.

"Okay, why not then?" Yuhno asked, exasperated.

"It's clear she only views me as a friend. And I am fine with that."

"You don't know that for sure, hyung." San offered a kind smile.

"Are you guys sure (Y/N) likes me like that?" Hwa gave them each a pointed look. Everyone tried arguing that it was clear to them you did, though the only one who knew for sure was Wooyoung. "I... I truly come to appreciate her and every time we speak I feel like I am falling further and further for her. She is sweet, funny, gorgeous, and I feel my heart is always about to burst when talking with her..."

"He's a love sick puppy." Yeosang teased, making everyone chuckle. The eldest's face adorned a bright blush but he made no attempt argue against the notion.

"It's adorable seeing you crush so hard on someone, hyung." Mingi cooed.

"Why not try and talk to her now? It should be..." Hongjoong looked at the time, seeing that it was nearly 10am for them. "... about 6pm for her. Try gauging her feelings for you and bring up wanting her to visit next month for her spring break."

"I don't know..." The eldest unlocked his phone and had your contact pulled up. Wooyoung immediately moved spots and sat next to Seonghwa.

"Seonghwa-hyung, just go for it. We are all here cheering you on." Jongho smiled softly and the others nodded in agreement.

"And its not like your confessing now either. We've told you the signs, now watch for them." Wooyoung added. The others decided to join in on the call, hoping to catch anything that gave away you had feelings for their friend.

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling as he pressed the call button. He felt two large hands on both shoulders pat him and give a firm squeeze as he slowly extended his arm to make sure everyone could be visible to some extent. He felt anxiety building up with each ring, waiting anxiously for you to pick up.

They all smile when you finally pick up. You were sitting at your desk, adding what looked like the finishing touches of your makeup on your face. You looked at the camera with a small smile before you looked down, picking up a tube of lipstick.

"Hello boys. Usually you text me before you start a call. What's going on?" You ask, eyes flickering to the phone again before you focus on your hand mirror.

Seonghwa felt Wooyoung nudge him off camera. "I wanted to check in on you, (Y/N), and they all decided to join me."

"Aw, really?" Your face seemingly brightened at the fact and the eldest could feel Jongho on his left excitedly tap his leg.

"Compliment her, Hwa." Hongjoong hissed into his ear, a toothy grin was on his face as an attempt to mask any suspicion.

"Did one of you say something?"

"O-oh it must of cut out." Seonghwa nervously chuckled. "I said you look amazing. Is there a special occasion going on?"

You got a bit bashful and smiled, though everyone could tell it didn't fully reach your eyes. "I got asked out on a date."

Seonghwa felt like he was punched in the gut.

But his face remained soft with a smile.

"Really? Who is the person?" He asked, his voice steady.

The others eyed him in concern but did their best to mask it while on video.

"His name is Charlie. He is in my English course this semester. We worked on some in-class assignments together a few times before he asked me out today."

"I'm happy to hear. Well, we better get going. We are about get to recording." Hongjoong could pick up some shakiness in Hwa's voice. "Have fun and please periodically message me, just to give me peace of kind on your safety."

"Thank you, Seonghwa, and I will." You gave them a wave goodbye before hanging up the phone.

It was silent in the room. Seonghwa slowly lowered his arm, resting his phone and hands in his laps. The smile he had dropped just as slowly as he took in a deep, trembling breath.

"Hwa, are you okay?" Hongjoong hesitated, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.

"Yes. I'm fine, Joong." He asserted, getting up from the couch.

"Are you sure?" San asked.

Languidly, the eldest turned to face the rest. Their breaths caught in their throats. His eyes were full of tears, his lips were quivering as he still maintained his smile.

"I told you guys I am just a friend to her. And I will be fine with that." He sniffled, one tear rolling down his cheek. He hastily wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "Please, lets drop it and get work done today."

"Of course, hyung." Yuhno spoke with a comforting voice and stood up, wrapping an arm around the older males shoulders. "Lets grab some waters together." Carefully, the taller of the two led Hwa out of the room. The second the door closed, everyone exhaled.

"Maybe...Maybe we were wrong." Jongho mumbled.

"No we weren't." Wooyoung insisted, pulling out his phone.

"Wooyoung-" San tried to speak but the younger male kept talking.

"We weren't! (Y/N) told me herself she likes Seongwa!" The others watched as he called you, pressing speakerphone.

The phone rung a few times when they hear the line click.

"It's just me, (Y/N)." Woo gave the others a look to be quiet. "What was that? What do you mean date?"

"Exactly that, Youngie." You sighed, your voice sounding as if it lacked any confidence.

"But you like Seonghwa... You love him."

"... I do." The others in the room looked at each other in shock, their eyes wide.

"Then why did you agree to the date, (Y/N)?"

There was a moment of tense silence before you spoke again, starting your sentence off with a sniffle.

"Because I can't logically believe he likes me the same way. He just see's me as a friend and I just feel so inadequate to be on any level with him." You faltered. "I don't have any particular feelings for Charlie but I... I just wanted to try to get over loving Hwa."

"(Y/N)..."

"I need to get going Woo. I'll... message you tomorrow." Before he could say anything more you hung up.

The room was just as tense as before. No one knew what to say. Wooyoung pressed his lips tightly together as he kept his own tears at bay. When they heard the door open everyone else started getting up and getting ready to start recording. Seonghwa looked to have calmed down. Wooyoung refused to look at his oldest hyung until he could calm down.

---

After the video call with Ateez and the call with Wooyoung, you decided to try to to push any negative thought aside and finish getting ready. You put together a outfit that wasn't too fancy but still looked nice. You styled your hair the way you liked most for things like this. Overall, despite the heavy heart, you felt cute. You left your place with an Uber, figuring you may have something alcoholic to drink, with enough time to get to the restaurant on time, sending a message to Seonghwa letting him know you were heading there...

You glanced at the clock on your phone for the umpteenth time. It had been an hour since your uber dropped you off at the restaurant, 50 minutes since you were sat down at a table, and 35 minutes since that sinking feeling in your gut that you had been stood up started kicking in.

You sighed dejectedly as you finished paying for the meal you ordered. You may have been stood up but you weren't going to let that stop you from a nice meal. Luckily your waitress was kind and nobody paid you much mind. You felt that any pity sent your way would make you feel worse.

You slowly walked outside the restaurant, your phone out as you get ready to order another uber, when you heard loud cackling. Your head turned to the left and just a few cars down in the parking lot was Charlie in a car full of people. They were all laughing and looking at you.

It felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over you.

Ignoring them and the button to confirm the uber, you started walking in the direction of your apartment. You needed to get away. You could feel your chest tightening with humiliation and panic.

"Oh come on, (Y/N). It was a joke!" You heard Charlie yell but you just kept walking. You heard the car roar with life and could hear from their rolled down window various jokes directed at you.

They all cackled and decided that was enough teasing. Charlie then nearly squealed his tires as he drove away. The tears you kept at bay finally spilled over. You hiccupped as you glanced down at your phone. It was 8pm for you, which meant it would be around noon for him.

You didn't think, really. You just knew you needed to hear his low toned, comforting voice. You opened your phone and immediately dialed Seonghwa, pressing your cell to your ear as you walked back to your place. You felt pathetic but you knew you needed to speak to someone or else you would be a sobbing mess if you were left to stew.

---

It was lunch time in the canteen area at KQ when Seonghwa heard his phone ring. His brows furrowed when he saw your name on the screen. He finished his last bite and quickly wiped off any possible crumbs on his hands with a napkin.

"Didn't she leave for her date like an hour ago?" Mingi tilted his head, everyone else had a confused look.

Seonghwa pressed the green answer button and raised his phone to his ear.

"(Y/N)?" His voice with smooth and low. "You're calling me so soon-"

"Seonghwa..." He heard your voice trembling, making him freeze. His face must of gave away to the others something was wrong, as they stared at him intently.

"Hold on, (Y/N). Let me go somewhere private." He quickly got up fron his seat and wasted no time getting into the hallway where there were less people. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I-I got stood up." You sniffled.

"What?"

"I sat there for an hour looking like a fool. And then... And then I went to leave and I saw him outside in his car with his friends." Seonghwa could feel his blood start to boil with anger. "They laughed at me. They made fun of me." He could hear you take in a shuddering breath.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm walking home..."

"How long until you get back?"

"Maybe... Maybe 10 or 15 more minutes?"

"Stay on the phone with okay? I want to make sure you get home safe." He needed to take deep breaths to stay calm. In the corner of his eye he saw the others leave the canteen, though they stayed back, giving him and you some privacy.

"I just don't get what I did wrong to-"

"You did nothing wrong, (Y/N). Don't start blaming yourself for some asshole's behavior." He glanced to his friends, feel a pinch of confidence. "You are a wonderful person. It's his loss."

There was silence for a moment.

"Did I interrupt work?" You asked in a small voice.

"No, I was just finishing lunch. Did you eat?"

"I had something small after I realized he wasn't showing up." Hwa felt some relief when he heard your voice getting steady. "I'll probably have some ice cream when I get home."

"It better not be mint chocolate chip." He joked and smiled when he heard you giggle. "You really did look amazing, by the way. You should send me and the group chat any selfies if you took any. I'm sure the others would like to see the full look."

"Really?" Your voice was meek.

"I would never lie to you... You truly look beautiful. You always do."

"Thank you, Hwa. I really needed to hear that, especially from you." He could hear your voice tremble again.

"Don't start crying because of me, jagiya." He gently teased, the petname slipping out seamlessly.

"Where are the others?"

"They are watching me down the hallway I'm in." He looked over and saw that they were still there. Wooyoung, San, and Jongho kept their eyes on him while the others were looking at their phones, occasionally looking back at the eldest.

"Am I keeping-"

"I want to be talking with you. They can all wait." Seonghwa huffed, which pulled a giggle from you. He was glad he was able to get you to cheer up, even if it was a miniscule amount. "They are very concerned for you though."

"You can tell them what happened. Woo will bug me when he can until I tell him."

"He is good at that isn't he?"

"Too good." You snort.

There was another moment of silence before Hwa spoke again.

"How close are you to home?"

"Uh..." You pause. "I'm pretty close. I'm passing the park thats nearby. I'll probably be there in two minutes."

"Good." He hummed. "I'm glad you called me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Besides enjoying the sound of your voice, I am glad you felt comfortable enough during this vulnerable time to reach out to me. It warms my heart."

"I'm glad you answered."

"For you? Always. Well, unless I am on stage or Joong is lecturing us." He couldn't help but beam when he got you to laugh again.

"I see my apartment. I'm walking up to the door now." Hwa heard your keys jingle in your hand. "I'll let you go now. Thank you for everything, Hwa."

"It wasn't a problem at all. I'll check in on you when I have the time okay?"

"You don't have to." He faintly heard you unlocking the door and then heard the door close.

"I want to." He smiled. "Get comfortable, have that ice cream, and smile for me okay, (Y/N)? I'll talk to you soon. Have a goodnight in case you fall asleep."

"Have a good rest of your day, Hwa." There was a lingering pause before you ended the call.

Seonghwa let out a deep sigh, his face dropping into a scowl as he pocketed his phone. The rest of Ateez took that as a sign to approach him. They nearly froze when they saw the angry look on his face.

"I'm going to need one of you to stop me from buying plane tickets right now." Hwa muttered.

"What happened?"

"Why are you so upset?"

"Is (Y/N) okay?"

Were questions all asked at the same time.

"Let's get back to the recording studio first." Hongjoong offered. It took a lot of restraint for them to not run down the hallways.

The second that door closed to the studio, everyone turned to look at Seonghwa, who still looked pissed off. He sat down on the couch staring past the glass that viewed the recording booth. He needed to take a moment to calm himself down.

"Did something happen to our dear (Y/N)?" Wooyoung sat next to the older male, looking at him with desperate eyes.

"She called me crying, saying her date stood her up." Seonghwa finally spoke. Everyone let out shocked noises and some curses. "That's not even the worst of it. She said he and his friends were waiting for her to come outside to make fun of her."

Wooyoung pulled out his cellphone. "I'm buying you and I plane tickets."

"Count me in, I want to beat that guys ass for making her upset." San sat on the other side of Seonghwa.

Hongjoong quickly snatched Wooyoung's phone.

"Hey-!"

"You won't be making a spontaneous trip to her place and you all are definitely not going off to fight this guy." He said, using his captain voice.

"Come on, hyung. It'll be worth it." Jongho tried bargaining but quickly stopped at the look he got from their leader.

"Seonghwa." Seonghwa's attention was on Hongjoong's face after he called his name. "You already did most of your recording today. Unless you want to hang out with those who still need to record and need to re-record, or do some choreography practice with Yuhno, you should head back to the dorm and spend some time with (Y/N)."

"Thank you, Joong." Seonghwa smiled and gathered his belongings.

"We want to spend time with her too." Wooyoung whined.

"Too bad. You're assisting Yuhno after you re-record your lines." The eldest male smiled at his friends playful banter as he left the room.

He quickly fished out his cell and called you as he walked down the hallway. He was heading to his managers office to get home. He wasn't entirely sure if he had the confidence to confess right now, nor did he want to spring on a confession to you after the night you had... but he wanted to let you know he would be there for you. That he would never let you feel less than or alone. That stupid guy lost his chance and Hwa wanted to be the one treasure you. He was going to confess and tonight would be the start to his plan to do so.

"Seonghwa?" Your voice sounded confused when you quickly answered.

"Hongjoong is giving me the rest of the day off. Do you want to watch a movie with me? Or we can play Animal Crossing? Whatever you want, I want to do it with you." He took in a deep breath. "I'll even pick up mint chocolate chip ice cream and we can eat it together."

You laughed. "Sure, I would love that."

There was a pause in the conversation. Seonghwa was now waiting in front of the manager's office.

"I have a question for you, (Y/N)." He wanted to wait for later to ask his question but Seonghwa felt he had the confidence to ask now.

"What is it?"

"You said you took time off work for your spring break next month, right?"

"Yes, I have the Friday before that week off to Monday after it. Why do you ask?"

"Come visit me." He was shocked he got it out.

"What?"

"Come to Korea and visit me. I'll help pay for the flight and you can stay with us at the dorm. Is the issue with your passport?"

"My passport is fine." You sighed and took a moment before speaking again. "Are you sure, Hwa? Are the others okay with that? What about-"

"Everything will be fine. The others, our manager, and I have already discussed this in length and will probably want to discuss with you later."

"Well..." You didn't speak, which had Seonghwa feeling rejection would soon follow. "I would love to."

"...Is this a yes?"

"Yes it is." You chuckled. "I've been actually thinking of planning a visit after I graduate in May, but honestly, the sooner the better."

"Make sure to message the others about this, they'll be so happy." He smiled, unable to hide his excitement. "I am about to leave the office here soon. I will call you when I am back at the dorm."

"Get back safely."

"Of course. I will talk to you soon."

"And- Fuck!" You swore loudly.

"Is something wrong?" Worry seeped into his veins at how your voice sounded.

"I got stung by scorpion while island hopping."

Taglist: @stopeatread@hee0soo@pocketjoong-reads@seonghwaddict@tridkeys

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ms--lobotomy · 1 month

Text

I heard some of you were looking for Kyle. Who am I if not a provider?

Summary: Abbadon wants a companion for the night.

Word Count: 1461

Content Warnings: General 40kness, smut, once my Catholic guilt arc is over it’s over for all of you

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You looked out of the window of your cell. It was the one comfort you had here, and the view was almost beautiful. Silent columns of lightning stretched out between magenta clouds, churning away faster than they ever could on any planet. Iron bars marred the view somewhat, but you had to take what you could get in this strange land. The rest of your cell was pitifully dreary, with a curtain closing off what resembled a restroom and a slab of… something that resembled a bed. You chose not to look at those parts. At least, not now.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and loud, announcing the presence of maybe two or three members of the Black Legion. You barely turned your head from the window before they fiddled with the keys to your cell, almost ripping the bars off of each other. You recognized one’s speech in Low Gothic, but it took you a few moments to really process it.

“The Despoiler wants a word with you.”

You tensed up. They surely couldn’t mean… No matter. You put one foot in front of the other and joined the three hulking men outside your cell. One of them started to walk off, and another prodded you with his chainsword.

“Move.”

You had no choice but to follow these strange men through the halls of the base. You lost track of where you were early on, going into new and uncharted areas of the base. Granted, you’d only ever seen the prison, so this was not a failing of your navigational skills. You hadn’t time to marvel at the interior despite being confined to your cell for what felt like weeks, you and your captors were walking too fast. You had to slightly jog to keep up with them.

Soon enough, you were upon a large door. You ran your fingers along the intricate woodwork, not having felt varnished wood in ages. Two of those strange men looked down at you as you lowered your hand. Another one turned on his vox machine.

“She’s here,” he said, stepping back from the door. The others did so as well, prompting you to do the same.

After a few moments, the door clicked open. You beheld a man taller than the three around you, the first without a helmet that you’d seen in a long while. He had a long top knot at the top of his head, and his eyes bored into you, unreadable. You immediately looked away, trying not to shake in your poorly put together shoes.

“Leave,” he said as the three behind you turned tail and left, muttering to one another.

He watched them as they left before turning his gaze back to you. “You can come in, you know.”

You looked up at him and slowly walked into the room. It must be his private chambers; it was filled with ornate things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of while in your cell. Your eyes darted from the paintings on the wall to the table and chairs built for someone his size. He walked towards the bed, sitting on it as it slightly gave way underneath him. “Come,” he said, scooting over slightly.

“Why do you bring me here?” you asked, rubbing your upper arm with your hand.

He smirked. “I just wanted a bit of company tonight.” He called your name. It was a bit strange on his lips, but it was the first time someone had referred to you by name instead of number.

Was it night? It was impossibly hard to tell in this space between space. You found yourself walking towards the bed and sitting on it next to him as he took his gauntlets off, then his pauldrons, then the rest of the armor adorning his arms. You couldn’t help but notice rippling muscles as your heart beat quicker in your chest.

“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” you said after a moment.

He chuckled. “If you do not wish to be here, I could grab another.”

“No-“ you interjected before you could stop yourself.

He continued taking off his armor, pulling his breastplate over his head before casting it aside. “Good,” he said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you tensed up yet again.

“I will not hurt you, unless that is something you desire.”

You looked up at him. He was looking down at you with… reverence, almost. You felt your face go warm as he took your chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but you could tell that he was holding back.

He let go and leaned down to take off his lower armor, and you watched intently as pieces fell to the floor, softly clanking against other pieces. He looked down at you and smirked once he was finished. It was then when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing against soft skin. You were taken aback for a minute before you reciprocated. He grabbed your hips and turned the rest of you to face him, your legs resting against his waist.

He brushed the sides of your shirt up, fabric gathering underneath his hands. You let out a soft moan before freezing, and he pulled away.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

You slowly nodded. He went in for a kiss again, this time biting your bottom lip. You squeaked, grasping for his body glove. You felt him chuckle against you, hands moving underneath your shirt up your back. He pulled away again, his hands moving to your thigh.

“Take it off,” he barked.

Without hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head. He looked down at you for a moment, running a hand over your body.

“Good girl,” he said, pressing you down onto the bed before planting his teeth on your collarbone. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it was going to leave a mark. You let out another high-pitched squeak, and he made another mark even lower. When he had his fill, he went down to your breast and took your nipple in his teeth.

“Abbadon…” you moaned as he bit you there. That was also going to leave a mark.

“What is it?” he asked before moving to your other side to do the same thing. You yelped, your fingers pressing into his back as he trailed lower. He was kneeling before you when he made his way between your legs, pulling your shoes and pants off and parting your legs with ease. He began to feast, eliciting soft cries from you. He reached places you thought someone could never reach, and before long, you came hard on him.

He pulled away, fiddling with the zipper on his body glove before taking it all off. You looked at him in awe before he pinned you down again, your fingers interlocking with his. He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he rubbed himself against you and you looked up at him, pleading.

“You will have to beg for it,” he said, grazing himself against you.

“Please…” you murmured. “Please put yourself in me. I want you.”

“More than anything you’ve ever wanted?”

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

He put himself in, and you cried out. “You are taking me so well,” he said as he slid in further. You couldn’t form any cohesive sentences in response, so you let yourself cry out. He slid himself in to the hilt and stayed there for a minute, watching your face scrunch up and listening to your little yelps before he pulled himself out to do it all again. He started to go faster, and you felt your eyes rolling back. Here you were, stark naked, stretched out over him.

You came a second time, much more loudly and violently than the first. Abbadon smirked above you, victorious. His hands moved to your wrists as he kept going, and soon you realized how much stamina was granted to an Astartes. He kept you up long into the night before he started to speed up one last time. You were loud, and he stuck a few fingers in your mouth. He grunted something in his Cthonian tongue before he shot his load into you, once, twice, then a third time.

Liquid leaked out of you as he pulled himself out of you for the last time and shifted you fully onto the bed. He held you close to him. You relaxed into his hold as he ran a hand through your hair.

“You will not have to spend another day rotting in that cell,” he said.

You closed your eyes and sleep soon took hold of you. You slept better than you had in weeks.

@kit-williams

#ezekyle abbadon x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #reader insert #ezekyle abbadon #warhammer lobotomy #hes got a yee yee ass haircut but also nice abs so #I know the khan has the same but he wears it better #also ive noticed my fics are getting progressively longer #im gonna write a novel guys. Brb #mating press march

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callmearcturus · 1 year

Text

==> You have three doors

DOOR ONE: Reading Homestuck using the Unofficial Collection

Pro: Everything is immaculately preserved at the highest quality. Official HS took beautiful animations and turned them into 360p fuzzy horseshit. UHSC has everything in HQ.

Pro: Navigation controls. I set everything to "auto open pesterlogs" and then use arrow keys to go to the next page when I'm done. Very smooth experience.

Pro: You can fucking mod out the worst slurs from early Homestuck, which is a relief.

Pro: It maintains the browser games as well as the incredible formatting tricks of Cascade, A6A6I1 and others.

Pro: It's literally officially endorsed by the creator as The Way to read HS.

Con: Windows and Mac only, not mobile, unfortunately.

Con: No matter how many times I read the explanation for First Time Reader Mode, I'm always still a bit confused.

Con: The Troll quirks.

DOOR TWO: Experiencing Homestuck with Lets Read Homestuck

Pro: The entire comic read to you, with matching visuals, is really a fucking treat and probably the most low effort way to experience it.

Pro: CANNOT OVERSTATE HOW FUCKING GOOD THE ACTING IS SOMETIMES. OFTENTIMES. Duckum's Rose performance is more deserving of oscars than most shit I've seen get awards. Karkat's performance is always a delight but the emotional rollercoaster of Murderstuck? Holy shit. Also I did not like Terezi until LRHS, now I love her.

Pro: Sometimes, Homestuck is hard to read. Making sure you find every secret in every walkaround? Trying to figure out what the trolls are saying through their quirks? Oh my god the fucking SBaHJ interludes? There are parts of the Meenah walkaround I totally missed bc I could not parse the quirks. LRHS makes it a complete and total non-issue.

Con: In my opinion, it takes them a while to find their footing. Act One is just kinda rough. Act Two is better, but things become fantastic pretty much as soon as Duckums takes over as Rose.

Con: It's not complete. LRHS is up to the Trickster Arc deep deep deep in Act 6, so they're nearly there, but the last 15% of the comic, you have to read yourself.

Arc, what the fuck: I have all of LRHS ripped as MP3 so I can listen to it like an audiobook. Lemme know if you want the files.

DOOR THREE: Official Homestuck Website

Pro: It does work on phone and tablet.

Pro: You can pair it with the HQ upload of all HS Flashes and have an okay time.

Con: The walkarounds are removed. The entire game of Jane's land is a fucking YOUTUBE VIDEO. The special effects for Cascade and A6A6I1 and even the stupid horse segments are gone. The entire gravity of the Retcon is removed. They couldn't even fucking preserve Gamzee's dumb potion shop bit. What the absolute fuck.

Con: EVEN THE FUCKING UPLOADS THEY DID LOOK LIKE HORSESHIT. Compare the official intro of Rose's world to a reupload of the original flash. How the FUCK was this allowed?! Who OKAYED this?!

This is garbage. Homestuck is a multimedia experience of prose, text, music, animation, interactive storytelling, and Viz Media fucked it.

The choice is yours. I suggest Door Two, but I'm a podcast person before everything else. Door One is a very very good door once you get going. Door Three is if you HAVE to use mobile. but please, fuck, use the All Flashes video, I'm begging you.

OH BUT WHATEVER OPTION YOU CHOOSE: stop at Act 7 or Credits. Do not read the Epilogues or the post canon stuff.

#homestuck #this is a better version of my other post tbh #whomstve

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starcrossedxwriter · 11 months

Text

Built for Love Part 6 (MBJ x Famous OC)

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of past experience with DV

A/N: I'm really excited about this one because… we are getting some fluff and smut with minimal to no angst lol love that for them! Enjoy!

“So how’s shit with Charlotte going?” Calliet asked, the loud crack of the pool table filling the air as Michael took his first shot.

“You mean, Els, get that shit right nigga,” Stello interjected, snickering lightly as Michael rolled his eyes at him. If there was one thing his friends were always going to do, it was make fun of his romantic side.

Michael let out a low chuckle, choosing to let his best friend’s comment pass him by without a retort. “We’re good. She’s… she’s good.”

“You sure? Cause you don’t seem sure.” His friends immediately picked up on the pause in his words.

“Nah, she is good. Great actually. I’m gonna sound crazy sayin’ this but she’s the one.”

“Nigga, it’s been three months. Relax, my guy.”

Michael shrugged. “When you know, you know. And I know that shit. It’s just…” Michael scratched his head. He had not told his friends about Charlotte’s past yet. He questioned whether it was his place to do so, to share details of her life she did not offer up herself. It seemed that only her family and closest friends knew the truth and he did not want to spread it around. However, he could not deny that he could use a sounding board as he navigated such murky waters. And he was not a man who was afraid to talk with his boys about his problems and be vulnerable. He decided he would just keep it vague, the details were Charlotte’s story to tell. “Things really are good. It’s just this shit from her past that comes up occasionally. Her ex was abusive.”

“Oh shit. For real?”

“Fuck.”

“He hit her?”

Michael shook his head. “Yea. The couple things she told me were fuckin’ insane. And I don’t think I’ve heard the worst of it. If I ever see that nigga…” He let out a deep exhale as he clenched his fists. Michael was far from a violent person, he could not even tell you the last time he even had a desire to get into a fight with anyone. Everyone in his orbit, including himself, would describe him as the calming force in a room, he always had the ability to keep his emotions in check. However, if he thought too long or too hard about Shaun Parker, all he could feel was rage. And the only action he could think of was ripping him limb from limb.

“Damn, that’s tough. How is she doin’?”

“Most of the time, she’s great. She’s herself. You know she’s shy and reserved in front of other people but once she’s comfortable, she’s so energetic and fun to be around. She’s charming but still has that cute awkward shit goin’ on that keeps her real and honest, fuckin’ hilarious. But the rest… I’ll say or do somethin’ that triggers her and she seems terrified of me but doesn’t know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like it’s not a conscious thing but I can feel it wafting off of her sometimes. The first time, she broke a wine glass at my place by accident, got red wine on the rug. She’s clumsy as fuck. But I don’t care. It’s actually kinda cute. And shit happens. It’s just a fuckin’ rug. By the time she came over again, I had a new one already. She looked like she had seen a ghost, pale and freaked out. She apologized a hundred times. Her hands were shakin’ so hard, she couldn’t even pick up the glass. A couple weeks ago, she forgot we made dinner plans, same thing. And it wasn’t a big deal at all. I actually preferred it cause I was tired as hell. We ordered in and just talked. But I could feel her whole body tense like she was waiting for me to lash out at her. We were out last week, she was chatting with the waiter while I took a call. She was like an entirely different person when I got back to the table. And I wasn’t thinkin’ twice about who the fuck she talked to. But in her mind, she committed a crime or some shit.”

“That shit’s heavy,” Calliet offered as he rounded the pool table for his shot. “Seems like small shit to us but to her, it means a whole other thing. How you dealing’ with it? I know that shit bothers you.”

Michael scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. “Of course it fuckin’ bothers me. To have the woman I love seem terrified of me, terrified I would even consider hurting her like that? Shit is frustrating. But I dunno. I did all this research on how to be supportive and been slowly tryin’ to add that in. But I dunno. Just worried it isn’t enough.”

“Want my two cents?” Steelo offered. Michael was usually weary of taking relationship advice from his best friend. Steelo’s longest committed relationship amounted to months. But he also never pretended he wanted anything else, he was more than happy living the single bachelor life. Michael decided to just hear him out. If it was bad, which it was likely to be, he would just ignore it.

“Hit me.”

“I know I was anti-Charlotte after everything went down in Philly but this the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I think you gotta just keep showing up and maybe, actually talk to her? Research is great, google is your best friend. And you can do all that. But you also gotta know what she needs and the only person who can tell you that is her. Ask her, give her time to figure out what she needs from you, and then do those things in addition to the other shit. And I know it sounds crazy but maybe she also just has to hear you say that shit. You know… assurances and all that… women love that shit.”

Michael glanced at Calliet who merely shrugged. “Hey, I agree with him. Broken clock is right twice a day.”

The men laughed a bit at Michael’s friend’s expense before the only married man in the group added, “Nah but forreal. The kid is right. Talk to her. Ask her how you can make her more comfortable and go from there.”

“That might be the first solid dating advice you’ve given me.”

“Check back in another decade, I might have more.”

***

“Dinner was delicious, babe. You know when you said you could cook, I definitely thought you were lying.”

Michael chuckled. “My momma taught me a thing or two. Said she wasn’t raisin’ niggas who couldn’t throw down in the kitchen.”

She nodded. “Well, shout out to your mom. The women of the world, particularly this one,” she pointed at herself. “Thank her.”

He brought her a plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it, his favorite. He smiled as she did a little happy dance in her seat. His girl most certainly had a sweet tooth.

“Don’t tell me you made this too? Cause then I might have to marry you,” she joked.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” he winked at her and smirked, causing her to roll her eyes. “But nah, my sister would kill me if I took credit for that. She’s the baker. I’m hopeless with desserts. It’s my favorite thing of hers. ”

“Then we are a perfect pair. You can cook and I’ll make dessert.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he kissed the top of her head before settling back in his seat.

He watched her eat for a few minutes, enjoying her facial expressions and small but distinct sounds of delight with every bite. She was clearly in heaven. But tonight had not just been about showing his girl a fun time and cooking for her, it was also about broaching a difficult conversation and putting his friends’ advice into action.

“Hey, Els.”

“What’s up?”

He held out his hand for hers, his thumb going to rub the inside of her wrist. He started doing it more often after their dinner date fiasco, realizing that she seemed to respond well to it. It was a small and gentle touch, but every time he did, her body visibly relaxed and seemed more at ease instinctually.

“What do you need from me to feel more comfortable and safe?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow in confusion, her spoon gently clattering against the slide of her plate as she sat it down. “What prompted that question, Mr. Jordan?”

“Well, I just know this is your first relationship since everything. There are triggers and shit that are gonna come up. And that’s ok, I know it all takes time. I just… I want to assure you that I ain’t him. And I would never hurt you. And whatever you need me to do to help you believe that and feel you know, more at ease, I’ll do it.”

Charlotte’s heart melted for a moment before her own guilt set in. She tried not to think much about her triggers. They happened far too often. And each time, she would curse herself for it, profusely remind herself that Michael was not her ex, and swear to herself that it wouldn’t happen again. However, it always did and it felt like by the time she saw it coming, it was too late to stop it. However, what she never wanted to do was make him believe she thought he was like Shaun. She knew that was not the case in her heart, mind, and soul. However, she knew, as the famous book and her therapist constantly reminded her, the body kept a different score, kept a laundry list of every beating, every humiliating and degrading moment. She may have pushed the memories out of her mind but every single one was still etched in her bones. And she could not force that out of herself, it would only take time.

She clenched her eyes shut for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry, Bakari. I-I never want you to feel like I think you’d hurt me or something. I know… I know that isn’t you.”

He shook his head. “Hey. Don’t apologize. I didn’t bring it up to blame you. Your past is part of you and I know it ain’t shit you can just turn on and off when it’s convenient. That’s why I want to know how I can help?”

Charlotte stood up, abandoning her cake to join him across the table, sitting on his lap. Her hand settled against his cheek, her fingers playing with his coarse facial hair.

“There is nothing you need to change, Michael. A-and I’m not just saying that. You’re everything I could hope for. And you treat me better than I could’ve dreamed for myself. I guess…” She paused. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be trying to be in a relationship again. I’m not afraid of you. But when you live in constant fear for so long, it sort of becomes part of you. It guided every decision, every choice, every action… every second of every day. And I think, sometimes, even though I know in my soul you aren’t him, that fear is still there in my bones. And when it hits, I don’t even realize it until it feels like I’m drowning in it. A-and I’m sorry for that because I know it’s not fair to you. I’m trying really, I promise.” She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, afraid of where this conversation might actually be headed. “B-But if it’s too much for you, I u-understand. I c-can’t expect you to stick around forever while I figure o-out my -”

“Love, stop. Breathe. That’s not what this is at all. I’m here until you get sick of me, baby girl.” He peppered her face with pecks causing her to laugh. “And don’t apologize to me cause I don’t need it or want it. I just want you to be ok and happy with me, not worried when some other shoe is gonna drop. If there’s nothing, great. But if there is, I just want to know it. We don’t gotta discuss it tonight. I have a whole surprise waiting for you downstairs. Ain’t tryin’ ruin it. But just promise me, if you ever feel like you do need something from me to feel safer o-or I’m doing something that makes you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll tell me.”

She pressed her lips to his. She appreciated that he was not shying away from her reality, that he was jumping in to address the hard things. She would not have blamed him if he wanted to end things but he was still here, still loving her and wanting to work through the kinks of their relationship. If he was willing to have hard conversations, she had to be willing too. She could not just will all of this away, she had to actively work on it.

“I promise.”

“Aight, good. Now we got the hard stuff outta the way, wanna follow me to the basement?”

“Are you gonna tell me what the surprise is? I thought you cooking for me and the food not killing me was the surprise?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. And nah, I’m beginning to think you really don’t know what surprise means.”

“I know what it means, I just like to be in the know.”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

“Bakari…” she whined.

“Just do it, Els. Damn, you never listen to a nigga,” he mumbled.

She winked at him before acquiescing to his wishes and closing her eyes.

One hand held onto hers while his free hand settled on her hip as he led her downstairs and around a corner to his movie room.

“Ok, open.”

She opened her eyes to find the room completely different from the last time she came down there. Giant cozy pillows and blankets draped like a tent covered the floor, a whole set up of popcorn and other snacks and two cocktail glasses waiting for them.

“I know you’re kind of a homebody so a more creative spin on dinner and a movie?” He offered with a shrug.

“You did all this??”

“Yea, I remember you mentioned once on set that you and your siblings used to have movie nights and make forts in your basement.”

She giggled as he led her to the perfectly constructed tent in his basement. He essentially turned his downstairs into a campground, with soft lightening and cushy blankets and pillows littering the floor around his flat screen tv.

“This is far better than any fort we made.”

It clearly had taken him and perhaps a team of people time to set it all up. It was beautiful. She leaned over and picked up a pack of gummy bears, her favorite. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing is ever too much for you. Besides, press tour is in what, two weeks? We’re gonna be busy so we gotta enjoy the time together while we can.”

Michael went to the bar to pull out a pitcher of mojitos before he got situated in their fort next to her.

“Not gonna lie. I’m kinda looking forward to it. It’ll be my first real press tour.”

“I’m about to be all your work firsts, then?”

Charlotte nodded as she took a sip of the cocktail Michael made for her.

“Yea and some personal ones, I’m sure,” she muttered under her breath, thinking back to the conversation with her friends.

“What’s that mean?”

She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. “Nothing, nothing at all.” She turned the gummy bears toward him, allowing him to take a handful before she snuggled into his side.

The pair snuggled and joked as they watched Bad Boys, a movie that made it onto both of their top five movies lists. Their banter carried them through most of the film, the pair analyzing and offering their two cents as if they were experts on thwarting criminals. The pair made their way through an obscene amount of snacks and a pitcher of mojitos as they watched the first movie and its sequel.

“Those drinks were so good,” she muttered as she examined the now-empty pitcher, a small pout on her features. “If this whole acting thing doesn’t work out, you could be a bartender for sure.”

Michael laughed and rubbed her thigh. “You wanna just crash here? You shouldn’t drive home after all that. And it’s already late as hell,” he remarked, glancing at his watch to find it was almost 1 am.

She shrugged and winked at him. “Jokes on you… that was alllllll part of the plan. Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

“Damn, you just usin’ a nigga for a comfortable bed??”

“Not just the bed… Comfortable bed, free meals, cuddly oversized sweatshirts,” she listed on her fingers with a sly smile.

“You know I’m good for other things too,” he whispered with a smirk on his face, his fingers drawing featherlike patterns on her exposed thigh that sent chills down her spine. She knew exactly what he was suggesting and she did not know if it was the liquor or just the overall effect he had on her body, but she wanted to know what those things were. She wanted more. More of him, more of his touch, more of his love. And she did not want to wait a single moment longer.

And she did not want the night to end, their last true moment of solitude before life picked up again. They would be traveling and exhausted for a month. Though she was excited to spend her first press run with him, she knew it would not be true alone time. It would be work and since they were not a public couple yet, they would have to exercise some discretion.

She threw caution to the wind and straddled his hips, ignoring his surprised look as she took charge of the moment. She kissed him before nibbling on his ear and whispering, “Why don’t you show me?”

Usually, those words would have had Michael ripping a woman’s clothes off within milliseconds. However, despite the lust coursing through him, he forced himself to pause and confirm her wishes. Once he knew Charlotte wanted to take it slow, he always made sure to pump the brakes before things got too hot and heavy between them. No matter how hard it was - and it was excruciatingly hard - it was one of his many attempts to show Charlotte that he understood and respected her boundaries and subtly remind her she had agency in their relationship. He never wanted her to feel pressured to do something she did not want to do because she was conditioned never to say no. He wanted her to know she was steering the ship and he was fine with whatever speed she chose.

Admittedly, this was the longest he ever waited for a woman to sleep with him. They were well into month three and had not progressed past heated make out sessions. However, Michael, honestly, did not mind. He longed to bury himself inside her, to taste her, to show her pleasure she had never known before. But he knew it would be more enjoyable for both of them if she was truly ready for it.

Michael’s eyes grew wide with surprise as her statement settled in his brain matter. He leaned back over her, his soft hand cupped her cheek and held her eyes to his.

“You sure? We don’t gotta do anything you aren’t ready for, Els. And we been drinkin’ and shit. I’ll wait as long as you want, love.”

Charlotte offered him a soft smile. “I know. And it’s very sweet and it makes me love you even more if that’s even fucking possible,” she let out a nervous laugh. “I trust you a-and I want you. That’s all I need. So I am very ready for you to break my back like you promised.”

Michael chuckled and kissed her on the neck softly.

“You sure?”

Charlotte knew she would not find the words to describe how desperately she needed him. It was no longer a want that could be diminished by her anxieties and fears, it was a need. A need that felt as fundamental to her survival as oxygen to her lungs and sustenance to her body. His willingness to take it slow and respect her boundaries, the ways he went out of his way to make her feel safe and desired daily only increased her lust. So she decided to show him through action.

“Yes…” she reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her shoulders, thankful she decided to wear a matching bra and panty set. She had no intention, originally, of their date night taking this specific turn but she was grateful nonetheless. She felt empowered and assured in her decision as she watched his reaction, pure lust and desire taking over his features.

He licked his lips before he captured hers again. She moaned as his hands enjoyed free reign of her body, softly kneading and gripping her ass and thighs. She could feel the desire pooling between her legs, the movie playing on the tv long forgotten. She did not stop him as he flipped her onto her back, his chest pressed against hers as he sucked on the soft skin of her neck.

Michael took his time as he kissed her, paying close attention to every moan and groan, his ears perking up when he hit a sweet spot. He wanted to know every intricacy of what she liked and just how she liked it. His path of kisses and gentle nips down her body was deliberate and slow, he savored how her whimpers became needier as he went. But he did not speed up. He was determined, desired to see her come undone piece by piece, and that was a process he could not rush.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his lips lingered against one of her scars, knowing they made her insecure about her appearance.

By the time he reached her lower stomach, her whimpers had turned to pants of need. Charlotte had never experienced foreplay like this before. She did not understand how he was already so attentive, the way he seemed to immediately respond to her body, picking up on cues Charlotte would not have been able to articulate herself. If her body was an instrument, Michael seemed to already be a savant, hitting the right notes with every caress and touch. It was a slow march and Charlotte was feigning for the main event, feigning for him to fill her.

Michael finally detached his lips from her body and made quick work of removing her thong.

“All this for me?” He whispered as he licked his lips as he admired the wetness between her thighs.

He spread her legs and licked his lips before kissing her inner thighs. Charlotte almost saw God when he added in a gentle bite, sending sparks of pleasure through her. With every passing second, his lips got closer and closer to the treasure between her thighs, a coveted meal Michael had been waiting months to taste.

However, realizing his intention, Charlotte immediately felt the first wave of anxiety and insecurity hit her, pulling her out of the moment and mind-numbing fog of pleasure.

“W-what are you doing?” She breathed out, stopping his path toward her core.

“About to get a taste,” he muttered as he continued kissing her inner thighs.

Charlotte squirmed for a moment before quietly offering. “Y-You don’t have to do that… if you don’t want to.”

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. There was literally nothing he wanted more in this world at this moment. “I definitely want to. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just never…” She scratched her forehead and kept her eyes trained on the ceiling. It was embarrassing and she did not really want to say it out loud. Similar to her lack of an orgasm, she had also never revealed to anyone that her sexual experience was severely lacking in terms of receiving pleasure. Giving? She was good at it and enjoyed it occasionally. But she had always been the giver and now could not even fathom what receiving felt like. She knew, based on conversations with her girlfriends, that she was missing something spectacular and life changing. But the mental block was there and she found it hard to want it. “Never mind, it’s embarrassing.”

Michael chuckled. “Aint shit to be embarrassed about with me, baby.” He kissed her softly on the lips.

“No one’s ever given me…”

Her words died in her throat but Michael did not need her to finish the sentence. He knew exactly what she was trying to say and shocked was an understatement. He had jerked himself off more times than he would ever admit dreaming of her paradise, what she tasted like, and what sounds she would make when he finally found himself in that promised land. And to think that no one had ever taken the time or care to give her that pleasure angered him more than it should have. He supposed he should be happy he was the first one to give her that experience but he hated that her sex life prior to him had been so lacking.

“You trust me?”

She nodded immediately. “Of course.”

“Ok, then just lay back and relax for me, aight? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. But I don’t think you’re gonna want me to stop.” He offered her a knowing wink.

Michael was not a man who begrudgingly engaged in foreplay simply because it was required. The build up was his favorite part of the experience, knowing he was giving his partner exactly what they needed and wanted, worshiping her body like the queen she was. He would bask in every moment of proving to her that he wanted to do this task more than anything else.

“Always so cocky,” she muttered with a smile.

“And you love that shit,” he shot back as they traded playful jabs. “Now relax… and let me take care of you.”

Michael’s hands pushed open Charlotte’s legs, her pussy glistening with need.

Not wanting to waste another second, he leaned in and enveloped her clit into his mouth, sucking gently.

Charlotte let out a deep moan, a moan so visceral and carnal, she did not even know she could produce such a sound. But she didn't even know her body could feel pleasure like this and he was only just getting started.

It seemed Michael was right about one thing, she most certainly did not want him to stop.

Michael poured his whole soul into his ministrations, pulling out every trick he knew to send Charlotte over the edge. He licked and sucked, spelling out all his love and adoration with every caress of his tongue. He savored every moan and groan, every plea for him to go faster.

“Fuck… B-Bakari… p-please don’t stop.”

Unnecessary directions, in his opinion, he could do this all night.

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut as she grabbed one of the plush pillows on the floor and moaned into it, suddenly remembering that Michael’s parents lived with him.

“Put the pillow down,” he emerged from her legs to demand. “Room’s soundproof, I promise. I wanna hear you.”

She immediately tossed it to the side as she rode the waves of pure passion and ecstasy his mouth provided. She was not sure where to concentrate as every pleasure sensor in her body felt like it was on fire. She was overwhelmed and yet, she wanted more. She wanted to drown in it, drown in this feeling that seemed to never end. Every time, she felt as if she must be reaching its peak, he pushed her higher and higher.

His eyes never left her face as he devoured what would now be classified as his favorite meal. The moment she came, he wanted to see it. Every sound she made only spurred him on as he inched her closer and closer to her mountain top.

Charlotte felt her world go dark, everything in her snapped as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She felt as if she was in fog, Michael’s voice distant and quiet as she experienced her first orgasm. She felt as if he had just altered the course of her life at that moment. She wondered if this was what rebirth felt like and how she had ever lived without this unfiltered… bliss. She let out a stream of curse words as she rode out her orgasm, Michael offering her praise that she could barely register.

“That’s it, Els. Cum for me.”

He emerged from between her legs and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself.

“You taste so good, baby. So sweet,” he offered as he gave her a few moments to settle down. .

“T-that was…” She struggled to find the words as her already slightly hoarse voice filled the space.

“You liked that, baby?” He asked, his deep voice sending jolts of pleasure down her body. His finger entered her, immediately curling into her g-spot causing her to gasp.

This man… was going to be the death of her, she decided.

“Y-Yes,” she whispered.

“You want more, Els?”

She nodded fervently. Michael pushed himself off the floor and quickly stripped down, his manhood standing at attention for the woman he loved.

Her breath hitched slightly as she took in his length and girth. He settled himself between her legs before starting to push inside her.

She let out a groan of pain that made him pause, his eyes immediately filling with concern. He started to pull out when she wrapped her legs around his hips to stop him.

“N-No, don’t. I-it’s just been a couple years. That’s all. I’m good, promise.”

His forehead fell against hers as he slowly pushed inside her. His eyes did not leave hers, pausing his movements every time he saw an iota of discomfort or pain on her face. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, professed his love and adoration for her, told her how good she felt around him as he waited for her to adjust.

And once she gave him the ok, he started his slow and steady strokes into her.

“You feel so fucking good, baby” he muttered as the soft slapping sounds of their hips meeting filled his basement.

His dick curved right into her g-spot, forcing words of adoration and love from the depths of her soul at the end of every stroke. Her soft pants morphed into moans and screams of pleasure as she felt jolts of pleasure throughout her body.

“F-fuck, I l-love you,” she panted out. “Harder,” she demanded, Michel more than happy to oblige.

He increased his pace, relentlessly fucking her. She was thankful this portion of the house was soundproof, his basement soaking up the loud symphony of their collective moans. .

She could feel all of the love and adoration he held for her in every stroke, every affirmation he whispered into her ear as he sent her soul to another plane. All she could do was pant and cry out in pleasure as he promised to love her until his last day.

Michael’s physical fitness and stamina meant that they were just getting started. Michael and Charlotte moved around his basement, fucking on any and all surfaces that they saw fit. He transitioned between positions like an experienced dancer and pulled countless orgasms from the depth of her soul.

“Fuck. Just like that baby. Ride this dick,” he moaned. He let out a low growl as she rode him, he was in heaven as he buried his face in her chest, his mouth enveloping her nipple. He was surprised at how much she responded to it, her head falling back in pleasure, her mouth agape. She cried out in pleasure as he gently bit down on the swell of her breasts. He switched between the two, making sure to give each equal attention.

“You look so sexy riding my dick,” he praised her, causing her to increase her pace.

She ignored the burn in her thighs as she continued, her thoughts only focused on giving him the same pleasure he gave her. She loved this position. It made her feel emboldened and in charge. And so she decided to enjoy that feeling and switch it up, giving him another view to enjoy. She slid off of him, both of them groaning lightly at the feeling of emptiness while she repositioned herself in reverse cow girl and slid back onto his dick.

Michael smirked at the satisfied moan that escaped her lips as he filled her again. He grabbed her hips, thrusting into her rapidly as he enjoyed the view of her ass bouncing against his hips. He had let her control the pace before but now? It was his turn again. She yelped lightly as his hand spanked her. It was unexpected but not too rough, clearly to test the waters. She moaned, letting him know that she enjoyed it, the edge of roughness and small jolts of pain mixed in with his gentle touches.

“You like that, baby?” He asked as he spanked her again, his strong arms lifting her body up and down as if she weighed nothing.

“Y-Yes! I love it,” She panted out, breathless and exhausted as he fucked her. “I’m g-gonna cum!”

Her hands pressed against his stomach to hold herself up as she rode the length of her orgasm, her body barely staying up right. When she calmed down, he lifted her off of him and instructed her to get on all fours.

He positioned himself behind her and massaged her ass for a moment, admiring the perfect view.

“Arch your back for me, baby. That’s it, good girl.”

Charlotte could’ve cum right then, hearing him praise her.

Good girl, she wanted to hear that every day for the rest of her life.

She groaned as he entered her again, this position allowing him to get even deeper than before. Charlotte’s screams grew to new heights as he fucked her senseless from behind, taking her directive to break her back extremely serious. She was thankful that the strength of his thrusts naturally buried her face in the pillows of their now destroyed fort; she did not think even a soundproof room could contain her at this point.

In this moment, she realized exactly what Jazz meant: this was life-changing and fun. For the first time, she was not waiting for it to all be over, she was enjoying it, actively meeting his thrusts to increase her pleasure. And when his fingers dug into her hips to hammer into her at his own pace, like a man possessed, she was more than willing to surrender her entire being to him and let him give her exactly what he believed she needed. Because he actually knew, every action was meticulous and measured, attuned to needs she did not even know she had. But he did and she loved him for it. So she surrendered, surrendered to bliss, knew she would forever happily hand over the reins of her pleasure to him because she desperately wanted what he had to give.

“Why you running, baby?” He asked as he fucked her, her body instinctively shying away from the intense pleasure of another orgasm building too fast.

“I-I… I-it’s too much…” she breathed out, unable to form coherent sentences.

“You want me to stop?” He asked as he continued fucking relentlessly.

“N-no,” she whimpered, and it was true. Her body felt as if it may die if he stopped but also that another orgasm might kill her. In a split second decision, dying from pleasure seemed like the better way to go.

“Good girl. You’re taking me so well, love. Cum for me one more time, baby.”

As he felt her pussy snapping around his dick and her screams grew louder, he knew she was close. He reached around and rubbed her clit to give her the extra push she needed.

Charlotte let out a breathless scream, her vision going black as the most powerful orgasm of her life ran through her. She didn't even get to feel him cum inside her as he finally reached his own peak.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Michael was sitting watching her intently.

“Welcome back, almost had me worried for a minute. You ok?”

All she could do was nod, not understanding how he looked completely unruffled while she felt as if she had done a triathlon.

He held out his hand to help her up and slide his robe around her. She was surprised to find him already in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

“H-How long was I out?”

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Just a couple minutes. Come on, I’ll start a bath upstairs.”

She groaned as she tried to move her legs. “M-My legs don’t work, babe. N-Not gonna make it upstairs.”

He laughed and swooped her up into his arms. “Good thing you have me then.”

Charlotte snuggled into his chest as he carried her to his suite. He made quick work of filling the tub with hot water and helping her into the tub, the smell of eucalyptus, her favorite, filling her nose.

“This is sweet,” she said, her voice raspy from their activities. “T-thank you.” She settled into the bathtub, her head lulling back as her eyes fell closed. The warm water felt like heaven on her aching muscles.

“You feel ok? Was afraid I was too rough at the end?”

She let her head fall lazily in his direction, a content smile on her face. “No, it was great. Though I think you might've thought I was a gymnast at one point, really pushed the limits of my flexibility. And I now feel like I need to go to yoga classes so I don’t need to soak my muscles every time we have sex,” she laughed. “But it was perfect. You’re perfect.”

They shared a sweet kiss before silence fell over them. Charlotte did not stay in the tub long, her desire to be in Michael’s arms again overwhelming. Once she was done, Michael gave her clothes to throw on and they climbed into bed.

Michael’s head rested on her chest, both of them muttering soft I love you’s before they drifted off to sleep.

***

“Charlie!”

Charlotte's eyes gravitated toward a familiar voice, finally landing on Chris who had commandeered a corner booth toward the back and was waving at her.

“How are you??” Her voice took on a sing-songy tone as she hugged him before sitting across from him. “It’s been way too fucking long.”

“I know, I know. It’s tough. I’m rarely out here and you’re never in NYC anymore.” His voice was filled with teasing accusations as he referenced her disappearing act. “But I’m glad you were able to fit me in.”

The pair spent over a half hour catching up, Chris sharing gossip from the NYC theater scene that Charlotte was no longer in touch with. She considered Chris MacDonald to be one of her closest friends. He had been her mentor when she was at a school, he was a recent graduate working on his musical and worked with students in his free time. He was easily the most talented songwriter she had ever heard, his first musical becoming a staple on Broadway within months. Every song he touched turned to gold and money. They transcended the usual mentor-mentee relationship quickly, becoming good friends. Chris always vowed to make her his leading lady in one of his shows one day.

“So what are the next few months looking like for you?”

“We’re starting press for Creed out here next week. Then the premieres here and press and a premiere in Philly. We have a couple of events and things once it hits theaters and then I should get a break right before Christmas. Thankfully, since it is the first one, the press schedule isn’t insane. But it's still a lot.”

“So I gotta know, do you miss the stage at all?”

“All the time,” Charlotte moaned, her shoulders collapsing a bit. Chris was the type of person who knew the answer to his question before he asked it. So she knew there was no use in lying. “All. The. Time.” She emphasized. “Movies are great, don’t get me wrong. Can’t say anything too bad about them, after all, my first major film led me to Michael. Who you have to meet by the way. But it’s just not the same. It doesn’t… make my soul happy the way theater did? Money’s better,” Chris immediately nodded in agreement. “But that’s about it. Just doesn’t really fulfill me the same way.”

“Would you want to go back?”

An antenna in Charlotte’s mind went up as she heard his tone, his voice taking on the tenor of someone who was dipping a toe in to test the waters.

“Ummm yea, I mean I’d love to go back. But… the practicalities of it. Just don’t think it is in the cards for me.” She shook her head gently and picked up her coffee. The mug hid the sad smile she had on her face, a realization that her choices meant her dreams weren’t a possibility anymore. “Besides, there isn’t a theater director who knows my name who’d give me another chance.” She simply shrugged. “It’s cool though. My life’s out here now, new relationship’s out here, friends, family. It’s better this way.”

Chris nodded. “What if you were looking at a writer and producer who wanted you to be in their next show?”

Charlotte laughed, “Very funny, Chris.” She had heard about his next project through the grapevine, which just completed an off-Broadway run in Massachusetts and was picked up to perform on Broadway in the new year. His musical, The Lighthouse, followed the closing shift of a dive bar during a winter’s storm. It was one of those shows where the entire play takes place in a singular room, following four characters, the owner of the bar and his wife, and the main character, Ashley, and her ex, who is a bartender. Charlotte had only read reviews of it but every review praised Chris for his poignant examination of relationships, human connection, and the innate desire to fight for the things and one you love, even when the fight seems foolish and you are outnumbered.

“I’m being dead serious, Charlie. I know you’re about to start promo for the film so you wouldn’t get that break you’re looking forward to. But it premieres on Broadway in March. We are casting new folks since the off broadway cast is transitioning to other roles. And for the lead, I started with your name but didn’t think you’d want to come back. And after scouring my brain for months and chatting with other writers like Lin and all roads lead back to you. You’re perfect for it. Your voice, your skills… you would knock it out of the park.”

Charlotte shook her head, “Oh Chris… thank you but I can’t. It’s just not for me anymore.”

“The stage was made for you, girl. Look, I wasn’t trying to come here and beg you but I will if I have to. I want you, Charlie. Not some random girl no one has ever heard of… You, the woman who made me cry the first time I heard her sing, the woman with perfect pitch, a woman who's been through shit and knows how to bring that pain and vulnerability and channel it into a performance. Look, I could get any recent graduate from Juilliard or Yale and throw them in this show and it would be good. But I don’t want ‘good’. I want excellent and you are excellence. Just give me a year. One year. Not even a year,” he corrected himself as she shook her head. “Six months. Six months and you’ll be nominated for a Tony in 2017, maybe even 2016 depending on when they cut off the season. ”

At the sound of the coveted award Charlotte had dreamed of her entire life, Charlotte perked up. “How do you know it’s Tony worthy?”

“Because I wouldn’t have flown across the country to grovel at the feet of one of the greatest actresses and singers I’ve ever seen for anything less than a Tony-winning role. Six months to a year, max. Give me six months of your life, Charlie and I swear - you’re Grammy and Tony nominated at worst… two steps closer to an EGOT at best. Come on, don’t tell me you forgot? This was on the vision board you showed me when you were a plucky, annoying freshman. This is it, this is the opportunity to make that vision board come true.”

Just as Charlotte opened her mouth to rebut him, he stopped her. “Look, I gotta jet to another meeting. But don’t say no just yet, please? I promised the team I would have my Ashley by the time I got back home on Monday. I’ll send you the tracks, the video of the workshop, talk it over… pray on it, and get back to me in a few days. Just promise me you’ll think about it, Charlie. Please?”

Charlotte nodded weakly. “Fine… I’ll think about it.”

She knew logically there was nothing to think about. The mere idea went beyond playing with fire, it was playing with a raging inferno to move back there. For all she knew, Shaun was a mere powder keg waiting for the right spark to explode and she would be handing it to him on a silver platter. However, her soul and her ambition, well those parts of her were thinking… and they were thinking hard.

She said her goodbyes to Chris and paid for her coffee. And before she could even make it outside to her car, she heard the ding of several emails, all from Chris with the music tracks. She slid into her car and hooked it up as she drove to Michael’s. Since they broke through the physical intimacy barrier, she essentially lived at his place. After spending almost every night there, he cleared out a drawer and gave her space in his closet. Now she rarely went to her own spot.

Since his house was a bit farther out, she made it through Act 1 of the show before she pulled into his driveway. However, she did not immediately turn it off to get out of the car. She was so enthralled that she just sat there in his driveway with her eyes closed, falling deeper in love with the music with every passing chord.

“That fucking bastard,” she muttered to herself as her head thudded back against the seat. “The great Chris MacDonald strikes again.”

It was always a running joke among the Broadway community that no one ever said no to Chris. If he wanted you, he would always find a way to convince you to work for him. Whether it was the strength of the piece itself or his persuasive abilities, no was not a word he heard.

And she hated that it was working on her. This was award worthy. It was more than that, it was a game changer. It would take more than a year to pick up steam but when it did, it would become a household name. She could feel it in her bones. And the main character, Ashley, was perfect for her. Her ballad, which closed out Act I, was giving Defying Gravity levels of emotion. It was climatic and she could just picture herself singing it on stage. And while the show was filled with drama and emotion, it struck the perfect balance of being funny and relatable. It was the type of show you left and talked about for hours with your friends, examining each character and their decisions with a fine tooth comb.

She sat in her car and typed out notes on her phone as she worked her way through Act II, noting things she picked up on and wanted to discuss further with Chris. She did not even realize how long she sat out there until she heard a knock on her car window.

“Shit!” She jumped almost clean out of her skin as she turned to find Michael staring at her with a quizzical look on his face. She took a deep breath before opening the door. “You scared me.”

“My bad. I saw you pull up 30 minutes ago. Wanted to make sure you were good. You on the phone or somethin’?”

“30 minutes?? Sorry, baby. I was just listening to these songs Chris sent me.”

She pulled herself and her bag out of the car and followed Michael into the house. The house smelled delicious, Michael immediately returning to the oven to check on his Bolognese sauce.

“How was coffee?”

“Um… intriguing, that’s for sure.” Charlotte threw her bag down on one of the bar stools and immediately grabbed the loaf of bread and other materials that were sitting out to help Michael finish dinner.

“Ok, elaborate.”

Charlotte sighed. “Well, it wasn’t a friendly catch up like I thought. He has a role for me… in his new show.”

“Ok… and?”

“It’s really fuckin’ good, Bakari. Like game changing good. Like household name good. He said he just wanted six months out of me, which is more than enough to be nominated this year or next.”

Michael nodded. “Ok… I’m hearing all the good things… sounds like good shit. But you’re hesitating. What’s stopping you?”

She turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “Well first, my life is here with you. Not in New York. We’ve only been dating for three months. I don’t want to lose what we have.” Michael glanced at her, waiting for her to say more. “A-and I left New York in such a weird way. I don’t even know how people feel about me now. A-and 8 shows a week??” She ranted, taking her frustration out on the helpless loaf of Italian bread in front of her. “Don’t even know if I can physically do that shit anymore. I’m not that good of a dancer… I mean when would we have time to see each other if I’m doing 8 shows a week? I could kiss my current career goodbye. I feel like I started down this road, don’t know if I should backtrack?”

Michael turned her away from the cutting board and took the knife out of her hands. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer and closer to him.

“What’s really wrong, Els? Cause it ain’t any of the dumb shit you just mentioned.”

Charlotte immediately felt offended, her body attempting and failing to twist out of his firm but still gentle grip. “Excuse me?? Those are legit concerns, thank you very much.”

“No they aren’t. You’re never gonna lose me cause you’re pursuing a dream. New York is a plane ride away, I’ll come to you when I’m not filming. Long distance relationships work and thrive every day, Els.” He started to list off, dismissing her concerns one by one. “You left to save your life. Fuck anyone who doesn’t understand that or sympathize with that shit. Besides, who even gives a fuck what they think? You got Chris in your corner and more people than you think, that’s enough. You can dance just fine. And you run like 6 miles every single day so physically, you can do anything including sing and dance for 2 hrs 8 times a week. And it’s not backtracking. You started in the theater, took a break and are going back. People do that shit literally all the time. I think you’re scared. And if you want to say no for all those practical reasons to Chris, fine. But at least be honest with me. Why are you really hesitating?”

She picked at her nails, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. She hated that she had to consider him, this dark cloud that hung over her head and still indirectly affected her decisions. She hated that he still had this much power

“I left New York for a reason, Bakari. A-and that reason is still walking and talking and… I don’t think I can ignore that just because Chris dangles a shiny Tony in front of my face.”

“Do you really think he’d try something?”

“I… I dunno. But I also don’t know if I want to test that theory. I gave it all up then because I couldn’t stay alive and keep it. I tried that and it didn’t work. All I got was a break in and three days in the ER. How’s this time gonna be any different? Seems dumb to walk right back into the lion’s den.”

“Are you walking back into the lion’s den or following your dreams? Was he a Broadway enthusiast or somethin?”

Charlotte let out a humorless laugh. “Hell no. He hated musicals… and joy… and laughter… and me,” she added under her breath with a humorless chuckle. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because who's to say he will even know you’re there? Even in the most popular shows, the everyday person doesn’t follow news about it. And this is a new show, not like that rap one everyone I know keeps going to see about the dead white people?”

“Hamilton?” Her judgment of his lack of theater knowledge showed in her laughter.. “‘That musical with the dead white people’” she chuckled. “It’s the hottest ticket of the year, babe.”

“See,” he emphasized, ignoring the tone of shade in her voice. “I’m an actor and still don’t know this shit.”

“Bakari… be serious, please.”

“I am!” He laughed. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is even the most popular shows, the non-broadway goer doesn’t know whose in them. You’re a rising star and the benefit of a rising star is that you can still keep a low profile when you want. For all that nigga knows, you’re still in LA. Talk to Chris about promo and maybe keeping a lower profile for the first couple months and all that and secure your dream, babe.”

“But I already proved I can’t have both, Bakari,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “No, you couldn’t have both then. It’s been a couple years, you’re different. And who knows, that nigga could’ve moved to another state or be in a new relationship or anything. A lot can change in two years, right?”

She scratched her head. The things Michael said made total sense but there was still this wall standing in her way.

“Els, baby. Look at me.” His finger lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “I think you should do it. It’s six months until you come back here. Ever since I’ve known you, being the lead of a show has been your dream. And you miss it. And now someone is handing you the opportunity on a silver platter. Why miss it a second time? And if it makes you feel safer, I’ll move with you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Baby, I can’t ask you to move across the country for me. Your family, your friends… your life is here.”

He shrugged. “And in six months, my life will still be here. My future is wherever you are. And I told you a couple weeks ago that I’d do whatever you needed to make you feel safe.”

“Yes, with you. Not out in the world. I can’t ask you to upend your entire life for me. We haven’t been together that long.”

“Semantics. I told you I’d do whatever you needed. This counts in my book. Don’t think about the length of time we’ve been together or where it is or any of that shit. Would it help and make you feel more comfortable if I went with you? At least for a couple months?”

Charlotte studied him for a moment, realizing he was truly being sincere. She found it hard to ask for such a thing but she could not deny that it would help her. Even just knowing that she could come home to someone each night and be safe in their arms felt like it would change everything.

“Y-Yea, it would help a lot. But you really don’t have to, babe.”

“Ok then it’s settled. If you take it, I’ll go with you. I know we’re jumping ahead and skipping some steps but I’m in if you are.”

“You don’t want to think about it?”

He shrugged as he moved to put the garlic bread in the oven. “What’s there to think about? It’s like moving for a role. It doesn’t really change much. When would you have to be there?”

“Top of January, the show is supposed to premiere on March 1.”

He nodded. “Ok so if you decide to do it, we can move right after Christmas to make sure you’re there in time.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Yea while you’re planning our move, I actually need to decide whether to do it.”

Michael leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “I’m removing obstacles so you can make the best decision for you. Not for me or because of that nigga. For you. If you want this, we’ll do whatever we gotta do to make sure you’re safe while you do it, ok?”

Her arms went around his shoulders, their bodies flush against each other. “How’d I get so lucky to find you?”

“I’m the lucky one, honeybee.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “Honeybee? That’s a new one. Where’d that come from?”

“Cause you taste sweet, like honey.”

“‘I taste sweet, what do- ohhhhh,” the memory of him saying that during the first time he gave her head came back to her mind causing her to laugh a bit. “Thought I’d try it out. It has a cute ring to it. You don’t like it?”

“I like any nickname you give me, love. But… let’s make this the only one inspired by our sex life, ok?”

“Deal.”

The pair ate dinner before retreating to his bedroom. They did not talk about Chris’s offer again until they were settled in bed, Charlotte laying on Michael’s chest.

“I think… I think I want to do it. You’re right, it’s my dream and I might not get another shot like this again,” she offered in the quiet and darkness. She knew he was not asleep yet.

Michael did not even take a beat before he responded, “I guess we’re moving to New York then.”

Charlotte sat up, leaning on his chest. “You knew I was gonna take it the whole evening didn’t you?”

He shrugged, before shifting so she was laying back down. He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead and merely smiled. “Yea… when are you gonna learn? I’m always right, baby,” he joked. "You gonna call Chris?

She bit down the joke that bubbled to the surface and merely settled back into his arms with a smile.

“Yes you are, baby. And in the morning, it's after midnight."

"Yea and you said he flew all the way out here for you. That man is probably waiting by the phone for you. Call him, if he's asleep, you can try again in the morning. Besides, knowing you, you'll find some way to talk yourself out of it by morning." He reached over to her side and grabbed her phone. "Call him, babe."

"Touché." She slid out of his bed and paced, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt she had on while her feet dragged across his soft plush carpet.

She waited for a few moments with bated breath until she heard his voice fill her ears.

"Hey, Chris! Sorry if this is too late to call? Hope I didn't wake you."

"Oh no, I was just up working and praying your name would cross my phone sometime before the night was over. Please tell me you called me this late with bad news."

Charlotte chuckled and glanced at Michael who gave her an encouraging smile and thumbs up.

"No, no. Just calling to tell you that you can tell the team you found your new Ashley."

She had to hold the phone away from her ear as his screams of delight threatened to bust her ear drums.

"God, I fucking love you, Charlotte Bennett. I could literally kiss you."

"I think my boyfriend would have something to say about that," she chuckled. "But yea I'm in."

"Amazing. I'll send over details to you and your team tomorrow and we can talk more then. Seriously, Charlie, you won't regret it. I promise."

"I know, thank you, Chris. Seriously. Ok, talk tomorrow. Bye."

She hung up the phone and turned to Michael, the realization hitting her.

"I'm gonna be leading a show on Broadway." She ran back to the bed and jumped on it, her previous exhaustion long forgotten as her excitement took over.

Michael enveloped her in a tight hug before they both settled back into bed.

"This is gonna be good, Els. I can feel it."

She placed a quick kiss on his bare chest. "I feel it too. Thank you. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing this without you."

"I gotchu, Els. Always."

Tags: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! We finally got some smut (woohoo). Tbh smut is like really hard for me to write lol so I hope y'all liked it? I really wanted it to be intimate and showcase how close they've gotten in a short time. They could be sexy and honest and vulnerable and playful with each other and it not ruin the moment, it only enhances it for them. Next chapter, we'll get some fluff with their first public outing as a couple and press tour cuteness (think Tom/Zendaya and Corey/India from Queen Charlotte level cuteness). I'm gonna try to get a one-shot out this week too before I'm off on vacation. We'll see if I can actually get it done :)

Leave a comment on what you thought of the chapter and let me know if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 5 months

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Humanity’s weapon

Synopsis: The ackermans have always been seen as humanity’s strongest. Levi feels like he’s more humanity’s weapon than their best soldier, but you make him feel more than that.

Warnings: fluff / angst !, reader was written with fem in mind but can be read as GN! mentions of death, canon verse!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

There’s something so relaxing about you. Something he loves. The world outside is falling apart. Titans ripping people in half and to shreds. For the longest time Levi felt he was fighting for nothing. He felt used. But he felt this burden, this responsibility. He was capable of bringing the people of Paradis to a better life, even if he didn’t want too, he was able too. So he does it. He fights with all he has, praying he walks out of this mission alive. The only difference is this time he has something to fight for. Someone to go home too. You.

The missions are always dark. There’s more casualties than the last and the hope in his heart is dying slowly. He’s tryin to trust Erwin, but these people are giving their lives for a few dead titans. At this point he felt they were just food. Walking back into his office is quiet, and the look on his face makes it hard to believe the mission was successful.

“Hey.” You say. The air is quiet, there’s a stillness in the room that makes everything feel that much more tense. “How did it go?” You ask carefully.

“A thousand soldiers went out.” He says, standing at his desk. He doesn’t sit, just stays there looking down at the papers askew. “Only three hundred came back. That includes the wounded.” He says quietly, fist clenching at his side.

“Levi..” you speak, unsure of what to do. Standing in the doorway that connects your shared room to his office, your hand fiddles with the door handle. “And your squad?” You ask carefully, and he just sighs. He looks up at you, eyes finally connecting with yours.

“Lost two.” He says, he doesn’t give you their names. You know why. You let go or the door handle, walking to Levi slowly. The closer you get the more you see he frowns, and he doesn’t push you away when you pull him into a hug. He sighs, wrapping his arms around you as you hug him.

“Do you wanna go to bed?” You ask, knowing he’s tired. He nods pulling away for a bit to let you pull him into your shared room. He sits at the edge of the bed, your hands working to undo the ODM straps on him, working calmly to get him out of his uniform. Usually he’d be caught dead wearing his outside clothes in his room, or even sitting with them on his bed, but he’s distraught. More so than usual. The cleanliness is the last thing on his overworked mind, and he feels his body ease when your softer hands work to gentle massage the muscles of his arms. He’s tense and it shows.

Once he’s out of his work clothes, you go to grab out fresh clothes from his wardrobe, listening as he quietly walks to the bathroom to shower. You lay his clothes out neatly, deciding to wait for him to get out the bathroom. He steps out, face pressed into his smaller towel drying his face off. He pulls away to see his clothes laid out for him, you sitting there expectedly. The two of you sit in silence as he gets dressed, and he takes this time to soak in your presence. You’re here, in front of him alive and breathing well. You’re here. He still has you.

As he crawls into bed with you, snuggling up next to you under the warm sheets, he feels more grateful to be alive. Instead of coming home to sleep alone in a cold bed, your safe embrace makes him feel more than a weapon, more than a soldier. For a moment, he knows as long as he’s coming home to you, he’s anything but what humanity uses him for.

#levi aot #snk levi #attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman is too fine for this world #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader

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spider-man-2o99 · 1 year

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so, then, what IS up with miguel o’hara’s moral backbone?

lol sorry if y’all’re sick of my 2099 soapboxing. anyways.

while i understand where the reading of “miguel is a morally bankrupt evil scientist and his spider-man is just a violent shitheel” comes from, i just... really can’t ever get behind it, based on what we see in the text of SM2099 v1 (1992-1996) itself.

like, don’t get me wrong-- from our first introduction to the guy, we very quickly learn that he has been a cog in the machine for one of the 2099 imprint’s Big Bads, the ruthless megacorporation in charge of the United States’ East coast: Alchemax.

..but. like.

the whole point of his origin story is changing that. the initial catalyst for his Spidering--getting roofied by Tyler when he tries to quit his job--would not have happened if he had no moral compass to speak of.

narratively, it’s less that miguel himself is changed, after he gets his powers, but that his perception of the world has changed.

just-- just bear with me, yeah?

see, for a lot of his life, miguel was a perfect cog in a shitty machine, and he did everything he was expected to without even thinking to stray from the path set down for him by his biological father and by alchemax overall.

and, then, suddenly, that’s all ripped from him in an instant. and miguel’s left floundering in the water.

he’s no longer on the winning team-- more than that, he realizes that he probably never even was on the right side of things, to begin with.

miguel o’hara’s most-quoted line is his response to the infamous “great power,” bit: Great responsibility? No. With great power comes great guilt.

he’s repressed, and he’s a hypocrite, but a guy can only turn a blind eye so far when something he knows is wrong is happening right in front of his face.

as soon as it’s even suggested to him, he immediately steps out of line and tries to put his foot down on absolutely not using a human test subject for his personal spider-man project. when stone brushes him off and makes them go through with human testing anyways, and then the subject dies, miguel doesn’t hesitate to turn up his nose and walk out right then and there on the spot.

his reward for it, of course, is an ice-cold dose of Reality.

from there, his blinders get pulled harshly off his face, and mig realizes that he really doesn’t want to keep being the person that he has been. his life has been wasted sitting idly by and letting bad things happen because all he knows is helpless compliance, right up until he goes and gets himself The Fly’ed into spider-man.

and once that happens, and he Realizes it, he starts to fight back.

that’s how the run is kick-started, in the very first three issues!

the first ten issues of spider-man 2099 (1992) follow miguel stumbling from a very sheltered life, having been thrust head-first into navigating a world that is not only deeply, deeply unjust, but also wants him very, very dead.

he don’t got a dead uncle to motivate him! all he’s got it his own fear and an inner desire to use his new abilities to try and make the world a better place.

hell, the first time he put on the costume, ol’ miggy boy wasn’t even doing so for the purpose of becoming a superhero in his off-time-- it was just an old spare in his closet that he threw on in a desperate attempt to Not Fucking Die as a bounty hunter tracked him to his home.

it’s only later on, after he’s had time for it all to sink in, that miguel realizes that he can actually meaningfully help the people who had been cast aside by the same society that had previously lifted him up above them.

as much as he whines and bitches and moans about it, he never seriously considers throwing in the towel and hanging up the costume for good. he may hate what has happened to him, but he never once seems to hate what he can now do with his powers, vis-à-vis challenging injustice.

mig’s often stuck between a rock and a hard place, what with the kind of world he lives in. it’s why he don’t work well when he’s stranded away from his dimension. peter can get his villains locked up just fine and dandy, but miguel’s world isn’t like ours like that. it’s brutal and it’s very very much established across the imprint that earth-928 (marvel 2099) is a kill-or-be-killed place to live.

despite how people harp on him not having a no-kill rule, miguel honestly hasn’t even killed enough people to count on one hand; the first was completely by accident, even, and the second told him to his face that if spider-man let him live he’d just keep being a cannibal gang-boss because no one else ever has or would try to oppose him.

is killing people the answer? not if you have any other option. but. mig ain’t a friendly neighborhood superhero. he’s just doing what he thinks is right in the moment while scared absolutely shitless for his life most of the time.

now, i don’t mean to defend his every action--miguel o’hara isn’t a saint, and, good god, but he’s made some questionable choices--but. at the end of the day, he’s still shown throughout the run to be trying to be better.

and, i dunno. maybe i’m just a sentimental little sap, but a story about somebody who finally “wakes up” and struggles to build a life worth being proud of after years of having shut down from heavy early-life trauma? that hits, man.

hits real close to home, to be honest. learning to Live after so long simply Surviving is fuckin’ hard, man.

#spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #meta #my meta #comic analysis #atsv #itsv #spider-man #marvel 2099 #marvel #across the spider-verse #talking tag #yarfs this all up on ur laps and skitters away into the night for ever #all this long long post is to really say is just. yknow.#just because they never said the words ''post-traumatic stress disorder'' until the 2010s it doesn't mean he wasn't Coded back in the 90s #slaps roof of spider-man 2099. you can fit so much goddamn Coding in this guy #call me whatever u will but i gotta underline i'm NOT in love with this man he is simply my dark mirror reflection of self #sm2099's my Special Interest i gotta lotta thoughts abt it #'dude this is super biased and opinionated' well. yeah. why do u think i point that out all the time? im coverin my ass for a Reason #always do your own research and take away from a piece whatever you want to take away from having experienced it etc. etc. etc.#this is My Blog where I natter on and on and on abt what i Wanna in between the metaphorical scrapbook-making experience

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daryldixonfanfiction · 9 days

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What you fight for! Pt.7 - strawberries and cigarettes *18+

Masterlist

summary: Daryl tries to keep it in his pants, buts it's more then difficult when the girl hes crushing on is indulging a certain candy next to him.

Warnings: a steamy lollipop moment in Daryl's pov, Daryl is obsessed with her curly hair, angst, pining, sexual themes in dreams and thoughts, Daryl has thoughts of having her in the backseat, protective!Daryl, age gape, Daryl being a softy and a gentleman, mentions of bruise, brief mentions of almost previous rape.

wc: 6.9k

Daryl found it hard to focus on the road.

The sun glowed on her just right, and when it hit her brown eyes she looked angelike, her curls glowing like a golden halo. He wanted to move his fingers true her curly hair, smell that soothing scent of shampoo, pull back the two strands of looks that had fallen into her soft brown eyes behind her ear.

Oh, how he craved to touch her.

He should stop before he drives them into a tree - and he does so by pulling his lingering gaze away from her back on the road. She obliviously looked at the map in her lap, because he had told her to, even though he didn't actually need help in navigation. But he was selfish and wanted her to ask him questions about where they were going as it was mostly the only time she would talk.

He had notest her becoming more quiet, avoiding his gaze and he knew it was his doing of his pore words from that morning. But he never intended for this and the more she distanced herself from him the more he felt drawn to her, wanting her to look at him, engage in conversations. And when they had been smothered in silence that he before had no problem with, he would ask her how much longer before he had to take another road, even though he already knew the answer. But he couldn't help himself when the look of accomplishment covered her lips, her eyes and her face and even if it was subtle, he always caught it and he would smile to himself because she was just…perfekt.

He noticed how she would get lost in the scenery speeding by her window and how she was engrossed in writing and drawing when there wasn't much else to do. She leaned against the window once more, gazing to the outside fields and he did the same without notesting, mirroring her against his own window. Then a rumbelle from her stomach broke the silence in the humming vehicle they had been smothered in sins she had told him to turn left and follow highway 76. He suppressed a chuckle, glancing her way as he drove with his one hand firmly on the wheel.

"There's some protein bars in the back,” Daryl offered, still looking ahead.

Julia shakes her head, “I’m not that hungry.” She denied softly, but her stomach rumbling again told a different story - and she kicked herself inwardly as she felt heat begin to blossom on her cheeks. Embarrassed of being caught in a silly lie she didn't know no way she felt the need to lie about in the first place. It was stupid. But Daryl didn't say anything and instead reached behind her seat and easily took out three bars from his pack, then offered them. She hesitated, then gave in.

“Thank you.” She said, taking one from his hand.

The sweet and tasteful chocolate-bar melted in her mouth, the nuts crunched satisfyingly with every chew. As she glanced towards Daryl, watching how he ripped the package open with his teeth, tossing the raper aside and shocked to see how he finish it of with onely tree bites as she still was on her first. She found it amusing how he always ate so care free with no manners, how he smotherd the melted chocolate on his fingers against his pants that would have been avoided if he had kept the raper on. But of course he wouldn't, it was Daryl after all.

Dragging the back of his hand over his mouth, she couldn't help but let out a little chuckle notesting it did nothing to clean the residue of the melted chocolate on the corner of his mouth. Just like a child. Daryl glanced her way in question,

“What’s so funny?” He asked with some still in his mouth.

Julia shakes her head, still smiling as she stares at the smudged chocolate spot. It was just adorable and he didn't even know it. She pointed to her own mouth, making him look at himself in the rear view mirror to see what she was referring to - making him wipe it off with his sleeve. Then began to dig into his second bar and Julia watched in amusement at his clear liking to sweets. When he finished it, he checked himself in the mirror making sure this time he got it all.

Puting the raper neatly away in her bag she then shugged some water down, the chocolate making her terribly thirsty and when she finished, about to put the lid bak on, Daryl nudged her arm, his hand oustreched towards her.

“Give me some.”

Julia handed him the bottle of water without much thought and never before has she seen someone down water that fast. Like he had been deprived of water like a man lost in the desert. And it was impossible to not stare at his adamsappel bobbing up and down his throat with every gulp he swallowed. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she pulled herself together. He held the water bottle to his mouth unaware of her sinfully drooling over how his bicep flexed. The fabric on the denim jacket looked like it would burst. He looked so strong and firm without even trying - and she couldn't help but to remember how bulky he felt under her touche when he had been on top of her, thrusting inside of her. and even then he had been so gentle.

Daryl drank until the need for oxygen was unbearable, handing back an almost empty bottle and offered an out of breath, “Thank’s,” wiping away the axes' water on his lips.

And she aced for his lips to be on hers once more.

“Oh,” She said, snapping out of her engrossed daydream and putting back the water bottle in her pack, suddenly feeling the need to busy herself, beginning writing down the first thing she knew she would need on their journey or she would bleed true her pants eny day now.

And her prayers must have been heard when Daryl not long after stopped at an abundant gas station that was looted with abundant cars.

Finding the auto store loted but walker free Daryl gave her the ‘okey’ to stay inside as he began to siphon fuel from the cars outside. Julia didn't waste any time, beginning to go to the shelves that were mostly empty, but when she found a big box of tampons she almost squealed as she no longer needed to dred of what she would do when her monthly came. The only thing she hoped to find but didn't was painkillers, but she knew she could handle the cramps even though hers tended to be severe sometimes - to the extent of throwing up and almost fainting.

After having consumed all that water earlier nature called and she moved to the ladies room in the back. She knew the place was empty as Daryl had cleared it, but she couldn't help from being hesitant when entering.

Having the rare moment of privacy, away from his watchful eye she pulled out the gun she had taken in secret, back at the house. Knowing he would take it the moment he knew she had it.

She had never handled a gun before, the only knowledge of it was from action movies and watching others kill walkers. She had taken it because after what happened she wanted to feel safe, to protect herself and him if it came to it. But she knew she would not kill someone, it felt impossible to do so inside herself.

Somehow she managed to take the fully loaded klip out, fumbling with the disarmed gun clumsy. It felt surprisingly heavy and smelld of gunpowder and metal. Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror the gun looked out of place in her hands, it felt as if she did something she shouldn't.

Even though she knew she was free to do whatever she wanted, there was this obligation to do what he said, because he kept her safe and he knew more about all this than she did and she had agreed to do what he said when it came to going on this journey - to find the scientists that had become her life purpose. So for now she hid the gun away in her pack once more, hoping she would never have to use it.

…

Exiting the auto shop she moves towards Daryl, who is siphoning fuel into a red dunk. He looks up at her and regards her before questioning,

“Everything okay?”

Julia could feel herself getting nerves, worried he had already smelled the secret she was keeping from him.

“Mmmh,” she assures, “Why do you ask?”

“You were gone for a while. Was almost going to look for ya if you took any longer.”

Oh.

She watched as he leaned his back against the car, waiting for the dunk to get filled as he lightened a smoke, cupping his hand to shield it from the wind.

It should be illegal how he made a bad habit look so good. And wasn't it dangerous to smoke while handling gas? But she knew better than to question him.

Thinking about it she never knew he smoked, but on the other hand a lot of people did. Daryl took a long drag before letting the smoke pass true to his lips, the smoke cloud blowing away with the wind. And she couldn't help but notice how it made him relax, look more at ease.

Roaming true her bag, Julia offers one of her lollipops she had found on her way out. Daryl stared at the pink and read raped up candy in her hand, shooting her a confused look. She offered him a soft smile and insisted,

“Here.”

“Na, I’m good,” he drawls, blowing the white smoke away from her direction.

Unwrapping the candy, as he crosses his arms over his broad chest with the sig still between his lips, she looked at the half full dunk then to the siphon and asked curiously,

“How does it work?”

“The siphon?

“Yeah,” she confirms, placing her pack on the car and plops the candy into her mouth. Daryl explains as he lets the sigaret hang from his lips,

“It’s when liquid travels against gravity.” He began, “mmh hmm,” Julia hums. “The liquid travels up and over the crest of the tube, the weight of the liquid goes into this,” he points to the red dunk, “It pulls the rest of it over the crest, causing the tank to drain.”

Julia swirls the candy in thought as he puts the lid back on the filled up dunk and takes the tube out of the filler neck opening and continues to the next car to fill another dunk of fuel. Julia follows, caring the heavy dunk and Daryl questions as he works the tube down the tank,

“You understand?”

“Well…only the part about liquid traveling against gravity,” she confessed, putting the dunk bak on the ground “The rest was too… complicated.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, then put the tube to his mouth, sucking the fuel out, then let it drain out into the dunk and spat out the burning taste of gas.

Daryl leans against the car just like he did before and Julia glanced at his side profile. Silently studying him from head to toe. He was a very handsome man, smart. It felt like he had experienced far more of life than she had, had so much knowledge, had the answer to her every question and always knew what to do.

She found him so capable. Safe. Everything a man should be she saw in him.

The taste of sweet cherry ingolfs her mouth and she takes the candy out to speak,

“Maybe next time I can fill up one du-

“Na,” Daryl cut her off. “You don’t need to be doing shit like that. Gas ain’t good for ya.”

“Gas isn't good for you either, you know.” Julia countered and Daryl gave her a look making her drop it knowing he wouldn't change his mind. She just wanted to be helpful when he did so much. Protecting her, going on this journey.

Plopping the candy back into her mouth she put her pack back on and the dunk along to start refiling the truck. But before she reached the truck, Daryl had caught up to her and took the heavy dunk from her grasp, caring both effortlessly.

“Thanks,” she said looking up at him and he gave her nood in response.

“Can you hand me that funnel?” Daryl asked her, handling the dunks to refuel the truck. "It's in the back.”

“Okay,” she responds and retrieves the funnel to him, happy that she helped in any way.

…

It had been a good day so far, but still the sadness creeped in when there was nothing occupying her wandering mind. She had tried to distract herself in the journal, but when she realized she was drawing his eyes that she found so beautiful, she put it back in her pack and just stared out the window, watching Virginia's landscape speed by, In hop of thinking of anything else that didnt pain her heart.

What confused her the most was how could he be so normal about what had happened between them, how he kept being close to her even though he had told her it was wrong? And she just didn't understand. Nothing made sense any more. All she knew was she liked him and he didn't reciprocate those feelings, not in the way she wanted him to. And why did he all of a sudan wanna be close, talking more than he had done with her before? It made her distancing herself from him so much harder, painful even when she was so drawn to him. Maybe she would forget about her unrequited feelings for him if he wasn't being so kind, so protective and if he wasn't currently staring her way. She wished for him to keep his pools of deep blue on the road.

She could feel his gaze making a home on the back of her haid, but she couldn't look at him right now, because, if so, she feared for her feelings to deepen even more and it would all be so much more painful in the end. And she wondered, when someone rejected someone, wasn't the normal thing to do, not to give the other mixed signals - to keep to their words of rejection and regret?

Virginia. America's heartland. It's late autumn scenery was breathtaking and even more so in the golden sunset and for a moment she just admired the view. Thinking about everything and nothing at once while tasting another lollipop that tasted of strawberries. Her grandparents used to grow them.

–

Daryl struggled once again to keep his focus on the road. And even more so when she was so carelessly sucking on that damn candy stick. Making sinful sounds every time she would drag it between her plump lips that he knew were soft, because he had tasted them that night he could not get out of his mind.

The memory forever plays on repeat.

She was just like candy, sweet and addictive. But he would not let himself give into that craving. Even though every time he would nudge her to get her attention, just to make her look at him, hear her soft voice and he knew he wasn't truly keeping to his own promise. It wouldn't be long before he broke it.

No.

He wouldn't let himself do that.

He couldn't.

He had to protect her from himself.

He would only end up hurting her more then he already had. She deserves someone that was worthy of her soft-heartedness, her untainted soul. And he knew he wasn't worthy of her kindness, that he never would be, so he had to draw the line. Telling her it had been wrong because she deserves someone who was as good as her, he would never be that. All he could do was to protect her, do whatever it took in order to keep her safe, and he had already failed her in that.

It ate at him, gilt burning in his gut every time he would stare at her for too long and he would see that bruise on her delicate throat that had turned bluish purple. Now and again he would catch her unintentionally scratching it, making him worry it was hurting.

That picture of her underneath that monster, pushing her down on the bed, forcing her legs open as she fought against him, silenced with that disgusting man's hand around her throat. And if he haven’t followed his gut filing to go into that room when he had she would have been raped and killed and God knows what more by the other men in the house. And it felt like he was more traumatized than she was which worried him.

She had been deathly quiet just after he dragged her out of the house but then it was like it never had happened in the first place. Because of course she was so selfless and good - and all she did was to care for him, soothing him with her kind words and her soft touch.

He will forever be undeserving of her.

And that was when he realized how strong someone could be without any physical strength. That her emotional strength was something far beyond, something he needed and never wanted to live without. When he thought about it she had always seen through him, been there for him when he had been weak, vulnerable and he could only feel undeserving, but it had meant everything to him.

He flexed his wrapped up hand, and even though his knuckles were aching all he could think of was her touch from the night before. When she had told him it would not heal and then softly wrapped it up again. He had been close to kissing her then, too close. Just by her touch she had him folded, and how she looked at him with her kind eyes, he knew he would do anything she asked. He would bring the moon down for her if she so desired, and he had never felt something so strong and so delicate for someone else, and that scared him in a way. Because he knew there would be no limits for what he would do in the name of her.

After all, he already had. With no regret - no second thought. It had been cristall clear of what he had to do in order to insure her safety.

Did she even know what she was doing to him?

What was she putting him through?

And right now she was putting him in true hell and she had been doing so sins she had found them damned lollipops she had found in the auto-shop. The strawberry scent filled his nostrils and he could feel himself hardening in his jeans at the sight of her sinfully sucking on that candy that he wished was himself. But he wouldn't let his mind go there, not any further at least. But then the thought of the candy being his finger she was sucking on as she deeply locked eyes with him - or even better, if it was-

He shook his head to himself, trying to think of anything but that, because if he did he would stop the car, show her what she was doing to him as he would have her over and over again in the backseat until she begged him with her sweat voice, chanting his name like a prayer over and over until she fell apart under his touch.

Fuck.

He closed his eyes then looked her way and he shouldn't have. Because when he did so, she plopped the candy out of her mouth, a string of saliva followed, her lips pretty and swole glistening with the red color of the candy that just begged him to give in, inviting him.

Damnit.

He had to do something, he could not take this much longer. A beautiful, naive girl inches from him, sucking on a lollipop like it was him. Firmly Daryl tries to get her attention by calling her name but she is somewhere else in her pretty little head, thinking of something so interesting she didn't hear the second time either, making him become incredibly frustrated. So with no option left he reaches over and takes the candy out of her mouth, being met with her pretty bambi eyes and surprise written all over her soft features.

“Hey! What are you doing?” She questions.

“You are supposed to be keepen your eyes on the map.”

He should be keeping his eyes on the road.

Julia rolls her eyes, then looks at him and demands, “Give it back.”

“Nah.”

“What do you mean, Nah?” She tries to snatch it back, but his arm being superiorly taller than hers makes her groan in frustration when it was impossible to reach.

Then she tries a different tactic by pulling at his jacket by his biceps, and even though she pulled with all of her might with both of her hands to get it back, it did nothing.

“Daryl!” Julia whines and his eyes almost roll back to the sound of it, “Comon, Daryl! Give it back!”

Still holding on to his clothed bicep she looked up at him with big puppy eyes, her brows furrowed, “Please,” she begs. And there was an immediate reaction as she did so, even though his face became unreadable, his arm felt like it was flexing even more in her hold.

His eyes went back and forth between her and the road they were still driving on and Daryl fought for his life not to fold. Julia could feel him giving in slowly but surely. She then tilts her head at him and bats her eyelashes, “Pretty please? Pretty, pretty please?”

She could see him visibly swallow before he looked away from the road looking down at her and she knew if she wanted a chance it would be now when he was completely disarmed, the focus on her and not on the candy he had taken hostech. And the way he decided to do so was beyond her.

As she tried to snatch it back, it was as if all of a sudden he snapped back to reality - and before she could attempt to stop him, he told her with that stupid smirk that looked so good,

“Nah,” plopping the candy into his mouth, making her frown in complete frustration with this ever confusing man that was probably around the same age as her dad - that more acted as a child.

Daryl couldn't help but be amused by her pouting. He knew she was upset but he was left with no other choice. And the way she looked when she got mad was the most adorable thing he'd seen. Even though he knew he shouldn't - but he so badly wanted to see her frown with her soft features, see her wrinkle her nose and hear her whining that made his eyes roll back, imagining her beneath him.

What was this girl doing to him?

…

As the last light dips beneath the horizon, Daryl spots a fighting spot by the edge of the forest. He drives them off the road true the open grassland into the protection of tall pine trees.

The engine hums into silence as Julia's eyes almost drift close. Daryl's voice stopping her from doing so,

"We'll stop here tonight.” Daryl informed.

Julia yawned, “We aren’t there yet?”

“Nah, common.” Daryl's answers as he gathers his pack. "Let's set up camp so you can get some shut eye.”

“I’m not even tired,” Julia argues.

Setting up camp Julia began to feel a heavy sense of dread and she didn't understand way. Last night was no problem, neither was the night before, so why was today different?

They arrange their sleeping bags after dinner. Daryl dimmed the lantern to its lowest setting, creating just enough light to not be swallowed by the night.

The dark, the cold, and the vulnerability of being asleep all made Julia very uneasy. She couldn't help but fight sleep even though being terribly tired. The thought of possibly being woken by a living nightmare, like she had been in that car when she was taken, disoriented and frightened, and in the house she had thought it would be safe enough to rest.

That happening again, struck a fear so deep she didn't know if she ever could be okay.

Julia stared into the darkness of the forest, tall trees surrounding them. But then she looked up and the sky was clistar clear, stars shining brightly, forming constellation after constellation. She counted them, like sheep before one fell asleep. Her mind calmed enough for her eyes to get heavy, her breathing slowed down until she finally drifted into a deep sleep that she hoped would take her far away from the fear of nightmares she had experienced and the heartache that troubled her so deeply.

–

Daryl watches over her as she sleeps soundly, protected by the warmth of the sleeping bag he was happy he could provide. He washes her face twitch and how the steady pace of her breathing moves her form up and down. Her face looked so peaceful, so beautiful and serene, without a care in the world.

Her hair fell in her face making her frown. Daryl tucked the curls away, pooting the hair behind her ear. Soft. He gently caressed her cheek and just admired her there and the beauty she possessed.

He could stare at her for hours and never get enuff.

–

Julia was woken by his warm touch on her face.

His fingers gently dancing along her skin. They were lying on their sides, facing one another, gazing deeply into eachothers eyes. Her heart drummed in her ears, butterflies dancing in her stomach. And for the first time she smiled at him and he returned it just as softly as his thumb dragged along her lower lip, slow and gentle, making her close her eyes, and just focus on his touch.

The only man she would let her touch her like this was him, and only him, no one else.

Oh, how she had missed this.

Missed him.

And she was so happy.

A soft giggle escaped her lips as she returned to deeply gazing up at him. Daryl Dixon, was the most beautiful man she had ever laid her eyes upon. There was this rare beauty in his deep blue eyes that looked so softly at her she feared she would melt. The way his hair curtend his dashing face and the way his stubble framed his jaw so handsomely and the lines of aging had her admiring each and every single one.

Daryl watches her back, his blue eyes wandering across her face down her neck. He softly touched the bruise on her trout. Creating goosebumps there, making her shiver of simply his touch. She shuts her eyes for a moment and sighs contently as she lens into it.

His pupils are blown with desire, his jaw clenched and muscles tensing as if he’s trying to hold himself back, and he tells her, his voice deep and rubeling,

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do yah?”

And Julia simply smiles softly, before leaning up and presses her mouth to his cheek. His hand on her neck shot out, and she jolted when he pulled her in by cradling her head, leaning in and kissing her just like he did that night. Hungry and starving.

And oh, it was heavenly.

Her hands fist’s on his color as his tongue danced with hers, his other hand tilting her chin up to get better axes. His stubble tickled her, but she could care less. Because finely, finely, his lips had returned to hers and she wished for it to never stop.

The warmth of Daryl’s body pressed against hers creates a safe haven, momentarily replacing the fears with the undeniable comfort he provides. The dread and the fear melts away, it feels like she can finally breathe without her heart strings being pulled.

His nose pressed into her skin as they kissed, and he spoke even though his lips weren't the ones talking. And she didn't understand. Then, when his lips began to fade and his face began to blur and the voice calling her name from some distant place, repeatedly calling for her as she was shaken. She opened her eyes, meeting his ocean blues staring down on her newly woken form, as she was blinking past the wetness in her eyes.

“Hey, hey.” He soothed softly, worry covering his features and Julia realized she had been crying, but it had been tears of joy, of happiness. But being met with the reality it had all been just a dream, more felt like it was breaking her heart. Because it had been too good to be true. What she had longed for to be real. And she knew he would never reciprocate those feelings, touch her that way, nor kiss her like her heart aced for so terebully.

Now real tears did fall and the ace was once more heavy in her chest. She tried to blink them all away, but the wetness just kept coming, making her cheeks raw and her vision blurry. She wished she could have more control of her emotions, but it was all too much, overwhelming her like it had never done before. She had never had such a vivid dream and woke up crying this way. And it didn't make it easier with him drying her tears away as he softly rubbed the back of her hand,

“Hey, hey. It was only a bad dream, you're okay. I got you. I got you.”

As her tears began to slow and she had calmed enough to speak, she took a shaky breath,

“It was a happy dream.”

He searched her face - then, “You’re crying,” Daryl stated,

He had been terribly worried when he saw her serin face turn into her crying in her sleep. He had panicked, anxiety spiking as he shook her awake. Fearing she was reliving the horror she had been true. So he didn't understand when she told him ‘it was a happy dream’.

One last tear fell and he wiped it away - watching how she closed her eyes as his thumb lingered there - simply because he couldn't handle seeing her sad. It crushed him in a way he didn't know he could feel. But then she looked deeply into his eyes, her brown eyes shining as she smiled sadly and she told him,

“Because I wished it was real.”

Daryl froze at her words.

Her confession sent guilt spireling, digging into him deeply - a confession he knew the reason behind, because her eyes looked just as sad as they did that morning, when she had been so happy and he just went ahead and ruined it all.

This was why she was crying.

Because of him.

Because of what he had said.

There was so much he wanted to say but he didn't know how to. To confess what he truly felt inside. But he was teribull with words. He would only mess up again, creating more harm than good.

Julia lowered her eyes to turn away from him. She didn't know how much more of this she could take before it all became too much again. And there was shame in how she had dreamed of him in that way, like it was rong, just like he had said. Then before she could do so, he pulled her in by the waist into his arms,

“Come here,” he said softly.

She was surprised but didn't shy away from his hand holding her lower back, pressing her body into his warm chest and her head beneath his chin. Her hand naturally fists his jacket as the other was curled into herself. His steady heartbeat and his calming breath soothes her until she falls asleep in his arms.

…

Daryl woke up to sunlight.

He didn't sleep as much as he should have. There had been too much on his mind keeping him awake. Julia was already awake, cooking them breakfast as she did her morning routine, fixing her hair for the day, and brushing her teeth.

Finishing her second braid with a rosette of some white fabrike she continued to stir the oatmeal. Her hair looked longer this way and her aperens even softer, if that even was possible? Plaiting two portion of breakfast Daryl seated himself as she turned down the gas stove,

“You're up early,” he said and Julia handed him his plate, along with a spoon.

“Yah. I was so hungry I thought I was going to die if I didn't get up and make something.”

Daryl hummed and dug in. They both ate in a comfortable silence as the morning sun brightened up another day - though the noticeable chillier weather and natural light had become darker by each passing day.

Julia rinsed the dishes in the nearby stream as Daryl packed up the truck for their continued journey..

…

Silens was unending inside the car.

Julia was being avoidant, not once looking his way. It bothered him. She had been sad - and in the morning he had been naive and thought everything was going to be okay. But the way she looked far away through the window, he knew she was far from it.

She didn't draw nor write that he knew she liked to spend her time doing. She just started with a map in her lap, with that look in her eyes. He wanted to do something, but didn't know how to, it felt like he never did.

Hours passed on. Daryl drifted away in his own thoughts as julias gaze never left the window.

Boredom eventually makes Julia move her attention from the tree's speeding bay and opens the glove compartment, finding a cassette. She studies it in her hands before putting it back. As she reaches forward to do so, Daryl stops her.

“Let’s hear it,” he encourages. “Could be something worth listening to.”

Julia gives him an unsure look. Hesitating before she puts it into the player. Daryl presses play and turns up the volume. The car fills with tons of an old song he hasn't heard since his mother was alive.

‘Love will abide, take things in stride.

Sounds like good advise

But there's knowone there by my side’

He leans back in his seat, his left hand on his thigh, tapping along to the all familiar rhythm as he sighs in content. Julia thinks he doesn't like the music that's playing and moves to turn it off.

“Oh, no wait,” he stops her, “No, leave it. Leave it. Oh this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Rondstadt is?”

“Yeah, I’ve listened to some of her songs.” Julia finally says, “This is my favorite song of hers.”

Daryl hums, smiling as a memory pups up in his head. He rarely remembered good things of his childhood but he could clearly remember his mom singing along as she did laundry in the summer sun. It was before she had turned to drinking wine, when she still smiled and still sang - wearing that yellow sundress she always wore in the summer, that his father didn't approve of, due to his jealous tendencies and her beauty that had everyone turning their heads.

God, his mother was beautiful.

She will forever be the most beautiful woman he’ll ever see. But from the moment Julia passed true the prison gates - there it was. That familiar beauty he couldn't put his finger on, but it was there and he had tried to deny it. Now being with her, he knew, and there was no denying. So he simply admired her from afar, quietly, or at least tried to.

He would not put his feelings into words, because there were not enuff words that could possibly be enuff, no words that would do her justice. Neither would he be close - like he craved for so badly. The only exception had been last night. He had to, because he couldn't handle her sadness, the tears in her eyes. He was in agonizing pain, because he knew if he gave in like he had done, he would only hurt her, maybe even lose her. He didn't know how, but he knew good things never last for him. Not for Dixons. It never had.

Song after song played in the care. Julia didn't seem as sad nor quiet. She seemed to forget her sadness as she mindlessly sang along the country tunes. It was as if she had forgotten he was there or maybe she wasn't aware she was singing? But he didn't care. Her voice was so beautiful he never wanted her to stop.

The last song comes to an end, the car once more smothered in humming from the engine. Julia washes a distance hurd endlessly walks true overgrown fields in the horizon. He notices the change in her demeanor. He worries the sadness in her eyes had returned, that he could no longer distract it with music that had seemed to work so well. But then Julia lens back in her seat to lock true the wind shield and she is the one that asked him a question and even though it's isn't much it’s something and she asks him,

“What if we don’t find them? What if they're gone?”

“We're gonna find them.” He tells her matter of factly.

“How do you know?”

“I’m persistent.”

And Julia knew that he was a very capable man. He was a tracker after all. This was what he did best. But she couldn't help but to feel this doubt the closer they were, fearing she would yet again get her hopes up only to be left disappointed. To be left with the dread, of what would be the point of going on, what would be her purpose in life, her driving force if not she could save humanity and make everything right.

“And what if they're not in Pittsburgh?”

“We continue west. Wyoming.”

Julia nods, tracing their way west from highway 70 to 76. It would be a long drive, maybe 25h, but she prefers that then walking true six states that would take them months.

“So, we're in Wyoming then?”

“Somewhere close to Cody.” Daryl tells her and Julia begins to look at the state maps to get a closer look. And when she locates it with her finger, Daryl senses her question,

“If we don't find them there, the odds are they will be holding up in another hospital in a nearby city. Ain’t to many of ‘em in Wyoming.”

Julia hums with her eyes on the map, “Chee-Yen,” She tries to word one of the cities.

“Cheyenne.” Daryl corrects her.

“Che-” she begins "really?" Daryl looks at her and nods in confirmation.

Julia continues naming the cities, “Cheyenne…Laramie…Casper– Julia puts down the map book in her lap, her hands resting on top of it, “Way are you doing all of this?”

Daryl looks at her, taken back by her straightforward question. And he didn't know what to say. Or more, how to say it.

“Seems like the right thing is all.”

Julia studies him, something is different, she can feel it, but she was so curious remembering how he had been so dismissive of this in the beginning. When he told her to forget it, that it would get her killed in the end.

“What do you mean?”

And Daryl wished for her to stop asking questions. To stop being so curious. Even though he had been the one that had longed for conversations in their smothered silence.

“You know.” He simply told her. As if it would shut her up before she would find out the real reason, his deepest truth that needed to be kept from her.

“What?” She pushed on and Daryl relents with the half hearted truth,

“I thought it was nuts. But then…

“Then?” She prompts eagerly.

Daryl sighs softly as he squints against the midday sun, “Then your scar convinced me I guess. That it’s real. And I believe youre doing the right thing… That maybe… a cure is possible.”

His confession made her smile brightly at him, and he thought for a moment time had stopped. He wanted to kiss her, stroke her soft cheeks, feel her pigtail braids between his fingers. His heart beating so hard against his chest he worried she could hear it.

“You really believe I’m doing the right thing?” She asked, hope glittering in her eyes.

“Yah,” he said earnestly, making Julia's heart swell.

"Yah it is,” she echoed, “I’m gonna make it right again, for the ones we lost. I want to give people a chance. That’s all I want… Do you think that’s too much to ask for?”

“No,” he said. Because anything she asked for was his life mission. Seeing her like this, with hope in her eyes and a peace in her smile he couldn't feel anything but to do right by her.

Pt.8 Masterlist

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #fanfics #twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #apocalypse

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yourantag · 4 months

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Rises the Moon (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: 3 posts in a row? More likely than you'd think! The next is probably gonna be dropped on New Years since I heard if you post too much at once, you can get shadow banned. Still, gotta feed you guys the few things I've written before I'm dragged back to school. This fic was actually written in August for the Ithaqua server's Ithaugust. The prompt was "you forgot, but I remember." I was between hitting the reader with a car k-drama style or this, but luckily I ended up with this. Enjoy! Word count: 2.0k words TW: Mild violence, death, and yandere themes. Summary: The sun god has always loved the deity of the moon. Even as galaxies collided and the stars died, he has loved them. But fate is not kind, ripping you away from him. Again, and again, and again. So, even if you cry, he can only apologize. He'd rather confine you in these walls than lose you ever again.

"What do you think of mortals, my sun?"

"They're selfish fools who yearn for more than they need, so easily consumed by greed."

"My, such cruel generalizations. Not all of them are like that."

"Perhaps, but can you truly claim that most are innocent?"

"I suppose not, but I believe in it."

"Believe in what?"

"The good in humanity. I'm willing to bet my life on it."

The ebbing and flowing of time was as inevitable as the pushing and pulling of the tides, taking with it lives and memories of the past. With each rotation of the sun, the rise of a new moon, and the occasional visits of comets and asteroids from beyond, life continued. Regardless of the pain and suffering of those who lived on, the world continued to turn, just as time continued to march on. Sometimes, Ithaqua wished it would just stop.

Thirty million, two hundred two thousand, and twenty three years have passed.

Twenty five human lifetimes have come and gone, each one leaving him more grief-stricken than before.

Every encounter with you was as devastating as the last, leaving Ithaqua yearning to see you again while praying he didn't. Every time he met you, you'd steal his heart again, as if you could steal something that was already yours to begin with. Yet, still, he'd fall in love with you again and again, lifetime after lifetime, like a fool.

Each life only really started when he met you, held you in his arms, and loved you. Then, tragically, horribly, unavoidably, his life ended when you died.

The first life had been fine, the two of you born as commoners in some civilization long past. It was a hard life of surviving the elements, fending off wild animals, and trying to just live in a world humans had not yet adapted to. Still, however difficult it was, Ithaqua treasured the memories of that life as it had taught him so much about humans.

Such resilient creatures, capable of persevering and creating. He saw just how brilliant they were, and just how stupid as well. They could take down animals twice their size and weight yet couldn't figure out how to navigate.

Incredible.

Regardless, sitting around campfires, singing songs, running in the fields and just living was invigorating. Ithaqua came to appreciate life and the small things within it; from the crunching of leaves to the chirping of birds, the blue seas and the cloudy skies. The views and experiences he'd never get to have as a god, the ones he'd never get to know or love as an immortal, even the very essence of fleeting lives became so, so very beautiful to him.

Humans were nothing compared to the gods, but when Ithaqua sat among them, talked to them, laughed with them, he came to find that you were right. Despite how difficult it was to live in this world, humans still held kindness for each other. They offered him food despite not having much for themselves. They offered him shelter despite not having much room. They offered him help despite needing help themselves.

Such complicated, foolish, yet oddly kind creatures they were, but that made them all the more charming. Ithaqua genuinely considered that the humans in this world were unlike the ones from the last, that they were truly good. They treated the two of you so well, and taught him so much.

The last lesson they ever taught him was just how far they'd go to ensure their own survival.

It wasn't something Ithaqua ever expected to experience, not when he had been a god his whole life. The rumble of the earth as it trembled under the stamping feet of hundreds of cattle shocked him. Fear bloomed in his heart as he saw animals he'd only ever regarded as sacrifices before becoming deadly, stampeding through the small village the two of you resided in.

He was lucky, or so many had said. Surviving such an experience by not being too close was a blessing. Yet, how could Ithaqua feel that way when you hadn't made it out safely? When he saw, from the cliff that watched over the village, that a man pushed you in front of the charging cattle to save himself?

The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on his tongue for a long time, even after he had killed the man and everyone whose negligence led to the incident.

The next life was kinder, as though the world itself understood he needed time to process things and feel better. When he met you once more, you had given him a warm smile and a hug.

Ithaqua held you for a long, long time. He breathed in your scent, listened to the steady beat of your heart, and slowly started to compose himself. He hadn't even realized how distressed he was until he found himself calm once more.

The two of you caught up, explaining what had happened in this life, what you wanted to do in this slightly more advanced time, and more. At some point, Ithaqua had to ask you if you still believed in the good in humanity.

"Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?"

He wanted to say the obvious answer. He wanted to point out the fact that you died in the last life because of humans, because of their selfishness, their incompetence, their betrayal. Yet, when he looked in your eyes, seeing them clear of any feelings of hatred, Ithaqua let it go. If you forgave them, he would too.

Really, it should've been more obvious to him that it was a warning.

The gentle days of sitting in the sun, playing in the river, and feeling the pure relief of having you back had made Ithaqua blind to such a hint. He simply went on with this life, living happily with you by his side.

Though extremely wary, Ithaqua came to trust humans once more. Naively, he came to believe that perhaps, the humans of this time period were better. Perhaps, they were more civilized. With less of a focus on surviving and more so on improving the quality of life, things were more peaceful than before.

Ithaqua relaxed as he once more laughed among humans, sharing new jokes, reciting old poetry, and learning new things that had recently been discovered. You always smiled so sweetly when you saw him interact with mortals, so he tried his best to be more social.

"Talking with humans is crucial! It helps stimulate the brain and be happier. We're humans now, so we need to keep in mind what they need to survive."

Ithaqua would've loved to disagree, claiming that this vulnerable mortal shell was not who he was, therefore his needs were not the same, but his stomach would always disagree. Still, he vehemently denied being human, even as he ate whatever you had made for him. At the least, Ithaqua knew he didn't need to spend time with others. You were more than enough.

The moments he had with you were treasured more than any others.

He shared the first snowfall of his life with you, the soft specks of ice fluttering delicately in the wind. They swirled around you two as you danced, laughing as the surroundings became blanketed in white. Ithaqua thought, once again, that the world was beautiful. But, perhaps that was just because of you?

However, it seemed like only when the wounds of the past had healed that tragedy would strike once more. This time, it was a more targeted murder, one where they were out to kill you specifically. Poisoned to death because of jealousy, because of someone who apparently loved him and thought that, somehow, he'd love them if they killed you.

The first winter of that year was tainted by the blood on his hands, soaking into the snow. Red seeped into the ice and polluted the otherwise serene beauty of the frost covered land, painting it in ugly colors that seared itself into his mind. However, compared to the sight of your cold, lifeless, glassy eyes, the once comforting and kind ones that shined like stars in the sky, it was no travesty.

No words in the world could express the pain in his chest or the severity of this crime. Not even if the heavens fell or if the world itself turned its back on its inhabitants, nothing, nothing at all could be worse than the sin of robbing you of your life.

Ithaqua's heart ached more than his frostbitten fingers realizing that, this year, he wouldn't get to dance with you. Not this year nor the next, or the next, not until he died and was reborn to start the cycle anew.

Even after the first betrayal, the first death, Ithaqua felt incredibly hurt that he was betrayed again by humanity.

Still, he pushed on.

For you.

Yet, with each life that passed by, you recognized Ithaqua less and less. You forgot things about him, be it his godhood or the memories you shared. You were starting to forget yourself, not remembering that you weren't human, that this wasn't how you were supposed to be.

By the tenth life, you didn't recognize him at all.

You remembered nothing about your past lives, nothing about your godhood, not even his name, nothing, you remembered nothing.

You forgot.

Still, he desperately sought you out. In each life, Ithaqua tried to get you to remember your past lives, the happy memories, the bad ones, even just his name or the stupid bet, anything. It would be fine if you remembered that time he slipped and fell like an idiot. It would be fine if you remembered how he tried to drown a fish. It would be fine if you remembered anything, anyone, just as long as you remembered.

But you didn't.

And, every time, you'd die.

Again. And again. And again.

You fell for the trickery of humans time and time again. To their cunning, their cruelty, their evil. No matter how he tried to save you, how hard he tried to convince you not to trust them, it never mattered. Everything he did was futile, only ever allowing him to miserably watch as you died again.

Once upon a time, Ithaqua believed. He thought it was possible that, in another world, another place, humans could be kind. They gave kindness so freely, offering assistance and support with smiles, but in the end, the results were always the same.

Humans could never be trusted, not when he- you had been betrayed in every lifetime.

…

Twenty five.

Twenty five lifetimes with you. Watching you get betrayed, watching you suffer, watching you die.

And yet, you remembered none of them.

It's no different this time, you see him and feel a connection, yet you don't remember him. You sometimes remember things about him like his favorite color, his favorite foods, even the things he hates, but it's always chalked up to instincts, nothing more and nothing less.

Ithaqua is tired. Tired of being forgotten, tired of being betrayed, but most of all, tired of losing you. So, there's really only one thing he can do. If you won't listen to his warnings, and if all of his efforts to protect you are futile, then the only logical option is to keep you away from humans.

It's not hard to get you away from them when you trust him with your life.

Delicately trailing a finger down your face, Ithaqua smiles. Blindfolded, chained, and trapped you may be, but you're still radiant in his eyes. Ever so brilliant and glowing, even within the confines of a dimly lit room.

"It'll be okay, my moon, all will be fine. Here, you are safe. No one can hurt you, and no one can take you away." Ithaqua drags his hand down your arm, watching you shiver. He pulls up the blanket on your lap to cover you more, humming lightly.

"You know, I'm quite a jealous man." He says off-handedly, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles, the chain around your wrist clinking at the faint movement.

"Death has had you for so long... would it be so selfish of me to ask you to stay with me for eternity?"

If you don't remember, it's fine. After all, he remembers, and that's what matters. Ithaqua can remind you as many times as you need. After all, you can't leave.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

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wellpresseddaisy · 6 months

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And Wishing I Was Gone, Going Home

Rather belated, but for the 4th prompt, Home.

His mother never told him magic had a smell.

She’d taught him so many things in their shabby kitchen in Cokeworth, but not that. He’d thought it her perfume, the subtle scent of petrichor and stormy seas that hovered about her, even on days it didn’t rain.

And girls like Lily, well they just smelled nice, didn’t they? She made him think of the first warmer days in spring and those little violets that sweetened the breezes.

He never noticed it on the train, too excited and then too annoyed to smell anything. It wasn’t until much, much later that he realized his housemates each had their own distinctive scent that grew stronger when they cast. Most of them he didn’t have names for until he’d had more experience in the world.

Some of them made him sneeze terribly, like Gareth Abernathy. Looking back, he felt a bit bad that Gareth had to be moved to a different dormitory, but it was either that or Severus moving. Lucius and the other prefects came out of that dorm grim-faced. They never told him what the boys said they’d do if Severus was the one moved.

Even Lucius didn’t know about his…talent. Something told him to keep it to himself. It gave him an edge, once he learned to navigate all the scents coming at him in a day. He nearly always smelled James Potter (grassy, overlaid with something too, too sweet) before he saw him.

He should have known the first time he met the Dark Lord that he couldn’t be trusted. His magic smelled of decay and dust, like the inside of a tomb. It crawled into Severus’ sinuses and stayed there, a constant reminder. Why had he pledged himself to that? He smelled like the darkest of the dark books in the Malfoy library, the ones Lucius pulled him away from with a sharp,

“I catch you near those again, my lad, and I’ll wallop you myself.”

His mark smelled the same way, blooming horribly every time Voldemort found something pleasing. He found it a small mercy that he carried the mark only a year or so before…before soft spring and tiny violets were ripped forever from the world.

The decay kept returning, though. Faintly, faintly he’d smell it through the next decade. He hoped, but he knew one day it would return as strong as ever.

He knew the Potter child would play a part in whatever came the first day of class. To see him snickering with the latest Weasley after Draco’s hours-long diatribe on Potter refusing his hand…he wasn’t sure if the headache or the mere existence of another Potter set his teeth on edge more.

Potter…Potter’s magic smelled of the green new growth in a forest. The underlay of it, though, stopped Severus in his tracks. Frankincense and myrhh, the scent of one laid to rest. He knew. In that moment he knew it would be Potter to end the Dark Lord’s reign, whenever it came.

He never knew how he made it through the years of waiting, always on guard, decay floating at the very edge of his senses. The return…that was almost a relief.

Something tickled his nose. Sandalwood and leather and warm feathers. He shifted and…bedlinen? Would his earthly torment never end?

That last night in the Shack…he’d known. Known it would come one day. Some part of the universe must have cared, because he closed his eyes the last time smelling not decay but the clean, astringent wash of frankincense and myrhh.

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

He breathed in, his chest caught on searing pain.

“Lie still, you ridiculous brat. Cissa’s been up three days keeping you from popping your cogs. If you destroy her hard work then we’ll certainly have words.”

Lucius. He’d know that scent and that supercilious drawl anywhere. And…sweet, clean lavender wafted over him.

Narcissa.

“She’s asleep, finally. You should also be asleep, as a hint.”

He managed an interrogative sort of noise.

Lucius sighed. “If you’re going to insist on being an obstreperous bratling, then I suppose I could sit with you for a while. You won’t be able to speak yet, so don’t even try.”

The familiar scold settled something within him. The bed dipped and Lucius sat carefully next to him. Cool fingers brushed his hair off his forehead.

“No fever, at least. If you get yourself into a froth she’ll put me six feet under, so we’ll do this calmly, please.”

It felt a bit as if he was a grubby firstie again.

“Would you like to know who found you?” Lucius asked.

Severus assented. Yes, he bloody well wanted to know who dragged him back to life (beyond Cissa, because of course she would).

Lucius’ low chuckle warmed him.

“Potter did. It always comes back to him, doesn’t it? He…I suppose I’d better tell you in sequence. You never liked a tale that hopped about in time.”

No, he did not.

“Did Potter see…what happened to you?”

Severus managed to shrug. He knew Potter saw the aftermath, but how much else was anyone’s guess. Knowing Potter, he saw all of it and had convinced himself it was all his own fault.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. We’re all free of it, you know? Whatever message you gave Potter, he did the thing properly and…came back, somehow. The Dark Lord’s reign is ended and somehow Potter convinced the Ministry that my family was coerced. How, I wonder, would he know I was given to the Dark Lord’s service as tribute by my father?”

The archly asked question had Severus freezing in place. Had Potter found…he had to have found what Severus left. He’d written it all down, everything he knew that no one else did, in the days leading up to the final battle. Trust the nosiest arsehole he’d ever had the misfortune of teaching to ferret it out.

“Ah, yes, apparently he also delivered quite the impassioned speech on the many ways the magical world has failed in the last several generations to the detachment of Aurors about to descend on my home. Thankfully the dossier information kept us from being arrested. I expect I’ll have some questions to answer.”

Severus agreed with that. But oh, what he’d give to see a memory of Potter doing that.

“Apparently, some time in the middle of the night, Potter remembered you and came charging up to the front doors, hammering on them and shouting. By the time we got down to open them, as we’d sent the elf on duty to bed, he’d been joined by the Weasley boy and that Granger chit who were unsuccessfully trying to calm him down.”

Severus snorted at that, but carefully.

“Quite,” Lucius agreed. “As with anything involving Potters, we unfortunately devolved into farce. Potter, who apparently never washed despite battle and being covered in what looked like most of your blood, having hysterics in the entry, shouting teenagers, such a wonderful scene. Granger kept trying to take over and the Weasley kept trying to shove them both behind him. Thankfully, Granger gave Cissa what she needed to know to mount a rescue and Draco got Potter calmed down.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, he got an elf to bring some of that revolting tea you like, sugared it ‘til the spoon practically stood up, and barked at Potter that he’d either drink it or be stunned. Weasley didn’t like that much, but seemed mollified when Potter did as he was told. I confess that I don’t particularly like the way Draco looked at Potter, but I expect I shall have to bear up under whatever Draco tells us.”

Severus snorted again.

“Cissa, Granger, and I went to get you while Draco and Weasley handled Potter. You…Severus, if you ever do anything like that again I will kill you myself. You looked dreadful and it took all Cissa’s skill to drag you back from the brink. Your robes are a loss, I’m afraid. Our laundry elf burst into tears when asked if they could be saved.”

Trust Lucius to focus on something like robes.

“Then we spent the last three days not being arrested and keeping you from succumbing to your injuries. I think Draco has Potter ensconced somewhere. I believe I heard an argument with Weasley and Granger over that. Something about clearly no one else is taking care of him and he’ll let them know when they can visit.” Lucius sighed. “He’s like his mother.”

And, Severus thought, his father, who looked at a ragamuffin firstie and decided that clearly that child was his.

“I don’t want to hear one word from you.” Lucius tapped Severus gently on the nose, a fond smile softening his features. “You need sleep.”

He wanted to protest, to ask for the memory of Potter, covered in gore and having hysterics in the Hall, but he knew a futile gambit when he thought of one. Lucius could be as unbending as Merlin’s staff. He sighed.

“Yes, I know. If you behave for Cissa, we’ll share our memories.”

That would have to do. Severus let himself relax slowly, let the sandalwood and lavender of Lucius and Narcissa wash over him.

Home. They’d brought him home.

#severus snape #snapetober 2023

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intrstellarhearts · 2 years

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✰ the dead poets society ice skating headcanons!

a/n: i tried to find the least heartbreaking "dead poets society winter" image, so PLEASE DON'T BE SAD EVERYONE! THEY'RE ALL OK IN THIS HEADCANON SET I PROMISE :)

✰✰✰✰✰

the idea came to neil in a dream.

swirling snow had cleared to show a frozen lake... THE lake he often spent his time at when it was nice outside, and he just knew.

he had to get the dead poet's society to go ice skating.

it would be tough; he wasn't completely sure how he would even get ice skates. and yet, neil perry was determined that this was what needed to happen.

it was a whole operation too!

meeks and pitts were the perfect men for the job of securing the ice skates.

the two of them were so in tune with each other that they could get in & get out of the storage closet near the gym.

plus pitts has really long arms (at least in my opinion) so he could reach in and grab the skates if they were in a super tight spot.

they were able to get in, take seven pairs of skates, and run out with no consequences.

mission one accomplished.

then there was the issue of figuring out if the lake was actually frozen or not.

though cameron said it was dangerous numerous times, he was dragged outside anyway to watch what was to unfold.

it was on this particularly frigid day that one charlie dalton put on his swim trunks and goggles underneath his heavy winter coat and ventured out onto the lake to see if it could hold his weight.

knox was supposedly ready to retrieve charlie if he fell, but that little shrimp probably couldn't even lift an apple off the ground.

oops

anyways, cameron was ACTUALLY ready, despite him also being less than ripped.

but hey, it's the thought that counts.

lucky for our favorite boys, charlie didn't fall though the ice that day.

in fact, even when he slipped and fell onto the lake, the thick layer didn't so much as crack.

i think we can all visualize neil perry's woops and smile when he realized his plan was actually going to work.

after dinner that night, when the stars were just beginning to show themselves, a small yet steady bit of snow began to fall from the sky.

welton was so peaceful in the winter.

and that peace was interrupted by seven excitable boys jumping around and throwing snowballs at each other.

choruses of laughter followed by shushing repeated numerous times through the long walk to the lake.

they're all bundled up, hats and gloves illuminating red cheeks & noses.

but there is a sort of spotlight on our hero, todd anderson, who has chosen to wear not one, not two, not three, not four (bear with me here), not five, not six, but SEVEN layers of clothing.

there are two pairs of pants, an undershirt, two long sleeve shirts, a sweatshirt, and a jacket.

neil has to keep his arm around him, for he literally can't see where he's going.

charlie keeps running around behind him and smacking the back of his jacket as hard as he can; and todd can't feel a thing.

at least he's warm!

skating proves to be a bit of a challenge. it's not like an ice rink where you can hold on to the side walls.

they have to hold on to each other.

what's this? ah yes. stephen meeks and gerard pitts are strangely very talented at skating, and have already moved quite far from the others, who are having an... interesting time.

cameron is quite a good skater as well, though he occasionally stops with his hands out, moments from a faceplant.

charlie dalton skates like a penguin walks; unsteadily, yet it somehow works. he attempts to spin, and in a cruel twist from the icy winds, falls and slides a few feet before sticking his gloved hand up in a "thumbs up" gesture.

knox overstreet is trying to be elegant, and yet looks more like he is walking, jerkily trying to navigate the slippery surface.

and here is neil perry, our mastermind of this whole trip, trying to convince todd anderson to step onto the ice.

it's not that todd doesn't want to skate. of COURSE he does. he knows that neil wanted nothing more than to do this, and he wouldn't want to ruin it.

but for some reason, he just can't seem to get up the nerve to skate.

he is ambushed quickly by a fleeting memory of his brother jeffrey, gliding across the ice when they were both much younger. he thinks of how he wanted so badly to be like him.

and so, with neil perry's hand in his, todd anderson's skate makes contact with the ice.

it takes a moment, (it always does), and yet he knows that his friends are by his side, ready to catch him.

he looks over to see neil perry's ecstatic face, that smile brightening the darkness of the night. he then sees it change, neil's mouth is an "o" shape as he fumbles to reach for todd, but neil is too late, and he is falling.

but funnily enough, instead of the yelp he expected, he finds himself laughing.

his body lands on the ice, but his head in the snow. crisis averted.

and as he lifts himself, clinging to neil for support, our hero realizes he's not afraid of falling anymore.

#dead poets society headcanons #dead poets headcanons #dps headcanons #dps #dead poets society #dead poets #richard cameron #todd anderson #neil perry #stephen meeks #a lil anderperry wink wink ofc #charlie dalton #gerard pitts #i love the dps with all my heart #they are silly little winter goofballs

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

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To Have and To Heal (Part 5)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin loves his teammates, he really does. They're his brothers in every way but blood. They'll lift him up if he hits a rough patch and keep his feet firmly on the ground when praise from the press threatens to inflate his ego. There's a few of them that are acutely tuned into his moods too, which generally he doesn't think twice about.

Today however, he'd rather be left alone than have Kieran hovering over his shoulder. The Scotsman has been in Martin's shadow all day, a constant presence that he cannot shake. Today is an individually minded training day, each boy following their own tailored regime in the weights room for the first few hours, meaning Martin expected to be able to work off his mixed emotions. But having Kieran so close is grating on his nerves, until finally he can't stand it.

"Mate, can I help you?"

Kieran pauses on his machine, brown eyes wide. "Erm, no? I mean I don't need a spot for leg presses so…" Kieran maintains his mask of innocence despite Martin's hard stare, which only further aggravates him. When Kieran flashes Martin a smile that's all teeth, Martin swears under his breath and resets his machine so he can turn to face his friend.

"Why have you been shadowing me all day? You're like a- a…" Martin searches for the English word, his brain short circuiting. "A flea on a dog's back! I'm trying to work through something here-"

Kieran snaps his fingers and leans forward, "there! That's exactly what I've been waiting for- an admission! All week you've been off mate, everyone can tell. I'm just the unlucky one that got nominated to figure out why!"

Martin rolls his eyes. His lads are busy bodies. If they could mind their own business, Martin wouldn't feel so shitty because he might actually be able to process his things properly. Instead he's ended up more frustrated, because Kieran won't give him an inch to breathe.

Yes, it's true. Martin has been quiet lately, keeping to himself more than usual. He isn't surprised that the team has picked up on it. He hasn't done anything to hide it. He's allowed Kieran to take over team talks instead of himself; anyone with half a brain would recognize his out of character behavior. That doesn't mean he's about to pour out the contents of his wilted heart to Kieran in the middle of a training session though.

"I'm fine Kieran." Martin's response is a touch too firm, causing Kieran's eyebrows to shoot up. Martin draws a deep breath and dials it back, forcing a smile, "really, I'm fine mate. It's nothing I need to discuss, I'm working through it on my own."

Of course, being Martin's best friend means Kieran can see straight through his cheesecloth lie. It also means Kieran can read Martin like a book, thus knowing when it's best to leave an issue alone. So Kieran simply nods, murmurs a soft, 'I'm here if you need me' and continues on with his day.

Once Kieran moves to another machine, the rubber band around Martin's chest eases enough for him to breathe properly. It allows him room to think and reflect. He needs to clear his head… which is part of the issue.

Martin's head is a mess because you muddle his thoughts. It's gotten to the point that he can't walk outside and see the sun without thinking about you, and that terrifies Martin.

He hasn't felt this way about anyone since the day he met Maria. She became the center of Martin's world from the moment he laid eyes on her, only shifting to make room for Atla when she was born. For three years his girls shared equal space in his heart, until fate stepped in and ripped one of them out of the picture.

It took Atla a long time to understand what happened. Martin honestly isn't positive she understands now, actually. The weeks immediately following Maria's passing were the hardest. Each night Atla would ask for her mummy to tuck her in and listen to a story that Martin would read, and each night Martin had to gently remind her that mummy wasn't there. Martin lost count of how many times he'd told her 'Mum's in the sunset now søta, she's watching over you even if you can't see her'. Through it all, Atla rarely cried, thank god- a three year old doesn't truly know how to process grief after all. If Atla had shed tears, Martin isn't sure he would have survived.

For two years, Martin has thrown all his energy into being a father. Anything he has to spare goes into being Arsenal's captain, and he thinks he's doing a pretty damn good job of balancing both. The learning curve was steep, and he still discovers new nuances about being a better parent nearly every day. The fathers on his team have been his backbone, though none of them understand the full weight he bears on his own shoulders. At the end of the day, they have partners to lean on. Martin only has himself.

The scary part is, he's beginning to wonder if he's meant to be a single parent forever. He's found himself caught between a rock and a hard place: continuing to remain a loving, loyal widow, or chasing his own potential happiness. It feels like a betrayal to even consider letting someone new occupy his heart the way Maria had, but at the same time he wonders if it's fair to Atla to allow her to grow up without a maternal figure to guide her. He's not stupid; one day Atla will have questions he can't answer himself, ones that only a woman can answer properly. No matter how much research he conducts or how much he prepares himself, he will never experience the world the same way a woman might.

Is he robbing Atla of a fundamental right, the right to grow up with a mum at her side? Everything he does is for Atla, for his daughter- is he being selfish by cutting himself off from the chance to find love?

"Oi Martin! Come on, we're headed to the pitch!"

For now, his questions will remain unanswered. He has a job to do, and he takes that job seriously. Martin quickly cleans up his mess and wipes down his machine before following the rest of his team outside for some small group drills, which is one of his favorite activities.

Martin leads a round of keep away, passing back and forth in a small circle whilst Saka tries to intercept. It takes his mind off of anything you related, which comes as a welcome realization. Martin laughs with his friends, doubling over to clutch his stomach when Saka falls flat on his back after tripping over the ball. It feels good to be his normal self again, not having to worry about anything except the task at hand.

The end of their session comes sooner than Martin expects. He showers and organizes his cubby, preferring things to be neat when tours come through. Then he makes his rounds to chat with the staff to ensure everyone knows they're an important part of the team in his eyes. Eventually he can't stall any longer and he is forced to head out to pick up Atla from school.

There is a pit in his stomach as he pulls up to the limestone building. Pick up is simultaneously the part of his day that he dreads and that he looks forward to most. On one hand, pick up means he gets the rest of the night with his family. On the other hand, he has to see you, which is both a blessing and a curse.

The gymnasium is on the opposite side of the school but he always parks out front, preferring to walk the halls and chat a bit when he can. Today he chats less, intent on seeing his daughter as soon as he can. He whistles quietly as he walks, smiling when he hears Atla clock his tune.

"Papa's here!"

Martin is already crouched when she comes barreling over to wrap her little arms around his neck to squeeze him in a bear hug. At last Martin feels the remaining bits of his troubles melt away thanks to his daughter. She is the center of his world, and being with her makes him feel at home.

"Hallo søta, did you learn lots today?" It takes everything in him to not immediately look up and meet your eyes. Martin still isn't sure how to act around you; he'd extended an olive branch in the form of chocolates and tulips and he is patiently waiting for you to reciprocate his energy. Until then, he is determined to leave you be.

"So much! I had a fun day- David tried chasing me on the playground but don't worry papa, I made sure he knew I wouldn't let him!"

"She was very adamant," you say, your sweet voice drawing Martin's attention. Your smile is the first thing he truly notices. The next is the way you fiddle with the badge hanging around your neck, and the third is the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

Martin tips his head and speaks before he can filter himself. "Those boots are new, they look nice. I feel like I've seen those in the window at Harrods, no?"

"Oh, um- yes actually, they were an early birthday treat to myself actually. I saw them and couldn't resist!"

Martin would love to unpack that, so he smiles at Atla. "Go clean up your coloring things, lille venn, okay? Go on, don't make Miss. Sunshine clean up your mess!"

Once Atla is out of earshot, Martin stands to his full height and smiles. "Happy early birthday. I suppose I'll have to get you something, seeing as you do so much for Atla."

"Oh, you really don't need to Martin! I appreciate you just wishing me a happy birthday. That's really more than enough."

Martin's heart sings when you address him by name. It amazes him how something as simple as hearing you speak his name can set a flurry of butterflies loose in his stomach.

"I'd like to get you something, if you're alright with that? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable. From one friend to another?"

There it is, another try with the olive branch. Martin silently prays you'll accept it, because in honesty he still isn't sure how he feels about this whole thing and he wants some sort of confirmation that he isn't committing a match-ending foul.

It takes you a minute, but Martin exhales when you nod. "I think that's fine, friends give each other presents all the time… friends also come to birthday parties, yeah?"

Your voice is soft as clouds and your eyes are tentative as they search his face. Martin is certain you pick up on his amazement. You must, because you've stunned him into silence. Martin isn't a man who is silent often.

"Mar?"

Oh, faen. Not that name.

It's as if you reached into his consciousness and plucked out the one surefire way to sink yourself into his heart. He hasn't allowed anyone to call him Mar since his wife had passed because it never felt right. But now? Martin finds himself smiling despite the twinge of bittersweet memories.

"Yes. I'll come if you let me know the details. Friends… friends attend birthday parties, that's a friendly thing."

Martin is falling hard. Guilt gnaws at him despite the excitement that washes over him when you grin, clearly feeling much the same as he is. Your smile quiets the war in his head temporarily, reducing the cacophony of noise to a whisper in the background.

Amazing. Absolutely amazing that you have such an effect on him. He's lived with that noise for years and in seconds, you've dulled it to nothing.

"I'll see you there." You bite your lip and tuck your hands behind your back, which is somehow the most endearing thing. "It's at that same bar you saw me at last month, this Friday. You don't have to drink or anything I promise, I know you have a match on Sunday!"

"I'll be there, I promise." It's as if Martin is seeing you for the first time. The way the sun filters through the skylight and illuminates the gentle planes of your face mesmerizes him. He notes the little curve of your lips that grows the longer he stares. Beautiful with a selfless soul- that's how he'd describe you.

"Papa, I'm all done!"

Atla shatters the moment when she tugs on Martin's sleeve. She's too adorable to be upset with, so Martin gives her a pass and offers you an apologetic smile which you accept with a wave of your hand. Martin scoops up Attie with little effort, propping her on his hip and kissing her rosy cheek.

"Say goodbye to Miss. Sunshine," Martin prompts, smiling when Atla does just that. "I'll see you tomorrow," he adds, that same smile playing on his lips.

"Tomorrow for sure, and then Friday evening."

"Wouldn't miss it, søta."

**********

"Kieran, I need you to watch Attie on Friday."

"Uhh sure mate, what for? It's pretty short notice, but you're lucky I don't have anything planned."

"Shut up mate- if you had plans you wouldn't let any of us hear the end of it."

Kieran drops his weights to the padded floor. The resulting thud rumbles through Martin's bones, "Okay, for one, that's harsh even if it is true. And second, why am I watching Attie? I mean I love her and I have no problem doing it, but what's so important that you'd leave her with me?"

Martin knows he can be honest with Kieran. He's probably the one person who won't ever judge him. Regardless, Martin wants to keep this secret for a little longer, at least until he sees how Friday goes.

"I'm just going out with some friends. You're sure you can watch Atla? I can make you up a list of what to do."

Kieran chuckles, "Mate, it's not my first time watching my goddaughter. I got this! Bedtime is eight on the weekends, no television an hour before bed, and… Friday isn't a bath night so that makes my job easy! I'll plunk her down with a set of coloring books and some blank pages and we can go wild, it'll be fun!"

"Alright yeah, that seems fair. Just don't let her have too much-"

"Sugar, yes Martin I am aware!" Kieran waves a hand flippantly, "I know what I'm doing like I've said! Just have some fun doing whatever secret mission you've got, you need to loosen up a little."

"I do not-" Martin begins to snap, but then notes Kieran's amused smile and stops himself. Martin forces himself to breathe and unwind before finishing, "I do not need to loosen up, I'm doing just fine thank you."

"Sure mate if you say so- you're just going out with 'friends' that aren't at Arsenal, nothing odd about that!"

Again with Kieran being annoyingly perceptive. Martin is beginning to think having a best mate is more trouble than it's worth. Kieran is lucky Martin loves him because in the end, having Kieran around is more beneficial than it is a nuisance.

Once a time for drop off is agreed upon, the two part ways. Martin only has two days to come up with an outfit that's acceptable for a night out but also doesn't scream 'I'm trying to show off in front of all your friends', which is a struggle. Considering his closet is filled with basic t-shirts and designer jackets with no real in-between, he'll have to head out after training and buy something.

The only issue is Martin has no clue what's what when it comes to fashion. Kieran at least has some sort of idea of what's trendy and looks good…

Martin sighs and heads back over to Kieran, "Mate, are you free tonight to help me shop?"

"Shop for what?" Kieran feigns innocence as he finishes up his set of curls. "Food? Because I'd think you pay someone to do that for you. At least that's what most of us lads do!"

"Don't make this hard for me, you know what I mean Kieran." Forcing Martin to voice things he isn't ready to is like pulling teeth. Not only is he reluctant to do so, but it's also incredibly painful and Martin would prefer to keep it to himself. And for some reason, Martin feels oddly protective over you, as if letting Kieran know it's you he's going on a pseudo-date with will allow Kieran to sweep you out from under him. For now, Martin feels safer with a cloak of mystery to protect him.

Kieran clears his throat and drags Martin into the present. "Right, sorry mate. I'm free and I'd be happy to help you shop for something to wear- you'll have to give me some details though? What sort of place you're going to, as a bare minimum. I can't have you showing up to a steakhouse in Dunks, you know?"

Martin nods. That much he is comfortable sharing. "It's just a club, so nothing fancy. I just don't normally do casual? So I only have really casual, and I don't think that's appropriate. I'd like to impress the people that are gonna be there."

Kieran nods, thinking for a minute. The grin that lights up Kieran's face has Martin's head racing with thoughts of what the Scotsman might be up to.

"I know just the place, mate. Bring your credit cards cause it's gonna be expensive!"

**********

"Babe! What did I tell you?! Don't get involved with him- and you just straight up went against everything I said!"

"I know I did Jen!" Your pacing is nearly wearing holes in the circular orange carpet in the center of her room. You've walked the perimeter of your self-imposed prison cell at least a dozen times in the past ten minutes whilst enduring a well-deserved lecture from your friend. "Look, why can't I be friends with him? There's no rule against that in the ethics handbook is there? I'm just fostering positive relationships between myself and the parents of my students!"

"Oh, that reads like a textbook. Babes, you know why you can't do that. You'll catch feelings! Hell, you caught feelings for that writer at the Starbucks down the street for your flat and you never spoke a single word to him. You think you can be friends with Martin 'I'm the best looking single dad ever' Ødegaard and not feel a thing?"

Was it a foolish decision to invite Martin to your birthday gathering? Obviously. It isn't your fault that he's too damn charming and irresistible. You hadn't expected Jen to be over the moon with your idea, but you had crossed your fingers in hopes of her supporting you.

"Okay, maybe I made a mistake-"

"You think?!"

"-but realistically what's the worst that could happen? Technically Attie isn't my student, so there's nothing that says Mar and I can't be involved."

Jen rakes a hand through her hair, her blue highlighter leaving a streak behind. "I mean technically you'd be fine, but if the other parents found out, who knows what they'd do? The entire school is filled with Mum's constantly lusting over that man- all it takes is one of them getting a touch too jealous and spreading some terrible rumor for things to go ass over tits."

You hate it when Jen is right. The fantasy you cooked up in your head is much more favorable than the reality she's just whacked you upside the head with. You deflate, finally ceasing your feet long enough to sit cross legged on the carpet.

"Look Jen, I don't even think he's interested in me like that anyway. He's got this trauma, I can see it in his eyes- he just feels… broken hearted. I think he needs a friend to lean on, someone outside of Arsenal. Like a new perspective, you know? Maybe I can be that for him."

At this point, you're grasping at straws to invent a reason why this is a semi-acceptable idea. In truth you're being selfish, wanting to see if you can sus out how Martin feels beneath that steely armor he wears. You can chalk it up to your teachers instincts; seeing people struggling silently isn't something you can sit by and tolerate without trying to help. You don't have it in you to watch Martin continue to come in and paint on a happy face for his daughter when you've noticed flashes of something much more troubled beneath the surface.

"For the record, I hate this idea."

"I know you do, Jen. But you going along with it is exactly why I love you." You hold up one finger, pleading with your eyes for her to hear you out. "One outing, that's all I ask. You'll be there the entire time to keep me in check, totally supervised and everything."

Jen shakes her head, taking her time in answering to ensure her discontent is well noted. "I'm only doing this because I love you. One outing- and I'm not letting you drink until he's gone. You get all touchy when you have tequila and I know that's what you'll wind up having."

You break into a cheek-splitting grin that is impossible to hide even if you wanted to, "that's a deal. Have I told you I love you?"

"Not nearly as often as you should, considering how much I risk for you on a daily basis. Now go home and pick out an outfit, let me grade in peace."

"Trust me, I've got just the thing in mind."

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #arsenal fc #footballer fic #footballer fanfiction #footballer fluff #footballer imagine #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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noxcorvorum · 26 days

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Do you have any horror podcast recs

I liked tma and old gods of Appalachia but I'm caught up and need to BINGE

hello! youve come to the right place :)

Ghost Wax feels kindof similar to tma, especially tma season 1, with the main character (Owen Voncid) taking statements of people who've encountered the supernatural. However, Owen is a necromancer (the last Reclaimer!) who briefly reawakens the dead so that they can tell their final story, and all of the statement givers are dead. He also has an assistant, Luca Eso, who made the wax cylinders that he uses (he's been around for a very long time, and the remembrances are beginning to slip from his brain) and is a pop culture nerd. They work with a seer, Pip (or Phillipa Le Fay, to respect the stagecraft), who uses her grandmother's tarot cards.

All three of these people work for the Order of Hamsa, which fights the supernatural. Hamsa are incredibly powerful entities who have magic such as geomancy and necromancy, and usually inhabit a human body, though generally not for an incredibly long amount of time. There are several Hamsa in this podcast, including Owen. Owen has remained in his body for much longer than usual. Some other characters I enjoyed are Emea, the apiarist as well as Owen's best friend and a Hamsa, Cosa, the android librarian/archivist, and Azem, who is very thoroughly haunting the narrative. Don't look away.

I absolutely love this podcast, its easily in my top three. There's several incantations/spells which are so fun to me, found family, and really fun sound effects. It has 46 episodes as well as 2 Tales from the Vault, which are filled with smaller stories (I submitted a story to the second one!), there's content on patreon, and season 2 is in production.

Malevolent is about Arthur Lester, a 1930s private investigator from Arkham, Massachusetts, and the voice in his head and his eyes. Episode 1 opens with Arthur coming to on the floor of his office, suddenly blind, a strange entity speaking to him, and his business partner dead on the floor. Arthur and John, as the entity comes to be named, must now figure out how to navigate the horrors, try to find a way to separate themselves, and figure out where John came from. There's lots of cosmic horror/lovecraftian influences in here, and they have so many miles to go before they sleep.

There's a LOT of audio gore/squishy flesh sounds/Arthur screaming because the horrors love ripping into him, so if that's no good then this podcast is not for you. Some of the more eldritch characters also have voice filters, most notably John, which could make them hard to understand, though there are transcripts available. the plot can also be a little hard to follow sometimes.

I really enjoy this podcast, I'm currently relistening to it and having a great time. It's kindof forced family? because Arthur and John physically cannot get away from each other and yet they Have To communicate. They're so so much "its rotten work" "not to me, not if its you" AND "its rotten work" "especially to me, especially if its you, ill do it but christ alive". It's currently 42 episodes at usually 40ish minutes each, and still going, with new episodes releasing mostly monthly. There's also one voice actor, everyone sounds similar because it's the same guy.

Hello from the Hallowoods is a post apocalyptic show about identity, grief, family, and survival. It's formatted as a radio broadcast by an entity named Nikignik, who narrates everything. There is one voice actor for the majority of this show (save for the occasional character speaking outside of Nikignik's broadcast), and they do an amazing job, especially considering the amount of characters.

Some of the characters I really enjoy are Diggory Graves, a nonbinary frankenstein's monster with knife hands and a leather jacket, Percy Reed, a transmasc piano ghost, Riot Maidstone, the lesbian punk daughter of a rockstar, Olivier Song, a genderfluid cloud witch, Ray, a ghost possessing an automobile, Moth Scarberry (moth/mothself), Ray's adopted kid, Walt Pensieve, the asexual groundskeeper of the Hallowoods, and Polly, a devil in a floral suit. Some of the antagonists include Lady Ethel Mallory, a gaslight gatekeep girlboss of a marketing specialist for an evil corporation and the Instrumentalist, a religious fanatic who keeps killing people and turning them into instruments. Darker than your dreams, and farther north than you remember, the Hallowoods loom.

Each episode has a different theme based on the title (such as Keys, Names, and Bones), and is split into several different stories that follow different characters as Nikignik jumps around. There's not very many voice filters, because Nikignik is doing the voices himself, though I think there are a few, and transcripts are available. There's 145 episodes at usually 30 to 50 minutes each, and a new one releases every wednesday.

Sidenote, the Instrumentalist is *really* religious as well as homophobic and transphobic, and he regularly misgenders/deadnames a trans main character. He only exists in the show for about 50 episodes, and definitely gets what he deserves.

The White Vault is a found footage podcast with the first two seasons comprising a repair team's trip to Outpost Fristed in Svalbard. They go up to repair some damaged equipment as well as look at some weird readings, and then have to wait out a massive storm. They find a hatch in the auxiliary bunker, and explore the tunnels beneath to find a village beneath the ice. Theres Graham Casner, the survival guide, Walter Heath, the repair technician, Karina Shumacher-Weiß, the geologist, Rosa De La Torre, the medic, and Jónas Þórirsson, the representative of the company sending them. Travel is not advised.

I listened to the bulk of the first 2 seasons at 2 am while playing powerwash simulator, and it made me so incredibly anxious that I had to have my back to a wall *in the game* so nothing could sneak up one me. Highly recommend. There's so much fear and helplessness surrounding what could be hiding in the storm and in the ice, and I absolutely love the concept for the antagonists.

Seasons 3 and 4 are about a different team in Patagonia, season 5 checks back in at Svalbard, and season 6 is somewhere else entirely. 3-4 are pretty alright in my opinion, maybe a bit repetitive as it follows a similar pattern to the first two seasons, but I don't hate them. I think 5 is pretty good, though it has my favorite character in it, so, you know. I think 6 goes in a bit of a different direction, though I'm not caught up so I can't really comment on it. Seasons 1 and 2 are absolutely stunning, though.

The creators and cast of seasons 1-2 also have a horror dnd podcast called Dark Dice. I must admit I haven't finished the first campaign, though I really liked what I did listen to. I'm told the second campaign has Jeff Goldblum in it, and has 2 different parties with one hunting the other, though I haven't listened to it yet, so take that as you will.

Jar of Rebuke follows Dr. Jared Hel, a cryptid scientist with amnesia in a small Midwestern town, and perhaps closer to the cryptids than they realize. They're also immortal, and (for a reason I don't remember at this particular moment) he has to wear a key around his neck, and never take it off. I'm not caught up, though I really liked what I did listen to. There's lots of fun cryptids and supernatural happenings, such as Jared getting a hellhound as a pet. The episodes are about 10-20 minutes each, and it's ongoing.

As someone on tiktok so aptly said, if you have trust issues with your therapist, you probably shouldn't listen to this podcast. Jared is manipulated by their therapists, and we sometimes hear them talk about him like he's a test subject or creature, not a person.

Do You Copy is another found footage podcast surrounding Redtail National Park, which more or less contains an area called the Dead Zone, in which technology doesn't work and other spooky stuff happens. The Dead Zone has a possible imminent ecological disaster, and though the park is evacuated until the emergency is over, there are a couple people still inside. These include two ghost hunters, a hiker and their dog, and two park rangers who have been instructed to stay inside in hopes of hearing from the three others. I found the Dead Zone and what lies inside VERY interesting, both from a horror perspective and a speculative biology/ecology perspective. It is finished at 14 episodes.

The Hyacinth Disaster is a space horror found footage podcast, and easily in my top three (the other one on that list is tma). It is set in 2151, when Jupiter and Mars have been colonized, and the asteroid belt is being mined for resources. There are two main mining companies in the show, Halaesus Mining Co in Lagrange 4, Greek objects, and Lykaeon Minerals Corporation in Lagrange 5, Trojan objects. The Corvus, a ship contracted to Halaesus and ordered to survey and harvest an asteroid in Lagrange 5, was captured by Lykaeon and held for ransom, and Halaesus denies the ransom broadcast is true, unwilling to pay. The skeleton crew of the MRS Hyacinth has gone rogue in the slowly dwindling time limit to survey a possibly incredibly valuable asteroid, hoping to pay the ransom themselves. But they are 6 people manning a ship meant for 53, and there are so many things to go wrong.

Conlin Hynes is the captain of the Hyacinth and is a good friend of Ember Roth, the captain of the Corvus. Con isn't the greatest captain, not by a long shot, but he's incredibly loyal, and maintains a talented crew. Famke Hynes, or Blue, is Con's sister, and the captain of her own ship, the Sibirica. She would have been the captain of the Hyacinth had she won the rock paper scissors match when they first bought it. She's returned to the Hyacinth to run comms for her brother as they bring Ember and her crew home, and to blow things up along the way.

Finch is Con's wife, and doing an admirable job at being an one-person engineering and seismology team. She's doing her absolute best with the equipment they have that corporate refuses to replace or reapir. Dreadnought in exosuit 2 is by far the youngest of the crew at 24. He's a surveyor, and in fact surveyed Saniss 130991, the very rock they're at, himself. He saw the potential and purposefully misfiled it, hoping to make a bigger profit if corporate didn't know about it, and told Finch, who told Con, and now they're all here.

Grimm is in exo 4, one that he bought himself and has carefully maintained. He refuses to tell the others what he's named it. He moves around a lot, as he gets bored of jobs quickly. Seems like a hardass, but he's actually a pretty nice guy. Argus in exo 7 is one of Con's best friends, having worked with him and Grimm on several jobs. He's a pretty optimistic guy, and follows Grimm as he moves from job to job. His lucky object of choice is a surprise tool that will help us later.

There's lots of angst and horror but also lots of comedy. I've seen a couple reactions that thought there was too much comedy for the situation, but personally I really enjoyed it. It's 7 episodes long, at about 2.5 hours total. There's a lot of sound effects for the ship controls that could potentially be irritating, Dreadnought's dialogue is full of static and sometimes difficult to understand because his radio is partially broken, and there's a loud, extended, high pitched static sound often in the first few episodes (It's when they activate the squealer device, it lasts for about 10-15 seconds each time and there's a countdown from 5 right before), so if you have issues with mechanical/static sound effects, this probably isn't for you. There's transcripts for episodes 1-4 on the website, along with a database of more information about the world.

I'm so so normal about this podcast, I have a note full of facts and trivia (Ember was voted into captaincy by her crew, and according to dreadnought, the ratio of greek names to jovian objects is about 1 in 50,000), my senior quote was from here, I've relistened to it so many times. I cannot recommend this enough.

Among the Stars and Bones is another found footage space horror, but this time it's about anthropology and alien technology. The format is mission files being sent back to the company from a large team investigating an abandoned alien settlement. There's about 7 different perspectives, one from each branch of the team (xenoanthropology, IT, etc).

I really enjoyed it the first time I listened, there were a lot of good anxious moments. A couple of my favorite characters are Dr. Celia Pannella, who heads the xenoanthropology section, and Ben Kelleher, who heads the xenoarchaeology section. I found the alien science/speculative biology really really interesting.

Given you liked tma I'm assuming you know of The Magnus Protocol, but if you don't, it's pretty much Magnus but in a civil service job instead of archiving. It has such characters as Colin the longsuffering IT guy, Alice, who is coping with the horrors by ignoring them, Needles, and Chester and Norris, two text-to-speech voices who we have definitely never heard before (/s).

It has 10 episodes plus an Easter/April Fools special, and it's on a break until April 11th.

Mabel is a podcast about ghosts, families, secrets, and connections. Anna Limon is a carer who has been hired to take care of Mabel Martin's mother Sally. The house is odd, the house is alive, and the house is hungry. Anna is unraveling a mystery as fast as she can find the thread, and Mabel, having grown up half-feral and half-faeral, is somewhere under the Hill.

I will admit I haven't finished this show, but I would definitely recommend it. I actually had to restart it because I wasn't expecting to be as invested as I was. It is very much a faerie story, with riddles and all.

The Silt Verses is a story about faith, and what people will do to keep it. It follows Sister Carpenter and Brother Faulkner as they travel upriver, looking for revelations of their outlawed god, the Trawler-Man. There's a whole cast of gods, many of which are capitalistic, and most of the ones that are not have been outlawed. Some examples are the Trawler-Man of the river, the Waxen Scrivener of decay and books, the Saint Electric of radio and electricity, and the Cairn Maiden of graves and death.

I'd say it has semi similar vibes to Old Gods, mostly with the many deities and monsters. I'm only about halfway through it, but I'd definitely recommend it.

Hope you find something you enjoy!

#long post #podcast recs #podcast recommendations #horror podcasts

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