#zone four motel

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

5 Times There Was Only One Bed (and the one time there were two beds) | Bucky x Reader | One Shot - 4.7k

Whether it's on a mission, a work event or a holiday, your sleeping arrangements never seem to work out as planned. It doesn't really bother you until...it does. Confronted with a night sleeping apart, you and Bucky finally talk.

Warnings: 18+ for language, suggestive situations and sexism (but not from our Bucky he would never). Also rated F for fluffy and S for snuggling.

Written for the @bucks-and-noble Valentrope event - "there was only on bed" the reigning champion of tropes!

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Fics

Your first mission with Bucky Barnes went really well, until it didn’t. 

After successfully destroying an underground Hydra base you’d returned to your transport in a less than desirable state. 

“Fuck, four flats.” You huffed, poking the tyre with the toe of your tactical boot. 

“Fuel line’s been cut.” Bucky muttered from the front, “lucky they didn’t torch it.” 

Bucky quietly rubbed a gloved hand over his face, before looking up at the admittedly stunning night sky, he seemed to study it for a moment before making a quarter turn to his left and climbing up a ridge of sandy rock. As if dazed you followed him. You could see for miles thanks to the glow of a full moon, the stars dense and glittering above you both. It was almost romantic, if you didn’t have blood on your cheek and an empty gun on your hip. 

Bucky still looked like he could sweep you off your feet though, with his structured tactical vest making his broad shoulders look even wider, his wind swept hair giving him the look of a romantic hero on the front of a paperback, especially with one foot perched on the outcrop of rock above you. 

“Let’s go.” He pointed towards a glow rising from beyond the horizon and you’d started walking, doing your best to keep up with his long strides. You could see the motel, how far could it really be.

As soon as you climbed down the motel vanished and the reality of your trek set in. 

Around hour two Bucky slowed his pace to allow you to catch up. He didn’t speak much, just what was necessary, and sometimes a hello when he saw you around the compound. But he struck you as shy, rather than cruel or rude. He had checked on you after the mission brief two days ago to make sure you were happy with the plans and, when you were left at the drop off zone, had given you a few of his spare rounds. 

You were starting to flag, your steps faltering in the dust and your fingers frozen. Without the sun the desert was so cold the tips of your ears felt like they’d fallen off. Bucky slowed too, cracking a heat pack and handing it over, swapping it for your pack. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, teeth chattering. 

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a tight smile and turned back towards the motel, growing closer with each step. 

Three hours after you’d discovered the flat tyre, you fell through the door of the dingy motel room, exhausted, cold and starving, only to be met with the sight of one queen size bed and a single chair by the window. 

“I’m gonna sleep,” you slurred, unable to manage more than zipping off your tactical vest. You fell onto your back and tried to toe off your boots but they were too tight. Your eyes slid shut and you felt the sensation of Bucky sitting on the other side of the thin mattress, making you roll towards him slightly. His weight shifted and settled, the warmth of his body behind yours comforting after everything you’d seen that evening. 

He smelt nice too, despite the blood and sweat and gunpowder, he smelt like sandalwood and the desert air. It was all you could think of as you drifted into a deep sleep, how much you wanted to press your face into his back and breathe him in. 

The  next morning you woke to find Bucky already showered and dressed, pushing his damp hair back from his face and brushing his teeth while he called Torres for new exit plans. 

Your boots and socks were off, arranged neatly by the door, a coffee steaming on the bedside table.

Despite all the changes a new team had brought, Bucky liked working with you. You were quiet too and didn’t mind when he was silent for almost a whole mission. You were efficient and skilled, but empathetic, always stopping during the fall out to ensure the team were together and protecting civilians whenever you could. 

So it was no surprise to him when you offered to share the bed at the hotel. Sam and Joaquín had long since retired to their room, but you’d both stayed at the hotel bar, silently emptying a bottle of red wine while Bucky continued his 100 Books to Read Before You Die list and you scrolled through your phone, catching up on everything you’d missed during the five day - “phone’s off, and yes, I mean you Agent” - mission. 

As soon as you retired to the room you knew there’d been a mistake. 

“Ah, shit.” You’d dropped your bag to the floor by the door and Bucky had almost walked into your back, peering over your shoulder at the very neatly made double bed. The only bed. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take the couch.” Bucky had sighed, resigned to a night of lumpy, uncomfortable sleep. 

“There isn’t one.” You pushed your bag further into the room with your foot and Bucky brushed past to survey the space.

“The floor then.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, the bed’s big enough for two, we can share.” 

You’d said it with such easy grace that he’d felt almost insulted that his chivalrous offer was so easily deflected. Then you’d returned from the bathroom smelling like mint and almond oil, your loose pyjamas hanging off one shoulder and just like that, he gave in. 

By the time he’d change and brushed his teeth you were already asleep, holding a pillow close to your chest with your leg well over onto his side of the bed. Carefully he moved you back to your side and slid under the cool sheet next to you. 

He woke first the next morning to find you still attempting to occupy the majority of the bed, your face relaxed and mouth slightly open. Bucky indulged in a moment of quiet comfort before getting up. You wouldn’t want him staring at you, you’d be embarrassed that you were trying to cuddle him and it’d ruin the fragile bond you were forming with each mission. 

By 9am you were both making fun of Joaquín’s terrible hotel bookings over pancakes and coffee. 

“Why can’t we just ask for directions?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” 

“Yes?” 

“Because we just crossed a border illegally, we have no papers, no passports, we’re lying low.” 

“They’re hardly going to ask to see our passports, Bucky.” You sighed, hitching your bag higher on your back. 

You’d been walking since 5am that morning, crossing through a forest trail to avoid borders and rendezvous with Torres in a village that should have been a few miles away so that you could evac together. 

5am seemed a long time ago now that the sun was setting. You’d stopped briefly to heat up a can of beans, a “late lunch, early dinner” Bucky had called it, smiling at you over the steaming mess tin you were sharing.

The scalding heat had dissipated now though and you were tired. The memory of his hand touching yours as you ate still lingering. 

“We’re not going to find him tonight, we should stop.” Bucky suggested, “I’ll find a good place to camp.” 

Suddenly you were grateful that Mr Overprepared had packed a tent. 

“Good idea.” You agreed, rubbing your hands together. 

“Well, I will be, you didn’t bring a tent, did you?” He said, walking deeper into the woods, running his foot over the ground, looking for somewhere flat. 

Your heart sank, he was right, you’d laughed at him when he’d attached it to his already full pack and he’d said you’d regret it, a teasing look in his eye. Well. You were regretting it. It had started raining a few minutes before, gentle rain drops that got heavy in each gap between the canopy. You had no doubt it’d be heavier soon though, and with the sun setting you didn’t relish the idea of being wet and cold out in the dark. 

Bucky stopped and turned, lowering his pack to the floor between two large trunked trees and those twinkling eyes made butterflies take flight in the pit of your stomach. A boyish grin crossed his face as he got to work. 

Ten minutes later and the tent was up, strung between the trees and extra protected with some fallen foliage. 

Bucky unlaced his boots and placed them between the inner and outer tent before climbing in, when you didn’t follow he poked his head back around the flap of the tent, patting the unrolled sleeping bag next to him. 

“C’mon, you really think I’d make you sleep out there?” He was almost laughing, and the sound was so welcome, so stupidly content despite your situation, you could barely stand it. 

You squeezed in, using the inner fleece layer from your coat as a blanket. Bucky lifted the side of his sleeping bag. 

“C’mon,” he mumbled, eyes already closed, when you hesitated he tugged you closer until you were tucked against his chest. He rearranged your coats on top of you both until you could feel your fingers again. “Warmer?” 

“Yeah, thanks, Bucky.”

He didn’t respond, his breathing heavy and even, beneath his sweater you could hear the steady thump of his heart as it lulled you to sleep in his arms. 

Bucky hated these stupid events, he’d only been persuaded to come because you’d done those big round puppy dog eyes and said it’d be no fun without him. Joaquín had asked too and, although Sam had joked that it’d be more fun without ‘Mr Grumpy’, Bucky knew he’d only been teasing. 

But it was you that had convinced him. It was those eyes, the way your voice had gone up a little and you’d pouted in that silly way you did when Joaquín took the last doughnut at mission briefings. He couldn’t resist. And he had no idea what to do about it. 

Behind him he could hear another team talking about you, how they didn't understand why you were always working with ‘that asshole Barnes’ so much. 

In the anonymous dark they joked about you, about him, as if you were a reward for a guard dog. A babysitter for his more violent tendencies. Worse, disgusting, accusations about how you'd come by your place in the team. He suddenly missed his mother, she'd have washed their mouths out with soap.

He felt sick. 

Bucky took a long swig from his beer and chased it with a shot of whisky, anything to stop his teeth from grinding. 

They were wrong on so many counts. You were skilled and fearless, soft and fierce at all the right moments. But you didn't care about him, or Sam or Joaquín for that matter. Not in the vile, disrespectful way those men imagined. You didn’t men like them - him - messy, unpredictable, unstable. You didn’t really need anyone. 

But Bucky - he took another swig, trying to stop the swirling feeling in his chest - he cared for you. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And as angry as he was at what he heard, he was equally ashamed for wishing that you did want him. 

He’d been watching you dance with Joaquín and one of your other agent friends for more than an hour now. Your body swaying and rippling in time to the music, your dress ghosting over your hips in a way that made his mouth dry. It was one thing to work with you in army fatigues or go to meetings with you in your casual jeans - the stealth suit had been really pushing his patience recently so he didn't want to think about it - but he could at least keep himself under control while your skin was covered. Then you arrived wearing this dress. The neckline alone made him want to sink to his knees in front of you. 

Joaquín danced away with your friend, you winked at the lieutenant and smacked his ass as he passed - you were definitely drunk. 

Alone you swayed to the music, still in your own world.

“She’s so fucking drunk -” 

“Absolute embarrassment -” 

“Can’t believe they let her in -” 

Bucky slammed his drink down on the bar top and grabbed his leather jacket, stalking across the dancefloor like a shadow, the lights skimming over him. 

You were facing away from him and he couldn’t resist, his hands finding your waist so naturally, his body melting into yours, matching the slow roll of your hips so he could lean into your ear. 

“I think it’s time to go,” he whisper-shouted above the pounding music. 

“Bucky!” You exclaimed, completely ignoring his suggestion, “dance with me!” 

You span in his hands, leaning up and into him, your hands around his neck, twisting into his hair. The little tug you gave sent pleasure shooting down his spine. God he was weak, his body moved without his say so, slipping a leg between yours and - fuck - you were grinding against him. He was lost. 

The song ended, fading into the next as the lights flickered and he regained enough of his faculties to remember you were drunk, very drunk. 

“C’mon, doll, let’s go, I’ll get you some water-” 

“You still here, sweetheart? Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.” 

Was he still here? Fucking asshole. 

Bucky rounded on him, keeping you close with a hand around your waist. 

“You boys having a good night?” You grinned, unable to hear their cruel words over the music. 

You were just so - good, so kind, even when these pricks were trying to tear you down, your first instinct was to be friendly - he couldn’t stand it. 

“I said -” the agent grinned, dipping down, placing his hands on his knees and levelling his face with yours, that patronising glint in his eyes, “are you still fucking here you stupid bitch?” 

Bucky saw red, tucking you under his left arm, pushing you behind his back as he had so many times during missions, and smashing his right straight into the agent’s nose. 

“Didn’t your Ma teach you to speak to ladies with respect?” 

Blood dripped onto the dark dance floor, a circle forming as the other party goers backed away. 

Bucky gave the man one last disapproving look and then his attention was solely focussed on you, leading you out past the crowd until you were outside in the freezing air. He draped his jacket around your shoulders and watched as you snuggled inside. Was he dreaming or did you inhale deeply when he did it? 

“M’sorry, Buck.” You hiccupped, leaning into him, eyes half shut. 

He took your weight gladly, “s’okay, you didn’t do anything wrong, it was those idiots in there.” With staggering steps you made it to the next street over and Bucky said nothing as he unlocked the door. 

“Where are we?” You slurred, your ankles twisting in your heels with each step. 

“My place, I thought you could sober up here while I call you a cab to get you back to your hotel.” 

He settled you on the couch and tried to walk away, but there was a hand hooked in his belt loop. 

“F’got you live in Neewww York,” you closed your eyes, resting your head against his hip as you continued to mumble about ‘the big apple’, he willed himself to breath deeply, he was struggling to keep his body under control. 

“Yeah - what’s your hotel called?” 

“You called me ‘doll’,” you giggled, your fingers closing around his belt.

“I did, sorry, it just slipped out. Your hotel?” 

“Dun worry, I liked it - can I stay here? I sleep here.” You let go, only to curl up on the sofa, your dress sliding up your thighs. 

“Sure.” He sighed. 

Bucky scooped you up again and nudged the door to his bedroom open with his hip, the duvet was still rumpled from the night before. Another night of no sleep, at least it was because of you and not another nightmare. And now you were here, nose pressed into his chest, ready to sleep in his bed. 

“Okay, I’ll be out here if you need me, g’night.”

“Stay.” 

“I’ll be right outside if you need-” 

“Stay.” 

And it was those puppy dog eyes again, the pout, the voice, the hand on his belt. 

Even though he knew you’d sleep like a log, hogging his duvet and encroaching on his space, even though he knew you’d be embarrassed in the morning, probably hungover as hell. Even though, come the morning, he was right. He still had the best nights sleep he’d ever had since he bought the place. 

You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time, you were sure if you stood up you’d simply melt into a puddle. Sun warm skin, the buzz of a few too many afternoon beers in your system and the sound of laughter as Sam, Joaquín and Bucky continued to try and catch a single fish had lulled you into a half sleep, dozing on the deck of the Paul & Darlene 

“Hey, you want another beer, doll?” 

Bucky’s voice drifted over to you and you cracked one eye open. He’d unbuttoned his shirt half way down his chest, the white cotton sticking to his sweaty, sunkissed skin. He hadn’t been able to drop the nickname since he'd had to rescue you at the gala. Although you'd done your best to keep yourself away. The way his eyes burned into you when he turned your way, the memory of his body imprinted into yours, his leg pressing against you, the shadow of a hardness that made your mouth water. 

He'd been the perfect gentleman, of course. Had made sure you were safe and comfortable, even escorted you back to your hotel in the morning after a huge home cooked breakfast. 

He was a gent. And you were an embarrassment. It ate away at you until you couldn't even look at him. 

“Hmm?” 

“Beer?” He asked again, holding out the bottle, the cap already popped off. 

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” 

He flopped down beside you on the deck, the last of the day fading beyond the horizon and leaving you bobbing in the inky abyss where the sky met the water. 

“You feeling okay?” He took a swig and you watched the condensation on the bottle trickle over his fingers. 

“Oh, yeah, fine.”

“You look dazed, that's all, don't want you getting sunstroke on us.” 

Bucky looked genuinely concerned and you figured, from the sudden sick feeling inside, that maybe your heart had skipped a few beats or flipped over or something. 

“Uh -” Fuck, did he have to leave his shirt open like that? He asked a question, what was it? 

“Are you okay?” He used the back of his right hand and placed it against your forehead, “you feel really hot. Maybe you do have sun stroke.” 

“I’m fine, honestly.” You shrugged him off, but went looking for a bottle of water anyway. 

As the boat made its way back to the dock you watched the lights of Sarah’s house flicker on in the distance. Sam had invited the three of you to stay, taking up all of Sarah’s space and the room on the boat, while her and the boys went into the city for the night. It was a generous offer, one that you couldn’t say no to after months of hard work without a break. 

In the pitch dark you all stumbled back up the driveway, only to find Sarah on the porch. 

“Sarah -” Sam jogged to reach her first, concern written on his brow. 

“I’m alright, Sam, don’t fuss. It’s just Cass, ate too many beignets and threw up so I thought we should come home. He’s upstairs with AJ. Sorry we messed up your plans.”

Bucky took the suitcase from her hands, “it’s your home Sarah, you haven’t messed up anything.” 

She threw an arm around his shoulders and hugged him sideways, a familiar gesture you’d seen her make before, but for some reason your tummy twisted, jealousy stirring. 

“Means we’ll need some rooms back though, I know I said you could all stay but-” 

A chorus of voices filled the air, refusing to let Sarah apologise, before you started to get organised. 

“Well Cass needs his own bed, that’s a given.” You said, worried that the young boy might be ill as well as over excited about his food. 

“Of course,” Joaquín agreed. “Sarah, you’re obviously taking your room too. We wouldn’t ask you to give that up. I’ll go on the couch in the sitting room.” He smiled. 

You looked between your other two colleagues, but Bucky spoke first. 

“Well if Torres’ taking the couch I’m not going to argue, I’d rather be in a bed even if it is on a boat.” He ruffled Joaquín’s hair affectionately and the younger man shoved at him. 

Sam looked at you, “you can take my bed, if you want, I can change the sheets -” 

“I’ll sleep on other sofa -” 

“You’ll share with me, right doll?” 

The three of you spoke at once, and Sarah raised her eyebrows then her hands before opening the front door, “I’ll be in bed, you kids figure this out yourself.” 

“Bucky -” Sam started. 

“Sam - we’ve shared before,” there was a glimmer of hope that glowed inside of you when Bucky stepped closer, his shirt fluttering open again in the breeze, revealing his toned chest and that dusting of dark hair, creeping under the buckle of his jeans. “Besides, wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made us share, would it?” Bucky joked, nudging Sam as they went to collect more blankets and bedding, “what about that hotel-” 

His voice faded until all you could hear were the crickets in the distance, you’d forgotten about Joaquín until he walked past, turning backwards at the last moment so he could see you again, “if you don’t want to share with Barnes…” he let the offer hang in the air and you were torn.

Really, you should protest and ask for your own space. But then you’d missed the sound of his steady breathing beside you, the weight and warmth of him when he turned over into your space. In fact you’d missed him completely, even if you’d been avoiding him on purpose. 

Secretly you hoped the bedroom on the boat would be cooler now the sun had gone down, perhaps he’d hold you like he did while you were camping. 

Sam let you back onto the boat, making sure you had enough blankets for two distinct sleeping arrangements if you wanted. 

Bucky slid into the cool cotton sheets in only his boxers and, shyly, you followed. Expecting to sleep alone you’d packed shorts and a vest, revealing more than you really wanted to considering he clearly didn’t return your interest. 

Bucky kept politely to his side of the bed, his arms awkwardly stiff at his side when he turned away from you. Unable to stop yourself you turned too, watching the strong line of his back relax as his breathing evened out.

The boat bobbed gently, lulling you to sleep. You were vaguely aware of a strong arm tugging you closer, the smell of Bucky’s shampoo and sun cream and the weight of a bed rising to meet you. 

Everything went perfectly, again, until it didn’t. 

Intelligence? Secured. Exit? Executed to perfection. Adrenaline fueled burger stop where Bucky wiped a drop of sauce from your lips exactly as you planned? Complete. Motel booking? Perfect?

You and Bucky stared at the two motel beds. 

In the entire time you’d been working together you’d never really managed it. There were either no rooms, the room was wrong or there was no room at all, just whatever you could find. And now there were two beds and you felt sick and your head hurt and after everything you’d seen and done today the last thing you wanted to do was sleep alone. 

“Doll?” Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back and reality came screeching to a halt around you. 

“Sorry, Buck, I must be really tired, I’m going to shower and get in bed. Do you mind if I go first?” You were already half to the bathroom, the zip down on your tac suit, were you imagining Bucky’s eyes dropping down to where your skin was revealed? 

“Of course, whatever you need, I’ll just be…here,”

After a perfunctory shower consisting of a dribble of hot water that quickly turned into a freezing cold torrent, you returned to the shared room. 

Bucky hurried past, his body brushing against yours in the doorway, firm and muscular, yet you knew that being held by him was soft and warm. You tried not to feel too sad that there’d be no excuse for getting close to him again for the rest of your trip. 

By the time he was finished you were tucked into bed, trying to read the paperback you’d found in the draw because the television signal was terrible. 

He stood in the window, a shadow against the light filtering in through the thin material of the curtains, ruffling his wet hair with a towel, his sweatpants so at odds with the man who’d been by your side just a few hours before. This was a rare sight, one you were privileged to see. 

Bucky tossed the towel onto the chair by the door and then sat on the end of the other bed, watching you read from the corner of his eye. You knew because the last three paragraphs had become a blur of words, your focus solely on Bucky. 

“Maybe we should go to sleep, we’ve got a long drive tomorrow.” 

“You’re right.” 

You both slid down into bed, separately, and you’d never felt so alone. 

In the darkness you could see the shape of him, facing the door with his hand tucked under his pillow, and somehow the darkness made you braver. 

“Would it be weird if I said I missed you?” You whispered. 

Bucky rolled over, but put his hand back under his pillow, no doubt he had something hidden under there, he usually did. 

“I miss you too.” 

You shuffled back, letting the sheets fall further down the bed, “I know you have your own space over there and you probably don’t want to be all cramped up with me, but if you wanted to share still -” 

Bucky was out of his bed before you could finish, slipping under the sheets. He’d taken off his sweatpants before getting into bed, his legs bed warm against your own and you bit your lip, trying to focus on his face and not on his almost naked body just inches away. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, doll.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that.” 

“What if I want to?” 

He was so close, his breath minty when it ghosted over your lips, his nose touching yours, his long eyelashes making his crystal eyes look brighter. 

“What if I missed you being in my bed? What if I always want to share with you?” He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek. 

“You do?” 

And then his lips were on yours, so soft, his tongue slipping past yours as you gasped. One cool metal hand and one callused, drawing you closer, a leg between your thighs, your bodies rolling together and - “oh, Bucky.” You sighed into his mouth, letting him tug you into him. 

“I - I want that too -” you squeezed out between kisses, “I wanna always - always - be in your bed - I - I always hoped we had too.” 

“You did?” He pulled back, stroking a thumb down your cheek and over your kiss bitten lips. 

“Uh huh, I did,” 

“You been sabotaging us this whole time, baby?” He laughed, his eyes sparkling. 

“No,” you laughed too, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb, “maybe I should’ve though.” 

“Maybe,” his hand left your face to cup the back of your neck, drawing you down for another languid kiss. 

“How long?” 

“How long, what?” 

“How long have you wanted -” his question trailed off into another series of featherlight kisses. 

“Since, ugh - Utah?” You offered shyly, embarrassed to admit that you’d been head over heels from the start. 

With a groan he rolled you over, slipping his body between your open legs, his hips settling just right against your own. “Fuck,” he dropped his forehead to yours, “we could’ve been doing this the whole time.” He admitted, lifting his head to smile down at you. 

“Well then I guess we have some making up to do,” you linked your hands behind his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

“I guess we do, doll.” 

[bettyfrommars]

A little something inspired by this edit by @somnambulic-thing of what I imagine as a version of a mechanic!Eddie, but he's also biker!Eddie to me, or anything you want.

mechanic!Eddie x Reader

18+Only, secret work crush, gender neutral reader, just some yearning fluff with mention of weed and alcohol, bit of slut shaming, some sage advice from Wayne.

word count: 1.7k

Eddie had been staring at the door to the office and zoning out for a while when you opened it to step into the bay, and his unblinking gaze accidentally lingered at your midsection.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced down at your outfit, thinking maybe your zipper was open or something worse. There were three other mechanics besides Eddie there that day, each of them knee deep in the hustle and bustle of the busy season.  A boombox on one of the tall, red cubbies blasted hard rock while an electric drill buzzed.  

His attention snapped back to the bolt he was crouched down to tighten on the rim of a Ford Bronco.  

“Nothing,” he grunted, cranking the ratchet so that the muscles on his tattooed bicep bulged. He had on his signature summer uniform of black coveralls with the sleeves ripped off.  His hair was tied back in a pony with a navy-blue bandana on his head, making it easier to slip his welding helmet on and off.  “I didn’t know you were working today.”

Now, that was a big fat lie.  Spotting your car in the parking lot when he came in every morning was one of those things that set his day right.  You’d taken Thursday off the week before, and he’d moped around in a bad mood for the entire shift.  

Almost four months you’d been working in the office, and he still hadn’t summoned the nerve to ask you out.  Instead, he drank too much after a show at the Hideout one night and ended up letting some random chick crawl all over him.  The next day, the guys he worked with would make it sound more serious than it actually was.

“Soooo Munson, I heard you got lucky with Deep Throat Dana last night. They say she can suck an orange out of a tailpipe!” 

And then the entire shop broke out into wheezing laughter like a bunch of hyenas, as if something funny was said.

It made him cringe, and he cast a side glance to see if you were within earshot.  “Nothing happened with that girl,” he wanted to say to you.  “We kissed, but I just couldn’t…ya know?”

But also, why did he feel the need to explain himself to you? It was as if he was being faithful to a dream.  You’d never give him the time of day out in the real world.  Sure, you knew just how he liked his coffee, and you asked him questions about DnD and his band as if you were interested.  But, you were just being nice—he could tell.  At first he thought he was special, but quickly realized that you treated everyone the same.  You were, in fact, a thoughtful, likable person.  Surely your only interest in him was as co-workers, nothing more.  

Also, he could hear Wayne’s voice in his head: “Don’t shit where you eat, son.” 

It was his uncle's long-standing advice to never get involved with a coworker, and Eddie just happened to agree.  If he was ever lucky enough to take you on a few dates and then you dumped him or broke his heart, he wasn’t sure he could work at the garage anymore.  On the bright side, he also had a CDL to operate heavy equipment, so maybe that would be his cue to become a long-haul trucker.  

Deep breath Munson, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

You hesitated in the doorway for a beat with Mrs. Chadwick’s paperwork for the Oldsmobile sedan in your hand, wanting to ask Eddie how his day was going.  But then he sank down onto the creeper and rolled under the vehicle as if to avoid you in a hurry.  

You really didn’t know what to make of him. 

One second, you’d be certain he was flirting, but then later that day, he’d huff out the door without even so much as a wave. He’d tease you about things, like your collection of random motel pens or the music you liked, and then you’d give the energy right back and wait for that gremlin smile to spread across his face. 

The other day, he’d left your favorite candy bar on the desk for you to find.  You knew it was him because he was the only one in Hawkins you’d told.  How the topic of sweets came up, you weren’t sure, but you’d never forget the curious narrowing of his eyes when he asked which one you liked best.

You had this strange feeling that he was secretly studying you.

The other night you were sitting across from your friend Tina, having burgers and beers at The Hideaway, when Eddie just happened to breeze in.

Your heart stuttered, whatever you’d been saying dying on your lips, completely losing your train of thought. The vinyl in the booth squeaked as you craned your neck to watch him. That was the first time you’d ever seen him in street clothes without coveralls on, and it was raining, so his long hair was soaked.  He greeted the woman at the cash register, and you were too far away to hear, but apparently he was there to pay and pick up his takeout order in a big brown sack with greasy handprints on it.  You thought about waving him down to ask if he wanted to join the two of you, but he did his business in a hurry and didn’t seem to want to be noticed.

“What’s going on?” Tina asked, gaze darting from you to the Dio patch on Eddie’s back as he exited the building.  She munched a french fry before wiping ketchup off her lip.  “Did something happen between you and Eddie?”

You snapped a look at her.  “You know him?”

“Well, not intimately,” she ate another fry.  “But I went to school with him, and bought weed from him a few times.”

“He sells weed?” You cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised.

“It’s been like, a while, but maybe he still does.  How do you know him?”

“We work together,” you brought the half-eaten burger up for a bite and paused there.  “I think he hates me.”

“I highly doubt that.” And then she stared pointedly at you when she said, “he’s cute,” with a knowing smirk. 

“Ha,” you adjusted the napkin on your lap. “Well, as you know, I plan to stay single for the rest of my life.”

“Sure, sure.”

When it got closer to 6 that day, you scrambled to get off the phone with a customer, worried Eddie might slip out again and you wouldn’t see him for the entire weekend. After hiding in the supply closet for a full minute to avoid Phil—one of the other mechanics who liked to talk your ear off—you finally made it to the break room, panting as if you’d just run a marathon.

Eddie was there, bent over to snatch a Pepsi out of the vending machine.  Freezing in place, you suddenly forgot how to form words.

Eddie felt like an idiot, like for sure you’d caught on to the fact that he’d been finding shit to do for the past half hour just so he could be there to have some private time with you.  He didn’t like the idea of you closing up the shop by yourself, especially now that it was getting darker sooner. 

And then fucking Phil wouldn’t leave. His wife had relatives visiting, and he was shuffling around like a sad puppy trying to avoid going home.  Eddie had to pretend he needed to take a shit just to get rid of him, and was halfway surprised the dude didn’t follow him into the bathroom.

He usually brought his own lunch, but the snack and soda machines were always tempting.  He knew how to open the damn things up and thought about doing some last minute grocery shopping to make up for his crappy wage.  

You cleared your throat.  “So, what are you up to this weekend?  Any fun plans?”

Eddie pulled his shoulders back and spun around at the sound of your voice, fisting the can in one hand and running the other through his hair.  He’d been growing his bangs out, and they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  The length was so fucking annoying at times that he’d often considered chopping them to nubs.    

You were smiling at him, eyes bright and sincere, and it made him feel all fuzzy inside like his brain was made of cotton candy.

“My day was good. You?” That was what came out of his mouth, and then he let out a silent, internal scream that made his ears ring. 

But he recovered quickly. “I mean, I don’t have any plans.  I don’t usually have…I mean, my buddy Jeff and I might go see a movie, but not like major plans.”  He didn’t want to tell you he was taking a trip out to Rick’s on Sunday to beef up his supply for weekly customers.  He sure as hell couldn’t restore the van on the chump change he made at the garage. 

You stared at him intently, softening when you realized he was nervous.  

How could that be?  Did you make him nervous?

You pulled a folded piece of paper out of your back pocket and held it up.  “I found this at the laundromat.  It says your band is playing at The Hideout on Tuesday.  Is that still happening?”

Pinched between your thumb and forefinger was one of the handmade fliers Gareth had helped him make.  

“Well we…yes-–” he cracked open the lid of the soda and it fizzed everywhere, dripping down his arm and onto the linoleum floor. “Shit, I’ll clean that up, don’t worry.”

He didn’t want you to get stuck having to get the mop out to clean again, so he put the leaking can down on the lunch table and went over to grab something to wipe it up.  

He busied himself with sopping up the mess, albeit poorly, while you inched closer.

“I think I might stop by and check you guys out,” you saw that his face was red when he stood, chocolate orbs lit up in anticipation.  “Maybe we could have a beer or something after?”

His cotton candy brain tried to filter his next thought, but it was too late.  “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” You blinked a few times.  “Is your band playing somewhere tonight too?”

“No, but I—” the tip of his tongue slipped side to side between his lips.  “If you’re not busy tonight maybe we could go somewhere to eat or drink or hang out or something.”

“Or something,” a grin quivered in the corner of your mouth. 

And then the two of you were just standing there, close enough for your breathing to fall into sync. Gathering up a nice helping of nerve, you reached an arm out and ran the back of your knuckles down the front of his shirt.

Eddie was vibrating.

Don’t shit where you eat, son.

No disrespect Uncle, but fuck the job.

“Anything," he said softly, hope blossoming in his chest like those wildly palpitating hearts in cartoons.  “Anything you want.”

[rotthepoet]

Come Home (Dark!Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

Notes; DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Dark!Matty has been plaguing my mind and I need an outlet omg. I lowkey rewrote some lore for this, so essentially the battle of Hogwarts takes place but Voldemort's influence still lives on through Mattheo, who basically runs the new Knights of Walpurgis(The slytherin boys). Everyone is evil, all good business. 

Warnings; again, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Dark!Mattheo, Murder/death/gore, stalking, kidnapping, mattheo might highkey be ooc but its fine, dubcon(reader REALLY wants him but like.. morals?), oral(F! And M!), mention of fem masturbation, predator/prey dynamic, spitting, degradation, lowkey breeding kink?, piv, lowkey porn with plot, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, at least he kinda gets a redemption arc

This one goes out to my beautiful @nottswitch i hope dark!mattheo comes to life and fucks us both <3

Word count; 6.3k

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

The bitter breeze in the frigid air pricks through my thin shirt as the diner door swings open and shut again as a customer disappears into the icky black of our winter night. I stare out after him, a farewell unspoken on my lips as I cast my gaze towards an orange, flickering lamp post lining the parallel street, and I realize how truly cold it is inside the shabby eatery. 

As I tug the embarrassingly short, mandated skirt I'm forced to wear, I can only think of the comforting and safe walls of Hogwarts, my home only months ago, yearning for the soft crackle of a fireplace and the ambient chatter of portraits lining the walls. The muggles had nothing as interesting, nothing as familiar as the light of the silver moon passing through the large windows of the great hall. Nothing as comfortable as my own home back in England, with my mother and fathers smiling faces. Nothing as comfortable as the safe, unscarred arms of the once-kind boy I loved what feels like so long ago. 

Being on the lam for about a month now, I've been skipping towns and laying low where I can. It’s not often, but when I'm able to stay in a town for longer than a week, I take pitiful muggle jobs, my current being to take orders at a local diner, “famous for their milkshakes”, although fame must mean four regular visitors in this nowhere town. 

Jean, the gray-haired woman who owns the diner I work at, leans over the counter and points at the analog clock hanging on the wall. It reads almost 1:30, and it finally sets in how tired I am. She hums and looks me up and down, standing in the middle of the floor, standing stiff as a board while holding a broom. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, a small smile gracing her aged face. 

“I’m sorry, I zoned out.” I apologize, leaning the non-flying broom against a nearby booth, and smooth out my wind-swept hair. 

Jean just shakes her head, “Go on and head home. You did good today.” she hums in approvement, tossing me my room key that was previously hanging on a hook in the kitchen. “Be careful out there, the papers said another storm is coming.” she warned, but a storm is the furthest thing from my mind as I push open the door. Silver light flashes across the street and my heart nearly stops beating, a pit forms in the bottom of my stomach. My eyes squint, finally adjusting to the lack of light, catch the face of a mannequin in the window of a shop. I let out a breath I don’t realize I’m holding and relax as I realize the moon had simply caught the silver details on the faux person. I turn on my heel and carry on down the dimly lit pavement towards my motel. 

It’s just as run down as everything else in this town, water stains stretching across the ceiling like swatches of muddy paint, and the hideous carpet crunches underneath my feet. It isn’t much. It is nothing, in fact, but a roof over my head and sanctuary from the ruthless dangers outside. 

I drop each article of clothing from my body onto the yellowing tile of the bathroom floor, stepping into the freezing cold water of the shower. I shudder, goosebumps racking through my body as I allow the water to wash away the grease and sweat, I collected today. I run a baby blue loofa over my skin, suds washing away with the now lukewarm stream. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, and the smell of metallic rust from the old pipes fills my nostrils. 

Blood. So much blood. It covers my hands, and my knees, my face, and my clothes. I practically wade through a pool of it, the dark hallways of that god awful manor stretch on infinitely, and the smell of rot and decay suffocates my senses. My heart nearly beats out of my chest as his strong arms wrap around me as I collapse to the floor, and I'm hyper aware of the many motionless bodies lying at my feet. His lips brush against my neck, rough and wet, and I wonder if they have blood on them too. I wouldn’t put it past him. Malicious is not a word I thought I would ever use to describe my lover, the man I thought I was going to marry one day, but like many other things before, he proved me wrong. His warm hands caress the soft fat of my thighs, slipping underneath the loose fabric of my shorts, and he leans into my ear. “They’re all gone now… Let’s go take a shower.” 

I release a shaky breath and turn off the water, letting it drip from my head and down my face, mingling with salty tears. Wiping my face with my wet palms, which did nothing in retrospect, I sigh. I can’t go back there; I can never go back there. It isn’t safe anymore. He isn’t safe anymore. Come on, I can’t keep feeling bad for myself. This is ridiculous, and as I step out of the shower and dress myself, I feel a newfound sense of determination. Sleep, for the first time in months, finds me easily with her warm embrace. 

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

As most things in my life do, my high spirits came to an abrupt end. Smoke fills my lungs, but there's a strange taste to it. It’s not a fire, no, it was tobacco. A smell I was all too familiar with. I sat up in bed, and my eyes met the inky black eyes of his silver, skull mask. My breath catches in my throat, only for me to cough out the smoke from his cigarette.

He couldn’t have found me this easily. It’s a bad dream, it has to be. Merlin forgive me, God save me, tell me this is just a dream! The mask on his face shifts a little, clearly amused at my coughing fit. “Have anything to say?”

Say anything. Stop gaping at him like a fish, you are a powerful witch, almost top of your class in DADA. Almost. Second place, notably. Right behind him.

Mattheo Riddle.

A sob racks through my body, tears falling down my cheeks before I even realize, and I’m paralyzed in place. Half of me wants to crawl into his arms, to beg for forgiveness, to beg for him to take me home. Home to that wretched, dark house, with blood seeped into the wood. With blood-stained grout on the kitchen tile. With blood-stained walls. So, so much blood. The other half of me screams at me to run. To run, to run, run, run, RUN! For god's sake, run! 

I push myself out of bed, fast enough to catch Mattheo by surprise. He flicks his cigarette to the side, letting it roll along the carpet floor. My hand reaches for my wand resting on a table beside the door as I duck out of his reaching arms, and I stumble to my feet as he lunges after me. I throw open the door, pulling it shut in his face as he screams for me.

“You bitch! Come back here!” he screams through the wood, struggling with the now sweat-slick doorknob. 

The door splinters open with the blast of, “Bombarda!”, but I scramble down the wet, cold streets, my bare feet scratch against the rough pavement as I sprint, thankful that it had been just warm enough to not freeze. I duck down another street, pulling out my wand to apparate elsewhere. I rack my brain for a safe location. Hogwarts? I might be able to, but I don’t want to risk splinching. My job? It might separate me long enough to get my shit together. 

Air is knocked out of me as a heavy body slams into mine, knocking my wand out of my hand. A heavy, black boot pins my wrist to the ground, and a silver mask that was not Riddle’s leans over me. He laughs under the mask, but I can’t tell which of his mentally fucked goons had caught me. I reach for my wand, but another set of boots kicks it out of my reach. Leather gloved hands grab my hair and lift me up to face the group now circling me. 

“She looks pitiful, really. Like an angry kitten.” An Italian accent draws next to my ear with a mocking snicker, and I thrash to kick Theodore Nott anywhere I can, luckily landing a solid blow to his shin. He curses in pain, and hisses something inaudible underneath his mask as he throws me back to the ground. The rough concrete scratches against my exposed skin, drawing blood from the soft flesh. I yelp in pain, landing at the feet of someone else. A black, steel-toed boot presses against my cheek, pushing my head to the side as I watch another figure ominously approach. I would recognize my Mattheo’s casual amble anywhere, and he peered down at my stray wand laying at his feet.

I don’t even have time to protest as he steps his boot onto the wood, sparks fizzing out around the magic object as it snaps under his weight. A choked sob escapes me as he approaches, my eyes wide with horror and betrayal.

“Enough of this, love. It’s time to come home,” He drawls, kneeling down to my level and lifting my chin to meet his empty gaze. “Be a good girl and come back to me, I’m tired of this little game of yours.”

“Fuck. You.” I spat on the silver of his skull-like mask, noting the wild look in my own eyes as the saliva slips down its reflective surface.

Mattheo groaned and tugged off his mask, and my breath caught in my throat. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t think this awful man who betrayed me, threatened me, hunted me down, can still be attractive. Then again, he was still the man I had loved–part of me still does love– all those years ago. The handsome face I fell asleep looking at, the doe eyes I found comfort in. He looked roguish now, his brown curls were longer than the last time I had seen him, and he had a new scar running across his cheek from our last encounter. My mouth goes dry as he leans into my face, his breath hot against my lips. 

“I’ve missed you, love,” He practically purred, pressing his dry lips against my trembling ones. I whine against him, wriggling my body underneath the heavy weight of whoever was holding me. 

Mattheo groaned, gripping my chin harder, “You used to be so obedient, pet, but don’t worry. I’ll fix you.” he mumbled, kissing my forehead as I felt his wand pressed to my temple. He mumbled an incantation against my skin, and I felt my body go limp before my eyes closed themselves, and sleep consumed me. 

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

It was cold, damp, and reeked of copper and mold. My body laid on the floor, sore and unresponsive to my will to move. As my senses came back to me, I tried climbing to my feet, but a chain tugged my ankle back to the floor. I tumbled to the stone floor, scraping my hands against its rough surface. I whimper in pain, and only as I go to wipe my hands on my pants do I realize I’m completely nude. Horror racks through my body as I take in my surrounding and own appearance. I know I'm back in that old house, that old, disgusting, horrible house of horrors, and tears fall from my stinging eyes again.

I don’t know how long I laid on that floor, shaking from the cold as I sob into the air, screaming and cursing with conviction, damning Riddle’s name to an eternity in hell. I scream, and wail, and cry until I tire myself out, my voice breaking into nothing but a hushed plea for freedom. 

I fight sleep, sitting myself against a wall near my chain, breathing deep into my burning lungs. My eyes drift closed, but I will them open as the loud creak of a door alerts me. It’s only then that I notice a stairwell, casted in a white light with the newly opened door, and my heart nervously skips a beat as a tall shadow approaches the stairwell. The stairs creak under his weight as he descends to what I can only infer is a basement, and I stare up at his form.

Mattheo wasn’t nearly as scary like this, dressed in black slacks and a loose white shirt. Had he not been so threatening, and the reason I was chained to the basement floor, I would have swooned over the top buttons being undone. Perhaps I still do get butterflies in my stomach, but that may just be nausea. 

He looks down at me with an expression I can only describe as mock sympathy, clicking his tongue softly. “Down here for less than three hours and you’ve already managed to hurt yourself,” he scolded me, shaking his head in disappointment, “My clumsy girl, what am I going to do with you?” 

The smile he cracked made me want to claw his eyes out, or kiss him, and I worry that he may have slipped me a love potion. My ears ring, and my head suddenly aches with a mild pain, and Mattheo smirks.

“Like the shirt, do you?” He teased, kneeling down to my level. I curse under my breath, face heating up with anger (Or embarrassment, I can’t really tell), of course I forget he’s a legilimens. “Drop the act darling, I know you’re going to crack eventually. Save us both the trouble so I can finally bring you back to bed.” His warm hand tenderly caressed my cold cheek, and I fought the urge to lean into the comforting touch. “I hate seeing you down here like this, but you need to remember your place.”

My eyes snap back to his, and I whip my head to the side to bite his hand. He scowls and rips his hand away, reeling it back and back-handing me across the face. It knocks my breath out of my chest, and the rings on his fingers cut my cheek. Metallic blood drips to the floor. 

“Fine. Stay down here and bleed out for all I care.” He snaps, rubbing his sore hand as he turns on his heel and storms up the stairs. The door slams loudly behind him, and I’m engulfed in sudden darkness.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

My cheek and hands had long stopped bleeding the next time he came back, staining my skin red with its slick. My head lifts as the door opens again, and light makes my eyes dilate painfully. Mattheo trudges down the stairs, his head hanging low, and a small white box hanging from his hand. He approaches me and kneels at my level. I meet his gaze, glaring into his soft eyes.

“Darling, you know I didn’t mean to hit you, right?” He mumbled, holding my chin to twist my cheek towards him, his rough actions bringing tears to my eyes. “I was just so worked up, and you were pushing too many buttons, you’ll forgive me, right?” He asks hopefully, but I don’t answer him.

He sighs in defeat, opening the little box and retrieving a cloth and bottle full of a clear liquid. My eyes go wide, and I scramble backwards as far as the chain allows me to. “No, No, Mattheo please don’t-” I plead, heart racing as he looks at me with confusion.

A smile breaks across his face, “Oh darling, no, no, it’s just alcohol.” he laughs a bit, a deep sound that makes pleasant shivers run down my spine and too an embarrassing heat between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? He approaches me again, dousing the cloth with the solution before taking my hands. He shushes my soft whines as he presses it to my scraped palms, which makes me hiss at the burning sensation. “Good girl, there we go. That’s much better, isn’t it?” he asks as he takes a roll of gauze from the box and wraps each of my hands. He lifts my palms to his lips, pressing a storm of soft pecks and kisses to the gauze and skin. My face heats up at the gesture, and I force myself to look away. He was always so chivalrous for a monster, though it hurt to call him that even after everything.

He presses the cloth to my cheek next, his thumb tracing calming circles into the opposite cheek. “Such a pretty girl, my pretty girl.” He whispered, placing a bandage over my skin. Just like my palms, he kisses my cheek, though much slower and intimate this time. “I don’t want to hurt you, you know?” he promised, leaning over my trembling body. He looked down at me, eyes drifting past my collarbone, and he whistled softly. “A sight for sore eyes… and It’s all mine.” He smirked, leaning down as he supported his weight on his forearms. His chapped lips press suspiciously soft kisses to my neck. A loud thud coming from upstairs makes Mattheo groan and pull away. He looks down at me, wide eyed beneath him, “I’ll be right back, love, don’t worry your pretty little head.” He hummed, patting my cheek as he stood up. 

He casts me one last yearning glance before he shuts the door again, much softer this time. I lean back against the stone, releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and try to ignore the wetness between my thighs as I drift off to sleep.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I’m startled awake as the basement door slams shut, and heavy footsteps descend to my prison. Mattheo storms into view, and before I can even get a word out, he grabs me by the hair and pulls me up to my knees. He sneers down at me, and my head is spinning from the sudden switch up.

“Incompetent assholes. Have to do everything myself around here,” He mumbled, not really speaking to me rather than himself. He doesn’t loosen his grip on my hair as his other hand tugs apart the button of his slacks. 

My eyes go wide with shock, and he pulls my hair, forcing my chin up to look at him. “Open your mouth,” He demands, his voice lacking his previous warmth, and I'm reminded that this is not my Matty. My lip quivers and I shake my head slightly. Mattheo pulls his half-hard cock from the confines of his black briefs and pulls me by the hair to his tip. “I don’t have time for this attitude, I said open your mouth.”

I don’t even have a moment to react before his leaking tip is pressed against my mouth. He pushes his way past, groaning as my wet lips engulf his mushroomed tip. He pulls on my hair again, forcing himself further into my warm hole. “There you go, not so hard, was it? Now suck.” He orders in a tone I’ve never heard him use in bed before, and as he bucks his hips towards my face, I whine in protest while the ache returns to my lower stomach. My jaw relaxes on its own, familiar with the girth of his hung cock. An almost inaudible whine slips through my throat, and he groans at the tightness. One more tug lets me know his patience is running thin, and I reach my bandaged hand up to stroke the rest of him while I focus on his tip.

Mattheo bites back a moan, his hips stuttering as I descend further down onto his length. His leaky tip presses against the back of my throat, and he holds my head in place while he rocks his hips further into me. My nose presses against his groin as he slips down the back of my throat, and his grip moves from my hair to my throat, feeling my neck bulge with every movement. Saliva drips past him and down my chin, dribbling to the floor in thick droplets. He shudders as my throat tightens around him, nearly swallowing the head. 

“Yeah, yeah… Fuck baby. Keep going for me, almost there,” He mumbles, rocking his hips faster than before. I whine around him, my own hand slipping down to the ache at my core. My fingers gingerly brush against my clit, and the soft moan I try to let out makes Mattheo’s head roll back. Hot spurts of his seed shoot down my throat and my glossy eyes go wide at the feeling.

“Swallow,” Is all he says, and obediently, I do. He pulls my head off of him, his cum mixing with the drool in my mouth when it drips down my chin. He grips my face between his index finger and thumb, collecting the mess with a swipe of his finger and pushing it back into my sore mouth. “All of it.” 

When I satisfied him, he pushed me back to the ground, and I yelped in pain as I collided against the stone surface. “When I come down here, I want you on your knees waiting for my dick. Understand?”

I nod weakly, and he smirks down at me. “Good girl. Keep it up and maybe I’ll bring you back upstairs.” He says, before pulling back up his pants and running a hand through his hair. 

When he leaves again, I’m left with an unbearable, wet mess.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

With nothing else to do in my makeshift prison, I sleep a lot. And when I wake up, I force myself to sleep again. I sleep God knows how long before the door opens again, and Mattheo trudges down the stairs. I scramble to my knees, honestly fearing what might happen if I disobey him, and when Mattheo catches sight of me, he smiles. 

“There’s my pretty girl.” He hums, holding a platter with a bowl of something steaming, a slice of some sort of bread, and a bottle of water. My stomach growls as its divine aroma fills my senses, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten. 

Mattheo sits down in front of me and puts the tray between up. He rests his elbow on his knee and leans into his palm. “Eat,” he orders me, gesturing to the platter with the wave of his free hand. “Or would you prefer I feed you myself?” He asks with a smirk, watching how I shift from my knees to rest on my hip. I grab the water bottle first, chugging half of it in one go, before I subconsciously offer him a sip. What’s mine is his. Was his. Was. I look up at him, taking the water and sipping from it. I tore my gaze away before he noticed.

“I don’t want to stay in the basement anymore,” I mumble, dipping the bread into the soup before taking a bite, shivering at its deliciousness. Mattheo sighed and shook his head. “You know I can’t do that yet. You ran away, darling. I can’t trust you won’t do that again,” He explained, reaching his hand across the way to rub my knee soothingly. I sigh and push the tray away, my appetite gone. Mattheo frowned and moved the tray away, leaning over me. “Princess, c’mon, don’t be this way.” he hummed, pushing me onto my back. My heart rate quickened, and he definitely noticed. “But you’re right. I’ve been neglecting you… That’s why you ran away right? My poor girl was lonely and scared.” he hummed, pressing his lips to my collar bone. “Not anymore. My attention is solely on you, I promise.” 

My head rolled back a little, lolling onto the floor as he trailed his kisses down my sternum, stopping at my breasts to gently knead them. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I reached for his hair, tugging gently on his loose curls. He groaned in response, his lips finding my perked nipple and taking it into his warm mouth. His other hand slipped down my soft stomach, dipping between my thighs. Out of reflex, I squeezed them together, and Mattheo parted from my tit. He sat back on his haunches, using his strong, scarred hands to pull apart my thighs and admire my glistening, needy cunt.

“It’s been all about me, huh? Need to show my girls some love.” He mumbled, before dipping his head down. His warm breath fanned across my puffy lips, and I shivered at the breeze. He didn’t waste a second more, drawing a long, needy moan from my lips as he licked a long strip from my hole to my clit. My hands tangle into his hair again, and my mouth falls open with pleasure. “Fuck, Matty–” the nickname fell from my lips without a second thought, and he practically purrs against me. His hands grip my thighs, pulling them over his shoulders as he dives nose deep into my pussy. My back arches off the floor as a string of curses flies from my lips. I feel his wet appendage push against my hole, and I clench at the feeling as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. I tug on his hair again, “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” I mewl, my edge fast approaching as Mattheo swirls his tongue over my clit. He sloppily makes out with my lower lips, pulling me closer to the edge with each passing second, and I’m in near tears when there's a loud crash up above us. 

Mattheo practically roars in anger, pulling his soaked face away from my aching cunt, the knot in my stomach loosening at the sudden separation. I whine and sit up, trying to pull him back down, but he stops me with a firm hold on my wrist. “Stay here and don’t make a sound.” he ordered, “I need to take care of this, and I promise as soon as I’m done, I’ll come right back.”

Anger flashes through me, and I bite back my cries. “Don’t you dare leave me like this, Riddle.” I snap, and he gives me a warning look that makes goosebumps prick at my skin. He leans in, pressing a wet kiss to my lips, and I can feel him shiver as I lick my own arousal from his lips. “I’ll be right back, princess. Be good for me, and we can talk about a reward.”

And with that, he left yet again.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

I was starting to get sick of his mind games, switching up his attitude, finally giving me relief before ripping it away from me. Fuck. What am I saying? I watched him murder dozens of people; I watched lives being taken right in front of me. I shiver at the memory and try to focus on anything else before it becomes too much to bear. 

I hate how he makes me feel. Sometimes he’s my Mattheo, and sometimes he’s nothing but a parasite attached to a face I can’t help but love. My back hits a wall, and I can’t count how long he’s been gone. I miss his warm, familiar touch, but anything was better than the cold, dark basement. I close my eyes, my lip trembling as I reach my hand down, fingers hesitantly spreading my folds. Cold air hit my wet lips, and I gasp at the feeling. I brush my fingertips against my hole, whining softly at the pleasure that coursed through my body. Maybe I'm sick in the head, maybe I hit my head too hard one day on the run and never recovered. Maybe I never really hated Mattheo. 

What is wrong with me?

I don’t move when the door opens again. I glare at him, anger coursing through my veins. This was not ‘right back’. As Mattheo’s black boot lands on the stone floor, my mouth goes dry. He’s weaning that stupid mask again, and that stupid costume, tilting his head stupidly at me. He approaches me in a way that makes my heart race in fear, like I'm nothing but cowardly prey between the jaws of a large wolf. 

He knees down, retrieving his hand from his pocket. Wordlessly, he unlocks the chain around my ankle, and he looks up at me. With another wave of his wand, I’m dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. It’s not much at all, but it’s better than naked. A rush of emotions rushes through my chest, and I almost gratefully throw my arms around Mattheo, but he stops me. 

“Go. Run,” He orders, stepping aside. I stare up at him in confusion, mounted to my spot on the ground. “I said run, little pet, like you want to.” He pulls me from the ground, pressing my cold body up against his comforting warmth. “Run, and if I catch you,” he leaned down into my ear, and through the skull mouth of his mask I could feel his breath fanning across my ear. “Well, I think you know what’s going to happen.”

I still don’t move, wondering if he would be less harsh if I stayed with him, but he only laughed. “Such a good girl, don’t worry,” he pulled his mask up just enough to expose his pearly white teeth. They sunk into the soft flesh just beneath my ear, “I’ll always find you. Go, now.”

I don’t know what possessed me, but my feet started moving on their own. I raced up the stairs of the basement and pushed past the door. The house was just as I remembered, dark with walls that were too tall, black cloths hung over the complaining portraits. I was disoriented in the dark, but my feet carried me through the house until I found the overtly large entrance. I pushed open the doors and ran out into the cold, snowy night. 

Frost nipped at each of my limps, and my lungs found it harder to breathe the frigid air. I ran anyway, out towards the woods surrounding the manor. I cast a glance over my shoulder, finding Mattheo staring back at me through the blacked-out eyes of his mask. I ducked into the tree line, just as he started his casual stroll towards me. Cocky bastard. 

I run for as long as I can before my lungs give out. I leaned against a tree, walking slowly into a clearing. I take a deep breath, pulling my arms behind my head to breathe deeper. Just as I find a moment of peace, a branch snaps behind me. I whip my head around, my heart racing as Mattheo approaches me. He doesn’t run, only walks towards me with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ditched that awful mask, and I can see the smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. I stumble backwards, falling into the fresh snow. He continues his pace, unbothered by my racing heart as I scramble away from him and finally back to my feet. I don’t get one leg in front of the other before strong arms are wrapped around my waist, slipping under the loose fabric of my shirt.

“I win,” He mumbles in my ear, voice dark and raspy. It sends a chill down my spine that pools in my underwear. 

Mattheo throws me over his shoulder, ignoring my flailing lips as he walks back to the manor. “Didn’t even get a mile, love. Lost your talent it seems, or maybe you knew you’d miss me too much.” he teased, running his warm hands up my thigh, pressing a kiss to my exposed skin. 

It isn’t long before we’re back at the manor, and I thank every god I'm in good ties with when he walks past the basement. He takes me to his room instead, our room, the room where I've fallen apart under his touch more times than I can count. 

I breathe in his familiar scent as he deposits me on the bed, and I roll over to bury my burning face in the pillows. Mattheo chuckles at me and grabs my hips, pulling me back against him as he grinds his hardening bulge against the plushness of my ass. 

“You’ve been extra obedient, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with a tone I could quite place. Lust? Possession? Love? It all blurred together as he rutted his hips against me. “Good girls deserve a reward, don’t they?” he asked, before hooking his fingers at the hem of my shorts. He pulled them down to expose my glistening cunt. He spread me out along his fingers, admiring the way my pussy pulsed around nothing. He leaned in, pressing a possessive kiss to my clit, holding my hips as I try to buck away from him. 

His warm fingers trace along my thighs, sleeping between my legs and collecting the arousal that pooled there. I release a shaky breath into the pillow as his finger circles my clit, and I arch my back to present myself further. He hums in appreciation, trailing his finger further up to my dripping hole, slowly pushing his middle finger inside of me. I gasp at the intrusion, not being able to remember the last time something so long had been inside of me. I keen under his touch, gripping the sheets for stability as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of me. A moan escapes me as he curls his finger, and his thumb brushes against my needy pearl again. Mattheo adds a second finger, spreading out my tight, gummy walls. I crumble under his touch, mouth falling open and eyes going half lidded as he pulls his fingers from me. 

I hear him dropping his pants, and the bed dips behind me yet again as he leans his body completely over mine. His arm wraps around my neck, pressing me close to his chest while his breath fans across my face. The tip of his cock presses against me, and I whine at the sensation, pushing my hips back against him.

“Needy girl, thought you didn’t need me anymore.” He teased, pushing just the bulbous tip into my hole. It’s enough to make the knot in my stomach tighten, and I shake my head. “Need you, Matty, Need you so bad.” I admit, face flushed with embarrassment as he smirks. “Gonna run away again?”

He doesn’t let me get an answer out before he’s pressing further inside of me, the stretch burning pleasantly while my eyes roll back. His arm around my throat tightens, “I asked you a question, darling.” He teased, licking away the stray tear that fell from my eyes. I gasp as his cock brushes against a gummy bundle of nerves, and my head drops to the pillows. He tugs me back against him, pushing even further until he balls slapped against me. “No! No, never gonna leave again,” I promised, involuntary whines spilling from my throat. 

Mattheo pulls his hips back before drilling them back into me, “Good girl,” He grins as he sets a punishing pace, watching my face contort into pleasure underneath him. “Who owns you?” he asks, and I push back against his hips desperately. “You! You do, God, you do!” I moan, feeling my head go light from the lack of airflow. 

“God isn’t here, Love, It’s just me now.”

He drills into my pulsating hole, my back arching at his every thrust as my brain goes mushy from the pleasure. The arm around my throat pulls away, slipping down my stomach to find my pearl. His fingers are just as fast as his pace, and I can’t fight back the whorish moans in my throat. His lips attach to my shoulder, biting a possessive mark into my skin as he fucks me good, better than he ever had before. 

Tears fall from my eyes, and my hand grips his desperately as I’m worked to my edge. “Matty, Matty please…” I trail off into a string of moans, and Mattheo adjusts himself behind me. He bucks his hips into me once more, and I fall apart all over him. My pussy flutters around his cock, and he rides out my orgasm with a few last thrusts of his hips, before he spills his hot seed deep into my womb. Mattheo collapses on top of me, still deep inside as he pins my body to the bed. He hums into my neck, burying himself in my skin. 

“That’s my good girl. Let’s go take a shower.”

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 17

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Mentioned character death

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos   @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions

Masterlist

A/N: Let's pretend like this isn't a million months late and let's pretend I didn't suddenly forget how to write during my time away.

Day 201

Fifteen days. They were getting fifteen whole days home. They’d just landed in North Carolina and from there, each soldier would head their separate ways. Unfortunately, Leah’s flight to Denver wasn’t until the next day. She would have driven home if the drive wasn’t actually longer than simply waiting sixteen hours for her flight.

She’d planned on spending the night waiting around at the airport but a few men who were in the same situation as her had found a motel for the night and she had to admit that having a place to shower was a big enough appeal to cancel out sleeping in a cramped room with three of the men.

Had their overseas flight not been delayed, Sy would have driven straight down to see his folks. As it was, it was already getting late and he didn’t want to make the five hour trip in the dark. Besides, no one would be awake if he showed up after midnight.

After taking a cab to retrieve his truck where he’d placed it in storage, Sy made his way back to the motel. The men had already made themselves at home and were sharing a few beers on the plastic chairs that surrounded the empty pool.

“How can I help you, dear?” the woman behind the desk greeted him.

“I’d appreciate a room for the night, if ya have one. Just one bed’ll do.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, we’re full up. I assumed you were with all the other boys.”

“Well, ma’am, I am. I just hadn’t planned on stayin’ in town tonight so none of them saved a bed for me.”

The woman looked through the hand written registry again but Sy already knew the answer wouldn’t change from the empty peg board behind her.

“I wish I could help you out but a lovely young woman just checked out the last room. We normally have a four person per room policy but I’ll look the other way if you want to squeeze in with any of your fellow soldiers. The least I can do is make sure the men who serve our country get a roof over their heads when they are back home.”

Sy tipped his head in thanks and walked out of the little office. He pulled the cap down over his head though it didn’t do much to protect him from the light of the setting sun.

It looked like he was going to have to ask one of the boys for a favor. The question was, who did he want to bunk with for the night? On the flight over he’d heard them talking about hitting the bars tonight. Sleeping on the floor might land him in a splash zone if he didn’t choose wisely. He didn’t trust any of them to drink in moderation. Not after that last op.

Garrett had flatlined on the chopper while being transported. They somehow got him back but when they finally got him into surgery, it was already too late. Of the other two that were evac’d, one was expected to make a full recovery and the other would most likely walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

Then there was LT. He had a half dozen broken ribs, a concussion and a collapsed lung but he was also expected to make a full recovery. His injuries were mild all things considered and Sy had almost left him there to die.

“I thought you’d be halfway home by now,” a sweet voice spoke from behind him.

Sy was shocked when he turned to find Leah, who had apparently showered and changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt she’d tied into a knot at her hip. Her hair was still damp but she’d left it loose around her shoulders to air dry. It was his first time seeing her out of uniform and her casual outfit might as well have been expensive lingerie if his dick’s reaction was any indication.

“Didn’t want to drive in the dark. Starting to regret it though. They’re full up so I either bum a spot on someone’s floor for the night or I call around until I find a place with a vacancy.”

Leah made a face like she understood how unappealing both of those options were.

“Well… I’ve got a king bed all to myself.”

Sy swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Was that an invitation or was she just stating a fact? Not that Leah was the kind of person to add salt to a wound but surely she wasn’t implying what he annoyingly hoped she was implying.

Leah pulled on an old USMC crew neck, causing her shirt to lift up and expose the skin of her stomach. The sweatshirt was well worn and the tip of the sleeves were frayed where she rolled them up. The state of the fabric made Sy believe that the shirt had most likely belonged to her father and he decided to forgive the insult of wearing something meant for a jarhead.

“I was going to pick up some snacks and juice from around the corner since I hadn’t planned on going out. I think there was a liquor store too.” Leah reached into the pocket on the side of her leggings and handed a small key ring to Sy. “How does pizza, beer and half a king bed sound?”

It sounded like perfect bliss and asking for trouble all wrapped into one.

Sy took the key, seeing a small number twenty etched into the plastic. He looked back at the motel, studying the numbers on the doors.

“It’s the room above the office. The stairs that lead to the door are on the side since it’s a separate structure from the rest of the rooms.”

That was good. If Sy was lucky, no one would notice that he was sharing Leah’s room.

And no one would hear her scream his name if he fucked her into the mattress.

Shit. Not a good train of thought if he wanted to make it through the night in the same bed as Leah. 

“I’ll order while you’re gone. Unless you want me to drive?”

She shook her head, her dark brown locks moving in the breeze.

“I need to stretch my legs after that flight. I’ll be back in forty-five, maybe an hour tops.”

With that, Leah was off. Sy hurried to his truck for his duffle then up the steps to the room. The first thing he needed was to clean the twenty-some-odd layers of dust and dirt off his body. After placing a quick order with a local pizzeria he found in the phonebook, he stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower.

The bathroom was still humid from when Leah had been in there earlier so he didn’t shut the door all the way. The fan was on but Sy was pretty sure it’s only function was to make noise.

Thirty minutes and half a tiny bar of soap later, Sy deemed himself as clean as he was going to get and switched off the now tepid water.

He was in the process of drying himself off when the hotel room door opened and shut with a slam. He hadn’t left it unlocked, he hadn’t left any door unlocked since he left his parents’ house at eighteen which meant Leah was back and she’d let herself in with a second key.

Scrambling to cover himself up, Sy realized he hadn’t taken his clean clothes out of his pack. He wrapped the towel around his waist but it was too short to stay put on its own, forcing him to hold the ends together. There was no way he could walk out like that. 

“Coleman?”

“Yeah, it’s just me.”

“Would ya mind bringin’ me my bag?”

At the same moment a knock sounded from the door.

“Fuck. That’ll be the food.”

Leah came into view through the crack in the door, setting Sy’s bag by the ground.

“It’s fine, I’ll get it.”

“No, you paid for drinks, I’ll get the food, just let me find my wallet.”

Another, more insistent, knock came from the door and Leah ran over to open it, exchanging a short greeting with the delivery man.

Sy crouched by his bag, pulling the door open another few inches as he rustled through the pockets. He was getting nowhere with one hand, eventually pinching the thin cotton of the towel in the crease of his hip to free up his left hand.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbled when his hand wrapped around the worn leather of his bill fold. He pulled out three bills, holding them up for Leah to take.

Leah made a choked sound when she caught a glimpse of Sy’s body only shielded by a barely there towel. She snatched the money from his hands with a mumbled thanks before averting her eyes and running back to the door.

Sy dressed in thirty seconds flat, exiting the bathroom right as Leah opened a bottle of rum and poured a generous amount in one of those individually packaged plastic cups that were as small as the soap. She lifted the drink to her lips, downing the whole thing in one go before filling it again.

“What are we drinkin’?” he asked as he came to stand a little too close to Leah.

“Beer or rum.” She cleared her throat, putting some distance between them as she opened the pizza boxes. “What are we eating?”

“Meat or meat.”

He really hoped she didn’t have anything against pepperoni, sausage or bacon because he had gotten one deluxe and one four meat pizza. When ordering, he hadn’t considered that she might follow a specific diet when was home.

His worries were abated when Leah opened both boxes on the dresser, dexterously swapping half of the deluxe pizza for half of the all meat one before closing the box again and taking the other over to the bed. The room didn’t have a table or chairs so it was as good a spot as any to sit and eat.

Sy took over making Leah’s rum and coke, which she’d abandoned when Sy’s closeness had made her brain malfunction, then opened a bottle of beer for himself.

“So, where are you headed from here?” Sy asked, handing Leah her drink then taking a massive bite of the deluxe pizza. It looked like he barely chewed it before he went in for a second and third bite.

“I’m going to stay at our old house. My brother decided to move into an apartment after receiving his residency match to be closer to work so it’ll just be me, myself and I for the better part of the next two weeks.”

She tried to hide it, but Sy could tell she was disappointed. Who could blame her? Caleb was the only family she had left and she would get forty-eight hours with him after so long apart.

“What about you? You mentioned your siblings and your parents… is there an ol’ lady somewhere in that mix?”

Sy’s head snapped up, pausing halfway through chewing his bite. She wasn’t looking at him, instead keeping her eyes on the drink as she swirled the contents around her cup.

“What makes ya think I have a wife or even a girlfriend waitin’ back home?” His tone was harsher than he’d intended but he was a little offended by what she was insinuating.

She kept her eyes downcast as she shrugged. Her lips were pursed from the way she nervously chewed the inside of her cheek. Maybe it wasn’t so much an accusation as it was her way of tiptoeing into the subject.

“Hey…” Sy waited until Leah dared to look up before he continued. “I’m no saint,” he admitted, his voice soft, “but I ain’t a cheat. If I had someone waitin’, she’d be it for me.” Not everyone considered kissing cheating but his ever growing feelings would definitely constitute infidelity. Leah’s eyes flickered from left to right, studying his face as she considered his words before finally giving a little nod of acceptance.

There was a tense silence as she picked up another piece of pizza, leaving her crusts in the box. Had Aika been with them, he would have given them to her as a treat. He was surprised how much he found himself to be missing the pup.

He’d found a shelter that helped send strays overseas for them to be adopted. They’d been willing to look after Aika until they returned and he’d arranged for them to give her all the shots she needed to keep her safe and eventually allow her into the States. They’d asked if he wanted them to help get her home right away but he couldn’t imagine going back to a life on base without his four-legged shadow.

Watching from the corner of his eye as she ate, Sy went over the speech he’d been preparing in his head the whole flight home. He knew what he wanted to say but for some reason the words kept getting caught in his throat. They had expertly avoided the subject the last two months on base but it was time for him to suck it up and say what needed to be said.

“I never apologized.” Leah’s head tilted to the side as she looked at him. She was still working on a mouthful of food but the little motion was enough to convey what she was thinking.

“For kissin’ you,” Sy clarified. “It should never have happened. You were hurt and vulnerable then I went and put ya in a position where ya probably felt like ya couldn’t say ‘no’. I let my personal feelings get the best of me and I accept full responsibility for that. I’m really sorry.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, staring down at her drink.

Noticing her glass was empty, she moved off the bed to the improvised bar. She appreciated Sy’s apology. The circumstances under which he had acted were indeed quite poor, but at the same time, she understood what had pushed him to act—it was the same instinct that had pushed her to go after Niki, career be damned. It was terrifying to think that Sy felt so strongly about her, but it was even more terrifying that she desperately wanted him to.

She took her time fixing her drink, using the break in conversation to gather her courage.

On the bed, Sy was beginning to grow anxious. With her back turned, he couldn’t tell what was going through Leah’s head as the silence stretched on. He foolishly hoped she was gathering the courage to ask for a repeat but for all he knew, she could also be gathering the courage to ask him to leave.

It didn’t go unnoticed that maybe it also hadn’t been the best of plans to apologize when the two of them were stuck in a room with only one bed but it was already well overdue.

He also probably shouldn’t have agreed to share the room in the first place.

What had he been thinking? Even if his head knew to keep his hands to himself, the brain between his legs had a completely different idea of how to spend the next ten hours. He probably wouldn’t sleep a wink out of fear that he would drift off, roll over and grind his dick right into her ass.

He was just about ready to go spend the night in the bed of his truck when she spoke in a soft, unsure voice. He’d never heard her sound so meek.

“When you kissed me, there was a second there where I didn’t really understand what was happening. Everything was a little foggy, like I was in a dream.”

It no doubt felt like a dream because of the concussion. He hadn’t even considered how confused she must have been in addition to being tired, in pain and in a closed room with her superior who was suddenly getting handsy.

“But it wasn’t a dream," Leah finally said. “You were really there. Really holding me. Really kissing me.”

It was his turn to stand, coming to a halt a safe distance behind Leah. There was a small mirror on the wall which now allowed him to study her face in the reflection as she peeked up and did the same.

He’d replayed their kiss in his head so many times since that night. He’d begun to question whether he had only imagined those few blissful moments when Leah had kissed him back before she got spooked.

“A part of me was ecstatic,” feeling hopeful, Sy took a careful step forward and Leah turned to face him, “but another part of me was terrified.”

Shit. “Why?”

“Well, you’re my superior. I don’t need to explain why that’s a horrible idea.”

No, she didn’t. He’d thought about that every day since he’d first met the feisty young woman. But he had the feeling that was not the only factor. Sy took another step, making Leah’s breath hitch from the proximity. “And?”

Leah went back to chewing the inside of her cheek, looking away. Suddenly losing his nerve, Sy moved back, clearing the empty paper plates and pizza box from the bed. He wasn’t sure he could hear her reasons for not wanting him.

“It’s okay, ya don’t have to tell me. I’ll get outta here and let ya get some rest.”

He was disappointed, but what had he expected? That she would confess her undying love for him and that suddenly everything would be all fine and dandy?

Sy moved to his duffle, packing up the clothing items that had fallen onto the floor of the bathroom as he’d dug through it.

The sudden fear of watching Sy walk away was enough to convince Leah to speak.

“Please don’t go.”

Sy froze, surprised by her rushed plea. He slowly straightened, making his way back to Leah where she dropped onto the bed, hugging herself tightly. Sy longed to be the one to comfort her but he didn’t want to risk pushing her too far. Again.

“I really wanted to kiss you but then I started to worry that maybe you were expecting… more.”

That made Sy pause, crouching in front of Leah. “What exactly did ya think I was expectin’?”

“I— I don’t know.” She sniffled, shaking her head before wiping her cheek on the back of her hand. “It seemed like every time I got hurt I got a bedside visit from you and that night… You had this look in your eye like you thought you’d never see me again. You can’t blame me for thinking that there was something more than kissing on your mind.”

Just like that, Sy was back on base, reliving the most terrifying events of his life. Whenever he thought back to that night he’d been so focused on his stupidly impulsive decision to kiss a soldier under his command that he had almost forgotten about the op. Or maybe he’d just had a selective memory that preferred to remember the softness of her lips over the way she’d been so completely still when he found her unconscious.

“When I walked in and saw ya on that floor, I was convinced that I’d lost ya. I kept thinkin’ of all the things that I wished I’d said then, when ya woke up, I still couldn’t speak a single fuckin’ word so I— I didn’t think, I just acted.”

“Can you... tell me now?”

Sy swallowed the lump in his throat feeling his palms start to sweat. All the stress was coming right back but this time, he was determined to make it through. He took Leah’s hands in his.

“You’ve been on my mind since the first moment I saw ya. I liked that you didn’t take any shit from anyone. And since then… Fuck, I’ve just been falling hard. You make me feel understood in ways I've never experienced before. You make me feel like— Like I’m good enough.”

Leah looked down at their joined hands. “What if I can’t be enough? What if I can’t give you what you need?”

At first Sy thought she meant a relationship but when she unconsciously glanced down to the bed, Sy began to put the pieces together.

“Leah,” it was still foreign to use her first name, “does sex make ya uncomfortable?”

“Sometimes.” She tried to pull away but Sy didn’t let go. He caught her eye, giving her a look that clearly meant to cut the bullshit. “Okay, a lot of the time. Even if guys are willing to wait, they tend to expect sex at some point down the line and I can’t guarantee that I’ll ever be into it.”

“And ya think that’s a deal breaker for me?” He had to admit that, although he was used to going long periods of time on his own, he’d assumed sex would be on the table when he was home.

“Well, you are Captain ‘Pussy-is-on-the-food-pyramid’ Syverson.”

Sy winced, running a hand over his cropped hair. He hadn’t meant the question as an accusation but her defensiveness was understandable. 

“Yeah, okay, I can see where you’re coming from but it ain’t like that. There’s no fun in it if my girl don’t like it.”

Noticing she was still skeptical, Sy lifted the hem of his shirt. When Leah didn’t make a move to stop him, he guided her hand to his chest, holding it flat over his scar. “I learned the hard way that thinkin’ with my dick gets me nowhere good. I’ll give all that up in a heartbeat if it means I get a shot at somethin’ real.”

Leah traced the lines of his scar. She remembered it perfectly though she hadn’t dared ask about it when they’d been in his room on base.

“You think I’m something real?” she whispered.

Releasing her hand, Sy brushed Leah’s hair out of her face and kissed her temple.

“Yeah, I do.”

It was obvious that Leah was still scared of the possible repercussions. After all, she had every reason to be worried about the impact a relationship could have on her career. Leah was still young, she had a lot to learn about what she wanted in life and a lot to lose should anything go wrong. As much as Sy wanted to pull her to him and kiss her until she couldn’t think of anything else, Leah needed time to make a decision.

Looking at her more closely, Sy took in the dark circles under Leah’s eyes and the way her cheeks looked more sunken than ever before. She’d been a wreck after Niki and with good reason. The caveman in him felt better knowing that he’d fed her but she was still in desperate need of a good night’s rest.

He would have to put a pin in the conversation until they got back to base.

“What time’s your flight?”

“Eight.”

“Then you need to get some sleep.” Sy stood, pulling Leah up with him. She didn’t argue, simply grabbing her pack and heading into the bathroom. Meanwhile, Sy cleaned up the leftover pizza, managing to fit the box in the mini-fridge. He shut the curtains and switched off the main light, leaving only the bedside lamp on. After a moment of hesitation, he removed his shirt, keeping his shorts on, and climbed into bed.

Leah joined him a moment later, and to his surprise, she wrapped herself around him from behind. She’d changed into something sleeveless and the feeling of her bare arms over his skin nearly made him groan.

“You’re warm.”

“Na Sugar, your hands are just freezin’.” He intertwined their fingers together, happily sharing his body heat.

Leah smiled to herself at the easy way the endearment fell from his lips. Just for one night, she would let herself enjoy Sy’s company. For one night, she would pretend that he wasn’t her captain. For one night, she would pretend she wasn’t terrified he would eventually get sick of waiting for something that might never happen.

Sy woke the next morning to a shiver running down his spine. He sensed Leah’s absence immediately and he didn’t need to look around the room to know that she was gone.

Chapter 18

[hochmvt]

Welcome back to your favorite horror podcast '𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒'. I'm your host Isaiah, this is episode 152 and I'm so glad you joined me on this beautiful day. I hope you're doing fantastic and ain't suffering from the current heat as much as I do. Recording this in the middle of nowhere – but … what else is new –, today we're following the story of Violet and Hunter, a happily married couple from the midwest. Or … so it seems. After Hunter noticed some changes in his wife's behavior, the couple's true love for one another was tested. What happens if the person you thought you knew in and out starts to act erratic? What if you discover new sides to them you're not only unfamiliar with but also scared by? How well can you know a person, despite being married to them for years? Before we dive into the topic of truly knowing people and the seemingly harmless multifacetedness of "love", as always: thank you for tuning in.

Alright ! Welcome back, welcome back! As I said before, I'm so glad you joined me on this fine day. I saw you guys' posts on Reddit wishing my mom well and I'm glad to say, that your little affirmations worked wonders. She's feeling on top of her game again and was touched by your compassion, so she thinks you aren't just weird internet people anymore – then she thought about signing up for Reddit herself and I kinda talked her out of it. Luckily. That being said, enough of the chit chat and let's get right into it.

I stumbled across Hunter's story approximately two weeks after the first 'incident'. See, I'm not necessarily much into this entire married couple kinda thing (to be honest with you, in the beginning it kinda sounded like they just needed some couple's therapy and I was about to brush it away) but this one eventually felt like something more serious. When I met up with Hunter, this poor fella looked like he hadn't slept for weeks. We were supposed to meet at a Diner closeby to the motel he stayed at. I got there a little late, stood outside, smoking a cigarette and watched the people inside. It was hard to miss him. He sat at the counter, looking like one of those guys at 3AM in any old dive bar, thinking about what to tell their wife when, where and why the 'Only two pints, hun, I promise' - pledge was broken.

To be honest with you, after what he told me, the only medicine that would've worked with Hunter was Jaegermeister – and in that moment I was convinced that I am the funniest person on planet earth – but I didn't make the joke in front of him.  Violet was your typical girl next-door ; rather modest, pedantic, however she was kind and thoughtful. Pulling pranks or dicking around wasn't something in her repertoire – contrary to Hunter. Frankly, both of them seemed kinda contradictory from what Hunter had told me. Two weeks prior, Violet had returned from a trip to her sister's place down in Parks, close to the Kansas' border. What Hunter had noticed upon her return in the middle of the night was her frizzy, tangled hair, her tired eyes and terse behavior, but he didn't think much of it. After all, she just arrived from a four hour drive in the middle of the night, so she headed to take a shower before going to bed. 

Isaiah's phone rang. In the middle of recording. Who on earth dares to call at 3AM in the morning? All of his friends knew where he was, they usually checked the time zones, if they decided to give him a call (which rarely ever happened, none of them was really fond about talking on the phone). Upon sorting his thoughts, he realized what n̸̡̢͍̯̤̥̞̼̦̭͈͇͇͚̭̠̜͈̘͇̤̯͕̉͗̃́̑̓͑̊́̊͐͆̒̿́̈͌̓̽̚̕̕͜à̷͕̤̳̪̩̪̫̳̺͉̗̈̊̍͐̀̀͑̀͗̿͠ͅm̸̡̡̨̨̛̭͓̦̺̼͉̣̯̲̖͔͖̟̙͈̜̞͔̙̗͈̺̳̼̬̞̞̮̙̥̼̝̄͌͂͌̍͌̾̓̓͑́͋̇̀̂̓̂͛͋̓̈́̂͑̑̍͒͒͂́͛̀̈́̂͑͂̂̉̉͘̕̚̕͘͝͝e̴̡͖̼̦̗̝̪̙̰͖̯̟̲̳̠͇̥̿̈̀̈́͑̏̈̏̀̌̏̊̈́ had popped up on the screen; his heart dropped, his hands felt clammy. C̷̨̛̪͎̩̣̫̮̰͈͛̈́͋̾̔̌͛̿̀̄̕͜͝ͅͅa̵̻̳͔̜͓̠̙̤̖͈̲͋̽̊̅̇́͗̒͑̆͒̇̔̅̑͂̒̆̇̏͐̍͘͜͝͝r̵̨̡̨̧̢̡̧̛̗̭̤̗͖̝͕͈̠͚̹͓̫͔͚̫̫͈̱̦̦̱͇͙̖͎̬̘̬̪̫̣̪͉͈̹̮͓̟̅̑̅̓̓̽̄̃͂̎̀̆̐̒̐̍̈́̏͒̐͌̂̾̚̚͜͜͝͝ṱ̷͔̰̮͉̭̳͙̣̫̥͉̻̝̠͈̭̼̦̩̯̰͙̩͎̳̱̺̞̖̺̬̹̃͜ͅę̸̨̻͙̯̦̲͕̟͎̰̬̼̝̪͙̫͉̗̜͔̞̳̻̪͕̳͔̗͎̤͕̖̙̬̮̼̳̗̺͋̏̃̓̍̆̃̇̎͝͝ͅͅr̸̨̹̩̮̤̙̗͎͕̬͛̉͗̓͊͊̅̆̈́͂͌͛̄̓̐̍̋̚̕̚͠. He hasn't called in ages. 

They were teenagers back then, Isaiah had no idea how to approach him, a̶̛̛̟̯̼̩̟̣͎̺͇̼̼̥̳̮͓̐̓̓̑̽͊͗͑̇̂̾͗͐͑͋̀͗̾̋͊̓͊̀̆̾̓͛́̈́̽͒̇͐̂͐̌̇͘͘̕͘͘̕̚͝͠f̸̳̠̩͈̣̗̜̹̘͔̣͖͔͓̟̠̝̖̦͙̖̤̫̖͍͉͖̓̌̐ͅţ̶̡̰̤̗͎̪̘̦̪͈̦̝̮̙̩̤͚͍̥̟̜͍͓͍͇͔̜̝͕͖̳̎͆̿̌͒́̂͊̽̂͒̉͂̐̽̓̋̽̚͜͝͠e̷̡͍͚̞̣͍̯̼͈͕̥͈̭̯̪͈͙͔̤̬͌̈́̀͑̐̃̆͒̃̂͌̈́̀̍̐̈́̈́͂̃̐̍̎̓̂̔̎͒̆̒͌́͗͛̏͛̈́͂̃̀͊̏̊͂̚͝͝͝͝͝r̵̨̧̙̻̳͕͎̻͇͚̦͓͓̭̦̰͎͇͉͚͎̜̓́͐͑͛͗̿̎͊͂̄̆͋͑͊̆̔̽́̃̆̓̂͊̿̂̅̎͂̌̏̒̐̍́͐͌̎̈́́̋́́̂̚̕̚͝͝͠ͅ ̴̢̧͇͖̪͎͎̾̑̀̎̑́̿̆̆͛͐́̋̈́̃͂́̀̈́̑̅̍͒̍̀͋̓̓̽͘̚͝͠w̸̡̖̟̲̯̩̋̈́̈́̉́̏̓̅̎̿̀̇͐̓̽̀̀́͑̀͆̎̓͗̍͛̋́̓̑̐͛͘ḩ̵̧̧̡̢̛͖̝͓̞̻̩̺̺͍̯͓̥̻͉̭̪͇̝̥̖̦͍̠̤̫͇͓͉̜͚̙͔̪̱̰̘̘̉̐̀̐̐͗̾̽̑̎̓́̔̇̑́̽̋̊̈̔̀́͊͌̓͘̕͘͘͠a̵̧̡̨̡̧̛̛̛̺̳̙͚̖̜͎͖̗̗̭͔̝̗̺̪͓̠̖̬͍̺͚̖̻̬͙̩̖̭̫͈̞̫̯̗̙͙̲̯̫̥̯̒̌̋͛̄͊̈̄̓͒̂̐͗̋̃͂͊́͐̈́́̎̈̀̒̽̐͛̏̐̌́̈́͂̊͂̇̾́̊̋͗̕͜͠ͅt̴̡̛͉̙͎̹̘̭̙͕̝̠̖̮̤̬̭̯̺̻̞̣̻̤̱̟͇̩̮͈̦̩͇̹̞̜̜̤͇͎͙͓̠̋̌̏̓̽͛͋̆̏̏̉̓͌̍̀̈́͆͘͜͜͜͝ ̷̨̡̢̛̛̟͚̳̝͍̞̬̖͙̳̯̼̯͔͙͙̩̻̤͍͕͉̠͍̠̣̞̤̺̘̞̪̦͍̯̻̗̮̤̮̗͉̣̊̈́̈́͒͊̔̈́͆̓̑̏̿̆̄̂̿͒̒̌́̏͌͛̒̆́̕̚͜͝ͅͅh̵̡̩̦͔̣̅̐̐̀̊̀̃̊́̅͗̂̂̍͂̓́͑̒̑̎̎̓̑̋a̸̧̢̡̤͔̣̰̲̣̳͚̟͇̜͚̯͂̽̏̌̀̀̉̅̏̀̉͌̎́̋͐̑̿͒̄̑͗͐̊͊̓̽͘͜͝͠ͅͅḑ̸̢̡̞̖̳̳͉͎̱̣͚͙͇̣̤͔̦̼͉̤̹̙̆̈̎͗̀́́̂̍̄͐̃̈́̓̊̂̀̏͆͗̋͠͝ ̴͓̞̬̗͓̳̼̖̠͎̭̖͕͚͍̼̘̤̞̥̏̈́̄̑͐͒̆̏͊̌͌͜ẖ̷̛͎̌̆̋̾̃̍̍͂́̃͌͒̒̊̄̿̆͗̏̇̃͌͒̿̃͂̄́̎̆͐̎̍̍͛͘͘͠͝a̴̢̨̨̧̡̡̧̛̛͇̟̲͎͎͚̣̤̫͈͍͓̠̲̲͙̱̩͙̲̮͈̯̫̹͙̝͇̬͚͇̩̮͙̖͍̥̦̣͌̄̐̋͐͗̃̃́̈̀̽͒̈́̀̅̍͆̉͌͊́̽̓̕̕̚͘͝͝͝͠ͅp̶̧̥͈͓̠̹̲͍͉̜̟͉̱̯͍͉̙͎̩̬̝̟̳͇͍̖̪̽͒͜ͅp̵̡̨̧̡̡̛̲̘̙̙̤̺̭̖̫̜͔̠͉̤͓̼͕̬̲̘̝̣͓̘̱̺̮̱̰̼̻͇̣̪͎̞̮̱͙͔̫͒̈́̔̋̐̓̏̔̃̃̾͌̀̋̋́̍̾́̊͛̒̈́̒̽́͌̔́̃̔̅̉̒̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͝ę̸̢̳̰̱̤͚̙̬̱̖̤̣̲̰͍̥̮̙̌͆̅̔̾̓̑̓̔̈́́͑̊͂̌͊̓̍͗́̎̀̈́͗̒̓͗̀̀̚͘͠͝ń̶̢̛̛͕̖̰͉̗̙̩̣͚͎͔̺̔̾̎̽̂̊̄̉̅͗͐̈́̀̊̉͘͝͝ȇ̷̢̢̡̡̬̲̗̺̻̼̮̹̯̟̻͈̠̥̥̫̖͙̖͉̠̼̘̝̹̙̳͖͍̝̫̝̝̮̱̙͈̱̰͔̪̲̓̽̕͘͜͝ͅd̸͓̥̭̥́͊̀͋̏̈̒̅̀̀́͋͗̈̍͆̐̒̂̒́̀́̂͌̍̌́̍̔͋̔̔̈́́͐͌̓̚̕͝. It felt weird talking to him – seeing him again after all these years. As if his face had changed throughout the years, but instead of the nature of the natural human process of aging, it felt– ơ̶̢͙̙͕͍̹͌͗͋͐̀̎͑̀͋̓̌̎̀̌̅̃̒͋͆̾̃̅̾̇͆͐̉̑̔̇̓̉͘͝͝͠͠͝͝t̴̨̛̘̮̦̫̮͉̙̪͕͎̟̆̒̃͑̓͐̌̑̏̆̆͌̅͊͑̿̇̎̎͘͘͜h̸̗̜̱͌̄͗̍̑̀̍̒e̴̛̱̣̳̰̭̟̱͙͔̼͕̭͖̠̣̣̙̙̘̰͈̗̮͈̲̹͖͔̻̣̪͖͆͆͋̓͑͂́̀͗̂̐̄̄̓͝͝ŗ̶̡̨̧̡̧̡̡̧̨͇̟̩̭̯̞̜͇͎̜̫̯̘͇̝͚͚̻̗͓̯̙̟͇̭̝͈̘̦̭̮̘̽͗͊͐͂̋͗̓̐̃̆̀̔̄͛̆͛̽͂̒͆̀̏̏͒͌̌̋̉͊̉͛͐̊́̈͂̀̎̈́̿̿̏̑͘̚̕͘͜͜w̵̡̧͈̼͇̘̭̪̱̻̼̭͙̠͉͙̥̩̳̭͈̼͆̈͂̍͂̉́͑̕͜͜ͅǫ̷̨̨̩̺̼̮̩̗͈̳̘͔̞͈̗̺̩̦̩͙̫̦̮̤̠̞̗͔̞̥̳̠͎͚͈̯̦͎̭̞̠̭̿͌̏̿͋͗̈́̒̓̏͆͋̉̇̉̆͊́̌̌̒̏͐̇̇̍̀̌̐͌̿́̃̅̚͘͘̕͜͜͜͠͠͝͠͝͠͝ͅŗ̸̨̡̧̛̼̰͔͉̻͖̗̞͎͙͓̙̞̦͙̻̰̳͔̱͈͌̎̈́̈̽̐̔͂͛͋͛̍͛̐́͛̋̄͊͂̑̃̓̋̍̇̏̈́͋̾̔̀̽̋̉̏͆̇͋̈̉͑̏̉͜͝͠ͅl̷̢̧̢̧̢̛̛̫̼͙͚̬̖̭̞̖̲̠̱͇̙̺̜͇̳̟̯͓̩͔̩͒̓̀̾̅͊̏͗̆̃̃͐̋̔͛͌̈̉̈͒͐̎̔̃̿̃̾̇̎̅͒͋̐̏̄̕̕̕͜͜͠͠͝d̷̢̨̛̛̛͍͚̣̮̻̹͕̫͕̻̥͔̯̰͚̞̳̙͈̟͎͔̞̜̻̙̳̜̗̠̬̲͎̖̝̭͍̠̑̿́͊͐̈́͆̇͌̂͆̓̋̿̈́̐͛́͐̿̒́̐̕̕͘̕͜͜͠͝͝ļ̶̨̢̡̛̬͎̗͚̥͍̞͔̦̰̘̱̼̞̰̣̪͔͈͚͌̊̾̐̽̓͛̇̅̇͊̆́̃͛̄̂́̾̓̆͂͊̉̎̃͘̚͝y̴̨̢̡̗͉̭͔̳͎̜̩͓̱͉̬̱̬̗̗̮̬̥͕͕̺̹̻͇͒͗̔͗̀̃̓̅̀̀͗͆͑͗. Fuck, he sighed, his gaze fixed on the screen. He shifted his weight slightly, fingers tapping on the back of his phone. He felt uneasy, jumpy even; probably due to the lack of sleep from the night before. Isaiah rejected the call and decided to text him instead: 'Gonna call you back asap. Currently working.'

Two days later, after coming back from a long night of meeting up with his colleagues, having drinks, talking about manly things such as sports, monstertrucks and tits, Hunter was slightly drunk. Thus he had the same sensation all of us have, when we had one or fourteen drinks too many: He was hungry and in desperate need for something good. Eating in the kitchen, minding his business, he let his gaze wander until his eyes focused, locking upon familiar features at the end of the hallway. Violet was peeking at him from around the corner, only her eyes visible, wide open, almost unnatural looking, the rest of her body hidden behind the wall. Upon trying to focus and rubbing his eyes, she was gone. All he heard were fast footsteps stealing away from the hallway. It didn't sound like someone was running though, more like an animal fleeing from the intruder of their natural habitat. However, we know  the more our vision declines, the more frequently hallucinations occur. And I told you about how scientists were able to demonstrate that these hallucinations originate in the same brain regions where actual perceptions are processed – and not in the areas where images that arise from our imagination are created. This explains why so many people believe their hallucinations to be real – and yet, Hunter thought he was drunk and his mind played tricks on him. Speaking of your mind's playing tricks on you: Do those hear strange noises at night sometimes that keep you awake? Not the voices in your head, but your neighbors having the time of their lives, the police out and about on duty or the 826th party down the road? 

When nighttime brings unsettling sounds that make your heart race, the new earplugs from HUSH are your answer. Constructed with high-density memory foam, they effectively block out the eerie noises, letting you rest easy and help you fight your sleep paralysis demons easily. Ideal for those who are sensitive to sound, you'll find yourself sleeping through the night all safe and sound. Visit hush.com and use the promo code 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 for 15% off your first purchase. Thank you HUSH for sponsoring this episode and thank you for the countless nights you helped me sleep through.

Violet seemed off after that. She rarely spoke, sometimes it felt like she stared right through her husband. On other days, he caught her just staring at him. Smiling. As if she was daydreaming about something. Her smile felt uncanny, he told me, you know, like these AI generated pictures or– robots even! Upon asking her if she was alright, she always nodded her head and continued the things she was working on. There were nights Hunter laid awake at night, Violet missing from her side of the bed. Whereas to me that sounds like an open invitation to sleep in my favorite position of them all – the spread eagle – things wouldn't be half as unsettling if it wasn't for the noises. Again, fast footsteps, too fast for anything humanoid.

So we waited. I told Hunter it was fine with me if he caught up on some sleep and I'd keep vigil, to convince myself what was going on. I mean, if she was truly visiting him every night, indifferent to where he was staying, why should she stop now? The first two hours were rather uneventful. My trusty Switch was keeping me company, I had insanely good runs playing 'The Binding Of Isaac' – until I heard a noise. It sounded like a knock but– I mean, Hunter never told me that Violet seemed like the girl to knock per se. If she truly lost her mind and was out for– revenge? A night of fun? Why on earth would she knock? I checked the door, stood outside for a while, shining my flashlight into the very far corners of the property, gaze wandering from the vending machine, to every car in the lot, even to the adjacent rooms. Nothing. There was no one there. 

Heading back inside, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Hunter had told me Violet had watched him sleep from time to time, standing outside the window, her breath on the window, but even as I checked, still, no one's there. Getting back into the game and my trusty Switch, minutes passed until– 

Cutting the recording a second time, he listened more attentively to his surroundings. There was a rustle, but wasn't there something else? Was that a whisper? His phone buzzed again, recieving an answer from the same person who tried to call him earlier.  Ǐ̷̧̢̧͍̺͔̪̭͎̳̥͚̳̥̬͎͕̹̝̺̮̟̈̅̽͆͗̂̉̋̓̃́'̶̨̡̡̧̧̨̧̢̞͙̖̤̙̤̱̗̣̙͖̘͍͖͔̹̬̯̤̻͇͈͉̖̻̞̩͉͖̗̮̬͖̭͈̦̙̳̘̯̈́̀͆̀̐̉̓̅̓̅̓̔̄̈́͊͋͘̚ͅͅv̷̼͈̥̯̜͕͆̔̄̇͑̚e̷̢̡̩͖̣͇̯̮͎͖̼̲̤̯̜̠͓͕̝̤̬̜̤̥̺͎̗͙̮͈̅̉̈̔͆̏̔̃̍͛͑͆͌̌̇̌̃̿͌̋̓̊̓͊̋͒͋̋͑̾̑͐́̒̿̍͆͘͠͝ ̶̫̝̯̜̫̙̐̀f̸̨̨̨̢̨̳̟̖̻̙̖͓͍͕͓̣͔̞̩͉͔̫͎̭̼̜͇͎͙͇̳̤̝̩̻̝̩͖̜̖̯̩̩͆̏̍̀̀̑̅̀̌̋̉͛̄̈̀̃͗̐̈̌͋͒͐̅̀̒̕͘͝ͅǫ̶̢̢̡̧̛̛̫̞̞̖̯͇͚̭̮͖̈́͐̈́̊̏͆̈̋̃͐̎͛̏͌͆̆̀̇͌͛̐̌͋̉͑̿́̈́̚͘̚̚͘̕͝͠͝͠ͅu̷̧̧͙͚͚̟̞̜͖̲̦͈̠̘̥̳̠̜̻̮̙̳͊̾̔͆̾͌̄͗́̆͆͆̀͐͋̃͌͛̑͗̉͒͐̊͗̎͐̎̃̈́̔͐̌̄̽̃̂͒̾̐͑́̈́͘͘͜͠͠͠ņ̴̨̢̝̗̹͖̗̳̪̙̳̱̳̠̥̯̖͍͕̘̥̝̫̤̲̣̠̺̤́̈́̀̚͝͠d̷̢̨̡̨̘̜͉̙̖́͛̍̿̍̆̓̂̏̋͗̀̈́̈́̽̉̍̄͗̾͑͊̽̿́̒̔̋͑̀͐͆͒̌̋͐́̎̃̀̿̓̕̕͘͘̚͝͝ͅͅ ̸̧̢̣̝̞͕̪̫̤̯̣͕̯̖̹̩̬̥̪͉̮̺͇̥͓̼̼̙̫̠̌ͅͅͅͅÿ̷̛̪͍̾̎̋̇̎̆̂̿̔̈̍̐̉͛̂͆̽̈̒̈́͗̅̋́͊̈̄̐̚ö̴̞́̋̊̊̃̔̇̀͑̈́͋̏̔̾̓̀͐̃͛̄̾̏̾̉̉͋̊̒͂̈̽͛͋̑̕͘̕̕̕͝u̶̧̢̠̦̝̙̖̦̺͍̲̱͍̥̘̺̥͓̫̮̗͐͊̊͒̅̆̽̆̆̽́̋̇́̾͌̓̅̿́̉͒̉̽̎̉́̊͘͘̚͘͠.̵̛̛̛̭͓̂̍̿̅̽͊̎̿̍̈̅̑̀͋̐͆̇̇̅̇̋̂͊̀́̈͂̾̊͌̈́͆̅̄̍̔̕̚̚̕̚͝͠͝ ̸̢̧̨̧̯̠̖̯̟̳̳̩̪̦̮̲͕͉͕́͛̅̎̓͂̈̓̓̑͆̔̃̓́́͝ͅͅ:̸̧̢̡̢͍̠̹̳̗̣̱̳̻͎̩̪̫͎͕͇̭̱̥͍͚̦̞̯̩̭͓̠͙̉͐̍̋̽̒͐)̶̢̬̦͔̼͉̹̪̮̖̜̣̱̩̜̠̮̖̤͉̤̠͚̘̻̳͚̪͙̬͎̰͍͔̯̦̳̿̈͋͂̏̎̈́̾͑̈̓̏̓̓̋̀́̔͘͜͜͠͠ͅ

I heard a noise. Like an animal pacing, but it sounded uncomfortably close. There was nothing outside, I checked the room Hunter was sleeping in but there was nothing. When I turned around, I saw a set of widened eyes, peeking at me from the bottom of the doorframe from the hallway. The light was reflecting in her– its eyes, like a predator lurking in the shadows, ready to hunts its prey. A long strand of dark hair was falling across her forehead, she moved her head slightly, tilted it. As if she was irritated, yet amused by the sight of me. I mean, I've seen my fair share of weird shit and read a lot about the 'power of imagination', but I assure you: This ain't fucking it. Violet's head started to rise, she seemed to get up as I stood there frozen in the doorframe across the hallway. Her hair was moving with her. It took me some time to realize that she wasn't necessarily getting up, but instead she seemed to crawl on the wall, finally positioning herself at the upper edge of the doorframe. Her hair was now dangling, pointing towards the floor, her face more visible. That was the moment I realized what Hunter had meant with the uncanny smile. Violet's features seemed off, it reminded me of Alternates, her smile seemed forced, too wide, all of her teeth were showing. Her eyes wide, reflective, like a deer in headlights. Until she vanished.

Again: Fast footsteps. Then silence.

Hunter woke up from the noise. He asked me if I was alright, standing in the doorframe, too stunned to move. Frozen. That's when I saw her again, unblinking, reflective eyes and grinning wide. She saw him, knew he was there and that's all she needed to know. All she needed to see. He was her prey, I was an irrelevant obstacle and no greater threat. She was peeking at the both of us, focusing Hunter, scuttling slowly towards us on all fours, leaving her cranny from behind the kitchen counter. Her movement seemed otherwoldly, bending her joints and body parts inhumanly, putting her legs in front of her arms when she moved. Both of us must've thought that her smile couldn't get any wider, but we were mistaken. This was her definition of fun. And trust me when I say that it wasn't mine.  Violet stopped again, tilting her head to the side. 

Again: Fast footsteps as she approached us, grinning even wider. Until we shut the door. As we both pressed against it, all we could feel, in between fast breaths and paralyzed by fear, was the intense, loud banging against the door. Relentlessly hammering against the wood, trying to force her way in, we kept the door shut with all we had. For twenty-seven minutes. Again, fast footsteps. ⸻ Then silence.

  ©redits⸻ heavily inspired by this story (please read it, it's fantastic!) and ofc the final scenes of the masterpiece that is ari aster's »hereditary«)  

[bella-goths-wife]

Murder at the frat party

Evil trio x reader

The four of you arrived to a cheap motel after the train ride. They reassured you that the cullens wouldn’t reach you and it would be safe, that and the weather was going to be nice and they couldn’t risk sparkling.

Victoria and James decided it would be best to be separated for the night so she could stay with you in a different room. They knew that you wouldn’t go back to the cullens but they couldn’t risk you running.

You felt yourself begin to grow thirsty as you pondered wether or not animals would be close by. You hated hurting and killing animals, they were innocent creatures and didn’t deserve it.

“Your getting thirsty aren’t you?” Victoria asks with a giggle, you nod “don’t worry, we’ll be heading out as soon as it gets darker”

“Where will we go?” You ask curiously

“We’ll walk around until we can find some kind of group we can feed off” she says casually as she starts to put away the clothes she had In her large hand bag

“How do you get them to follow you?” You questioned

“Good old seduction” Victoria says while posing dramatically “speaking of, we need to find you a new outfit”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, not fully comfortable with dressing in front of someone

Victoria sighs as she eyes your pink sporting outfit with thrills on the sleeves and bows

“It’s a bit childish” she confesses “your a three hundred year old vampire, not a thirteen year old princess”

“I never really liked pink” you confessed “Rosalie usually chooses my outfits”

“Well that’s going to change” Victoria says with a smile “your an adult, you can choose your own sense of style”

“That sounds nice” you smile at the idea of the independence

“Give me one second and I’ll find us an outfit” she says as she heads out the door in the shaded area of the motel

You pondered where she went, she couldn’t go shopping it was way to light. As soon as you zoned out to think about it, Victoria returned with two suitcases with the names ‘Haley’ and ‘Chrissy’ labelled on them.

“You get Chrissy, she’s the same size as you” Victoria says as she puts the bag on the bed and opens it “Who leaves their bags outside a motel?”

“Won’t you get in trouble?” You ask hesitantly

“Probably” Victoria says with a playful grin “but who cares”

You both dig through the suitcases and Victoria gleefully chooses while your stumped. You don’t remember the last time you picked an outfit, the last time you did corsets were still mandatory.

“Having trouble?” Victoria asks as she ventures to your bed, you nod confused “want help?”

“Yes please” you sigh out

Victoria pulled stuff out and asked your opinion before putting it in a yes and no pile. It was refreshing that she didn’t immediately choose for you and actually asked you opinion.

“What about this?” She asked as she pulled out a cute top, you nodded and she smiled at your approval “it might be a bit big, do you mind trying it on for me?”

You shifted uncomfortably for a few seconds at the thought of changing in front of her. Victoria notices and gives you a comforting look

“I can turn around if you want?” She offers gently

“No, it’s fine” you reassure as you lift your shirt above your head.

Victoria double takes after a moment. That’s when she noticed what was hidden under your top. Your chest was layered in multiple bandages that binded your chest down forcefully.

“Why do you wear them?” She asks carefully as you look at her confused

“Esme said that girls as young as me wear these all the time” you said confused

Victoria felt realisation hit her. The reason you looked so long wasn’t your doing, it was theirs. They had tried to keep you in a prepubescent body to make you look more childlike. They were sick

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” She asks while looking at the back of the bandages which were being held together by pins that went through your skin.

“I used to be” you confessed “but it’s not as bad since I don’t have to breathe and my skin heals around the pins, it hurts when I take it off though”

“This isn’t what you should be wearing” Victoria informed “you should be wearing a bra”

“What’s a bra?” You questioned

Victoria answers the question by rooting through the suitcase and finding a black bra that she guessed was your size. She then carefully takes off the bandages before turning around and talking you through putting the bra on.

“This is more comfortable” you confessed

“Not for long” Victoria jokes as she looks at the outfit the two of you assembled together “here, I’ll help you put this on”

(This is the outfit I envisioned but you can change it any way you want, this is just what I see)

“You two are looking nice” Laurent remarks as he and James enter your room

“Looking hot babe” James compliments Victoria as he kisses her forehead and she giggles, you envy them slightly

“So where are we hunting tonight?” Laurent asks impatiently, clearly thirsty

“Well some little bird called Chrissy was tweeting about some frat party in the lobby earlier” Victoria suggests as the four of you make your way out the room

“Are we sure that’s the best place for this one to start?” Laurent questions as he motions to you “these frats can be awfully aggressive and handsy”

“She’s not a child” Victoria chimes in “we shouldn’t treat her like one, she’s a grown woman who can easily kill anyone who goes too far”

Victoria looks at you for backup and you nod, assuring them that you’d be fine

“Well if your sure” Laurent sighs before looking at you calmly “just remember to come to us if someone is pushy”

You nod with a smile, your opinion mattered with this group. You’d never felt like that before, they valued your consent

You arrived at the fraternity, beta something. There were red solo cups lining the garden and passed out people on the porch. Music blared from speakers as the four of you headed inside.

Victoria grabbed you hand and took you to get a drink

“Can we even get drunk?” You asked doubtfully as Victoria handed you a drink

“Only if we drink a lot” she says as she pours an extra large dosage in your cup “we have a higher tolerance”

You nod as you spot james and Laurent talking to some girls, you tug on Victorias sleeve to get her attention and she giggles

“He’s just getting dinner” she reassures “we’ll have to do the same”

“I don’t think I can ‘seduce’ people” you said self consciously

“Your a beautiful girl, they’ll be tripping over themselves to talk to you” she comforts as she spots a boy approaching you and wiggles her eyebrows “speaking of, I’ll let you two talk”

Victoria walks away and the boy comes up to you with a playful grin

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here alone?” He asks and you freeze before remembering what you read in Victorias magazine earlier

“Looking for company” you try to say confidently but it came out slightly stiff, he didn’t care as he laughed

“Is that so?” He ask with a grin “me too”

You fake a giggle but it comes out high pitched and you wince. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment before seeing James staring at you

“Be careful” he whispers out so that only your vampiric hearing could pick up on it “he’s putting something in your drink”

You turn back to the boy and he’s slipping his hand in his pocket and looking at you innocently. You hearing picks up on the sound of sizzling from something dissolving in your drink. The boy just makes conversation with you as you wonder what to do

“Lead him to a secluded bedroom” James whispers advice “and then make your kill”

You gave a slight nod and grab the boys hand who looks at you confused.

“Follow me” you command as you start to walk with his hand in yours “let’s take this to a more intimate setting”

The boy excitedly follows as you use your hearing to find an empty bedroom. When you find one you drag him inside and close and lock the door.

“Your so fucking hot” he crudely says as you approach and he goes to kiss you. You dodge his kiss and put your mouth on his neck. He assumed that you were giving him a hickey “fuck yes”

You feel his pulse quicken as you dug your fangs into his fragile neck. You place your hand over his mouth to silence his cries of agony as your yellow eyes slowly turned red as you gulped down his fresh, fearful blood.

You always felt guilty after drinking from animals, they were innocent beings who didn’t deserve it. But some humans did deserve the cruelty of your fangs

His body dropped to the ground when you were done and you turned to find your three new friends staring at you in amusement.

Victoria throws her arms around you and hugs you

“You’ve get me feeling all proud like a big sister” she gushes as she helps you wipe blood from your blood

“Congrats kid” James says with a smile as he watches his mate fuss over you

They truly made you feel like you Belonged and even though they used child like pet names they treated you like an adult.

“Welcome to the club” Victoria says gleefully while she hugs you “little sis”

For the first time that nickname doesn’t breed disgust in your chest, instead you feel joy.

[haveyouheardthispodcast]

What are your personal favorite podcasts?

Mod Nic here, I just got access to the askbox (Thank you Mods Kat and Axe!) and I'll be getting to the asks and submissions in chronological order except I wanted to answer this first.

My top three podcasts I can't rank because they all feel incomparable. They are Welcome to Night Vale, Wolf 359, and Friends at the Table.

Welcome to Night Vale: A classic. I've listened to this at least four times. Of course, 20 new episodes come out a year (plus bonus episodes on Patreon and liveshows on Bandcamp) so I haven't listened to every episode four times, because on each listen it gets longer and longer. I found it summer of 2013 when I was on an international road trip and could only check Tumblr on my iPod Touch when the hostel/motel/airport/ferryport had WiFi. Everyone was talking about it so I used the Apple podcast app (before it was subsumed by iTunes (before it was later rejected by iTunes)) for the first time. I remember coming back to the US and being at my grandparents and excited for a good WiFi connection and a lack of time pressure so that I could reblog Night Vale art like everyone else. My comfort podcast. Despite many people comparing any fiction podcast to Welcome to Night Vale, the first one to feel similar on an emotional level to me is Hello From The Hallowoods. It has the same sense of yes, the world is filled with horrors, but life is beautiful nonetheless. A narrator's gentle voice will tell me the happenings of many people who may or may not know each other but still make up a broader community.

Wolf 359: This is not the first non-Night Vale podcast I listened to, but it was the one that unlocked podcasts for me. The first one that I could track easily and was always eager for the next episode. The first one that was dangerous for my sleep and my homework the way that books are dangerous — once I start I can't put it down. I started it early fall of 2016 at the beginning of my junior year of college. I remember walking around parks playing Pokémon Go and coloring a page of an adult coloring book. I believe I caught up at Memoria, which was amazing timing. Opposite of a comfort podcast. I think I've listened to seasons 1–3 twice, but since the show finished I can't listen to more than an episode without getting devastated by emotions. Second media property I've ever had a fic idea for that I really want to write.... just as soon as I can manage a relisten. Not really comparable except for that it also has a protagonist that is a diagetic narrator closely backed by an ensemble cast and a show-long plot (instead of a season-long plot), but Hi Nay is probably the fastest I've ever gone from hearing a podcast for the first time to backing it on Patreon (but it was more a replacement for The Magnus Archives in my listening schedule, turns out I need to be exercising to listen to horror).

Friends at the Table: An actual play podcast that ruined me for actual play podcasts. Started listening in 2017 after I needed to temporarily withdraw from school due to my health collapsing causing me to fail classes. I had been listening to The Adventure Zone, but I actually started it because so many amazing Wolf 359 fan artists and fic writers were making art and fic for F@tT and I just had to know what that was about. I caught up just in time to start with Spring in Hieron. Due to my personal audio issues, I often have no idea what's going on in the sci-fi seasons, but that hasn't stopped me from crying because of it anyways. I can give personalized recommended starting points if I know someone, but in general I'm a big advocate for starting with the very first episode. My favorite season is probably still Autumn in Hieron, despite the audio quality. The moment when an interpretation of a roll from a player caused the pirates to become undead pirates was probably the moment when I got excited about wanting to play tabletop roleplaying games myself. Since I found it I've bounced off of every single actual play podcast I've tried listening to, until a few months ago when I started the Ruin's Gate season of The Unexplored Places. Ruin's Gate has the distinction of being the first time I've been able to track what the rolls of a Forged in the Dark game mean from a narrative perspective instead of just a mechanics perspective.

—Mod Nic

[deanwinchesterswitch]

February 2023 Fic Rec List

All kinds of genres, but I think mostly fluffy romance and smut. Not necessarily together. 🤣

Some new-to-me authors, too!

Enjoy!

Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume; heed the warnings for each fic.

~Miscellaneous~

The Girl Called Sparrow ~ @watercolorfreckles. Author's Summary: None (Original Content; Fae x Human)

~MCU~

A Date With Danger ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: None (Bucky x Reader)

My Heart is Still Yours ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Stever Rogers x Gender Neutral Reader)

No Title ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: None (Valentine Drabble; Clint Barton x Reader)

Sugar ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The Unexpected Valentine ~ @cockslutpadalecki. Author's Summary: When you decide to spend your ruined Valentines getaway alone, you’re thankful for the peace and quiet but when a mysterious stranger catches your eye, your Valentines weekend turns out better than you ever imagined.

~RPF~

Before The Show ~ @wayward-dreamer. Author's Summary: Y/N finds a way to help with Jensen’s nerves before the concert.

No Title ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Sebastian Stan x Reader)

Something About Fate... Chapter 1 ~ @jawritter. Author's Summary: Y/N has been homeless and living on the streets of Dallas, Texas since the start of Covid. Until one day, a handsome, green eyes strange notices her and turns her whole world upside down.

~Supernatural~

A Few Moments of Madness ~ @smellingofpoetry. Author's Summary: “There were several things he shouldn’t have done that night, one in particular. He shouldn’t have fucked her on the kitchen counter.”

All Along The White Line ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Take a drive to nowhere with your favorite Winchester…

Bubble Bath ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean Winchester x Reader)

Caught Up In You ~ @lanea-1. Author's Summary: None (Dean x Reader)

I Don't Mind ~ @avanatural. Author's Summary: Four different hunts. Four shared motel rooms, four shared bathrooms, four shared beds. And four times that Y/N doesn’t mind getting closer to Dean.

Imagine Dean being flirty whenever you have to work alone together on a case... ~ @supernaturalfreewill. Author's Summary: None (Imagine/Drabble)

In Living Color ~ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior. Author's Summary: Y/N never knew how much color existed in the world till a green-eyed hunter stumbled into her path.

Love is in the little things ~ @thinkinghardhardlythinking. Author's Summary: Dean shows the reader he cares as they bond over the season finale of ‘Dr Sexy MD’.

Magical Blooms ~ @iprobablyshipit91. Author's Summary: None (Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

Mine ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Dean gets a little rough with you, leaving lovely little marks behind so you remember who owns you…

No Title ~ @girl-next-door-writes. Author's Summary: None (Valentine Drabble; Dean x Reader

No Title ~ @thoughtslikeaminefield. Author's Summary: None (Ficlet; Dean x GN Reader)

Nothing Left To Say ~ @kittenofdoomage. Author's Summary: You let it lie too long, and now it’s time to move on. It’s escaping unnoticed that’s the problem.

She Smiles ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean x Reader)

So, How 'Bout It? ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean x Reader)

Used to This-Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V ~ @trexrambling. Author's Summary: You’ve lived with the Winchesters for years as a fellow hunter, and everyone has always stayed well in the friend zone. What happens when nightmares come haunting and Dean offers to help? Will things change, or is it all in your head?

~The Boys~

Checkerboard ~ @zepskies. Author's Summary: You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

No Title ~ @charnelhouse. Author's Summary: None (Soldier Boy x F!Reader)

~Top Gun: Maverick~

Stick The Landing-Part 1-No One's In The Room Mini Series ~ @princessmisery666. Author’s Summary: Good news, they made it to the safe house. Bad news, a blizzard hinders their rescue. (Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Ryleigh 'Rodeo')

Personal Vegas-Part 2-No One's In The Room Mini Series ~ @princessmisery666. Author’s Summary: As much as Jake would like everyone to believe he’s the terminator, Ryleigh doesn’t buy it. Stranded for a few days, she tries to discover who he is when no one else is in the room. Jake worries about being vulnerable and doesn’t make it easy for her. (Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Ryleigh 'Rodeo')

On Patreon

~Supernatural~

Rebekah Jordan (Impala-Dreamer)

Colder Weather ~ Summary: Dean’s always been the one for you, but his life - hunting, fighting, almost dying constantly- it hasn’t given you a chance to try. Until one day, things seem to change…

Every Inch of You ~ Summary: None (Dean x Reader)

Of Whipped Cream and Body Heat ~ Summary: After getting jumped on a hunt, Y/N and Dean find themselves locked in a walk-in refrigerator. Can they brave the cold and each other's temper until Sam sets them free?

thinkinghardhardlythinking

Someone To Watch Over Me-Parts 6-9 ~ Summary: Y/N is married to a very rich, decidedly unscrupulous and powerful man.  A man whose inability to trust means he hires someone to watch over his wife while he isn’t around. He hires Dean Winchester, a handsome stranger to Y/N, who is soon to become a very big part of her life.

[starry-blue-echoes]

Ok rapid fire

Jojo Pose by Apollo Fresh ;)))

The Joestars in general: Light em up x Radioactive by Exostomp Music, Sinners by Barns Courtney, Glitter & Gold by Barns Courtney, Legacy by THINKTANK, Cannonball by 8 Graves, Children of the Stars by Bella Goldwin x Oliver Lie (they're the joeSTARS), Revolution by The Score, Larger Than Life by pinkzebra, Industry Baby by Lil Nas X, Red by Aviators (acoustic version), STAR WALKIN' by Lil Nas X, We Rise by Aviators

Golden WInd: Gansta's Paradise by Coolio

Stardust Crusaders: Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears, Around The World by Daft Punk

Diamond is Unbreakable: No Lullaby by Siames

Jonathan: House of Memories by Panic At The Disco (him towards Dio if that makes sense), Warriors by Imagine Dragons, Witness the Masterpiece by GANYOS (man carries the whole joestar legacy on his back), Warrior Spirit by Samuel Day, FALLEN LEAVES by Miracle of Sound

Joseph: World at our feet by Timmy Trumpet, Can I Get A Witness by Sonreal

Jotaro: Crossfire by Stephen (all the shit that happened in sdc), In My Zone by Moody Mourad (his self reliance), Horizon by Amongst Wolves (Dio's influence over his whole life+his trauma), Ghost of You by Charlie PS (more dio trauma), Hey Brother by Avicii, I Am a Stone by Demon Hunter, Dead Weight by BRKN LOVE, Tough Guy by BENEE, Godhunter by Aviators (he kills Dio, which means "god in italian so), Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys (vibes), Freight Train by Smash Into Pieces

Josuke: Die Young by Kesha, La La La by Area 21, Listen Up! by Excuses Excuses

Giorno: Dare To Dream by Glow Beets (I, Giorno Giovanna, have a dream,), Tidal Wave by Portugal. The Man (he turned the entire mafia in italy on it's head in a week)

Jolyne: Angels by Vicetone, THAT BITCH by Bea Miller (could work for Ermes as well), Hell No! by Mel Senese, Deal With It by Ashnikko (her avoidance of marriage to Anasui lul), Mother's Daughter by Miley Cyrus, Bad Things by NOT THE MAIN CHARACTERS

Dio: Making Love To the Dead by Beginners, Applause by Lady Gaga, Rituals by Jiovanni Daniel, Vampire by Lazyboy Empire, Bad by Royal Deluxe, Villain by Garvie, Liar by Jake Daniels, Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land by Marina, Oh No! by Marina, Villain by K/DA, Good To Be Bad by CRMNL, Phonky Town by PlayaPhonk (dio walk), The Cult Of Dionysus by The Orion Experience, Supernatural by Barns Courtney, Babylon by Dirt Poor Robins, Brad Pitt by COIN, The Rose That Poisoned The Ground by El Misti (he fucked up the entire joestar family), I'm Back by Royal Deluxe (him coming back in part 3), Forevermore by Ghost Nation, Don't You Dare Forget The Sun by Get Scared, The Greatest by REACH (there's a lyric which goes "the one with the greatest seed" and dio has like four kids lmao), Hypnotized by Set It Off (the flesh buds)

Wammu: Eye of The Storm by Watt White

(no Esidisi bc I don't know enough about his character)

Kars: Black Mambo by Glass Animals (vibes really), La Espada by Eternal Raijin, Bird by Joh Yoban

Kira: Slavonic Epoch by Tombstone (repairing the mistake he made of letting the enemy know his identity and fixing it), Houdini by AViVA (mans barely escaped getting killed. and he's insane), Hey Brother by Jakob Samuel ("your secret's well protected" "and the ghost under your bed so far away" "the devil's coming"), Faith by Karen Aoki ( ;) )

Diavolo: Dark Red by Steve Lacy (his paranoia towards getting his identity discovered), Play Dirty by Kevin McAllister (mentions the devil and he "plays dirty" by almost killing his own daughter to make sure no one finds out his identity)

Pucci: Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga, Preaching To The Choir by Alex Runo (he is literally a priest), Honey I'm Home by GHOST (religion in like. an evil way), Devil by Alex Runo (more religion), Creature by Half Alive, The Beast by Old Caltone (heavy religious vibes), Preach by SAINT MOTEL, Babylon by Dirt Poor Robins, My Church by Aviators (he is religious), Lust For A Vampyr by I Monster (dio follower)

Speedwagon: One Way Mirror by Christopher Kenji (mans literally had BLADES IN HIS HAT he was so inventive and had a lot of tricks up his sleeve)

Caesar: Rise Up by Smash Into Pieces (reminds me of how his life was cut short and he spent his last moments to help Joseph win), Put In The Time by Future Royalty (he put his all into hamon training), Curses by The Crane Wives (the zeppeli curse), All That Glitters by Earl (vibes ONLY), Skyfall by Adele, Blossom by Reckless Jacks

Kakyoin: Skin and Bones by Cage the Elephant, Brothers by SIAMES (his first friends with the sdc were like his brothers), Washing Machine Heart by Mitski (this song has the vibes of something dying too young), Take The Fall by JAXSON GAMBLE ( he dies to help the crusaders), Mountain Sound by Of Monsters And Men, Skyfall by Adele (both Caesar and Kakyoin get this song ok), It's All Happening by SAINT MOTEL, Cherry's Bent by STRAINJER (cherry), All Comes Crashing by Metric, Fish in a Birdcage by Fish in a Birdcage (kakyoin as a child being alone, and probably hoping to be surrounded by people that understood him)

Avdol: Exposed by Matt Fees, Pheonix by Fall Out Boys (fire, he basically came back to life), Fire by Barns Courtney, Grumpy Sun by Shannon Clark & the Sugar (vibes again)

Polnareff: Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes, Enchante by Dirt Poor Robins, When Honor Dies by Miracle of Sound

Okuyasu: Losemyhead by littleDEATH, Bang by Sir Sly

Koichi: Stockholm Syndrome by Sofia Karlberg

Bruno: River by BRKN LOVE (it has his vibes ok), White Lies by Max Frost (him to Diavolo), Dance with the Devil by Fame Cartel (the devil...LIKE DIAVOLO?)

Abbacchio: Hurt by Oliver Tree, Lovely by Billie Eilish BUT the cover by Beneath My Skin, Cold World by 8 Graves, Bittersweet by The Galactic Effect

Naranchia: D.A.N.C.E. by Justice (you know why)

Mista: All Eyes On You by Smash Into Pieces, Kick by Saint Chaos, Bullet by SAINT MOTEL, Roses Or Blood by Actice Captive

Trish: High Waist To Hell by Cloudy June, Bubblegum Bitch by Marina And The Diamonds

Fugo: Go To War by Nothing More (shows his anger AND Fugo was originally supposed to be an enemy spy), Bad Faith by 8 Graves

Ermes: Deal With It by Ashnikko (look it fits her too ok. it has her sass), Might Heart by Acid Arcade, My Time To Shine by UPSAHL, YES MOM by Tessa Violet, Bad Things by NOT THE MAIN CHARACTERS

F.F.: Wait A Minute! By Willow Smith (vibes), Jackpot by TheFatRat (more vibes), Bad Things by NOT THE MAIN CHARACTERS

Weather Report: Better Off Dead by 8 Graves (him after getting his memories back), New Depression by Mark Doucette (also him after getting his memories back), Lost by Ghost Nation (his memories are lost), Rain by Grandson (rain), Veteran of the Psychic Wars (he had his memories stolen which had a lot of trauma a stuff)

Anasui: Destination Unknown (the music video is explicit and when Anasui breaks out of prison he just follows Weather Report lmao), Beggin' by Maneskin, Come Back Down by Trevor Something (him to jolyne lmao)

Emporio: Saviour by Jennings Couch (him basically getting together the whole squad to save the day), Ship In A Bottle by Steffan Argus (survivor's guilt after watching all his friends die after failing to protect them), GOD OF FAILURE by WITCHZ (survivor's guilt again)

Songs I don't know what to do with but go somewhere: Eye For An Eye by 8 Graves, Freaks by Timmy Trumpet, Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier (I honestly just really love this song and feel as if it could fit someone in this list that is like...addicted to something and that's like their flaw or something. Maybe Dio with power), C'est La Vie by Weathers, Moonshine by Caravan Palace, Hold On by Unknown Chapters, Hell's Coming With Me by Poor Man's Poison, Ain't No Rest For The Wicked by Cage The Elephant, What, Me Worry? by Portugal. The Man, Menace by Rezz, The Wolf by Siames, After Midnight by Darren Day, Devil by Twice is Nice, Crash And Burn by Unlike Pluto, Bones by Imagine Dragons, One In The Same by BRKN LOVE, Let There Be Fire by Aviators

there's more characters I could've done but like it took literal hours to get all this so...anyway. lemme know what you think :)))

-ffa

I

I am in awe and absolute terror of your power because anon how the every living fUCK DID YOU FIT THAT MANY CHARACTERS I A SINGLE ASK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST-

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Someone called the motel and asked for a room for February 24th. I told him we're completely booked up, and he started yelling at me about how it's impossible because he called yesterday and was told it was wide open. I worked yesterday, and we were completely booked then too, so that's a bold faced lie. He tells me he already had a room for the 23rd, and wanted to book a new room for the 24th, and I explained again that we have no openings that weekend.

"What do you mean WEEKEND? I want a full WEEK!"

"WE DO NOT HAVE A FULL WEEK. WE DO NOT HAVE SEVEN DAYS OPEN IN A ROW. We are COMPLETELY booked up on the 24th, 25th, 27th, and 28th. We have ONE opening for ONE NIGHT ONLY on the 26th. That is ONE NIGHT. ONE. Check in the 26th, check out the morning of the 27th. NOT A FULL WEEK." Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Check my reservation, make sure nobody deleted it."

"Fine. What is your name?"

"[Asshole McCaserole]"

"We don't have you in our system for the 23rd. Are you absolutely sure you booked at THIS motel? This is [motel name], not [other motel with similar name/phone number]."

"I'm not coming in on the 23rd! I'm coming in on the 17th!"

Turns out when he said 23rd and 24th, what he meant was 2023 and 2024, but he didn't say that. He didn't say "twenty-three" or "twenty-four," he very specifically said "twenty-third" and "twenty-fourth" as if they were dates, not years. I have never once in my entire life heard a human being refer to the year as an ordinal number. What, are you a founding father? "This be the one thousand seven hundred and eighty-ninth year of our lord."

Am I in the Twilight Zone, or are people getting 'stupider' by the day? These people are morons! They've heard of numbers before, they're vaguely aware that dates go up as time goes by, but they're not entirely sure how to add 1 to a number. When they say "I want to book a room from the 12th to the 14th," what they means is "the 12th to the 15th," because they're including the 14th as part of their stay instead of their departure. And sometimes they don't mean the 12th either! Sometimes, they'll just show up a day early because they think the dsy they arrive doesn't count. "We arrive on the 11th in the afternoon, but that's less than half a day. Our first full 24-hour day isn't until the 12th."

Is this how hotels work in other states or other countries? Are these esoteric mind games, or are the tourists just dumb? Have they never stayed at a hotel before? Have they never scheduled ANYTHING in their entire lives? Do words have meaning in their own little fantasy worlds?

February 24th means the 24th day of February, not the month of February in the year 2024.

[gloryride]

*rubs hands* E N Z O + J A Y

hehe :P

Ah ah you're so proud of this ! you could do better, like 2000s crackships when they mixed names, would be Jaysenzo xD works too well, that's absurd Have fun 💞

answers for A to Z nsfw asks

ENZO

E - Experiment - Are they eager to try new things in bed, or do they prefer more traditional love-making?

He's more into traditional love-making, and that's good enough for him. He's not against trying out new things, getting out of his comfort zone, as long as he talks about it with his partner and both agree, because he doesn't like it when it's imposed on him. But this new experience is rather occasional, just for fun now and then.

N - Nature - Have they ever thought about having sex outside, or doing other inappropriate things there? 

Doing it outside is more normal for him to do it between four walls on a bed. He has a tent with a comfortable bed inside, but rarely uses it. Enzo is more inclined to outdoor activities, often against or in his car, but also wherever he feels like it and what's around him. After all, he's always on the road, always between errands, so there's rarely much indoors to fuck in. He does sleep in the occasional motel, but even there, he's often alone.

Now that he's with Jay, he can crash in an apartment, but as the two chaotic guys they are, it won't be the most used place (I remember from your answers hehe), the parking lot is often more used than the bedroom xD

Z - Zoinks - Have they ever been caught/compromised? How did they react?

The problem with banging outdoors, even in the middle of nowhere, is that there's always a chance someone will catch you. Enzo's been caught a few times, but he didn't give a shit. Often he'd stop, tell the person to piss off because he's busy, and go back to what he was doing. He said the same thing to a Militech agent when he was parked on the side of the road. The agent didn't like this, of course, so Enzo jumped behind the wheel, sped off and escaped from the corpo, before stopping a few kilometers later, looking at his partner and saying, "So, where were we??" (see here how adrenalin turns him on).

What really turns him off is being surprised by his parents. They don't care, they just go into the tent to talk and come right out. On one occasion, his father even knocked on the car window to tell him that the break was over. Radical to stop any mood…

O - Oscar - Do they enjoy role-playing? 

He's never taken it seriously, never really had the opportunity. It's mostly light play, more for laughs, than real sex play. As I said earlier, he's not closed to the idea, but he's not the one to suggest it.

J - Jungle - How well groomed is their carpet, etc.? 

It's hard enough for the poor boy to maintain a decent beard, so the rest…. Enzo has Mediterranean blood, he's not Italian for nothing, he's hairy. On his arms, under his arms, on his chest and, of course, on his lower part. He tries to trim from time to time to avoid getting hair anywhere, but he's not the most assiduous. Sorry not sorry !

A - Acrobatics - How bendy can they get in bed? What is their favourite position?

Which bed? Enzo is more into outdoor activities, so his bed is rather quiet. But he's agile, he needs to be able to move around and be quite flexible when he's car-fucking, especially as he's a boy of almost 1.90 m, with another boy as tall as Jay (also very horny and impatient).

His favorite position? Pinning the other against the car or against a wall, either with his back to him, to make him lean over the hood of the car, or face to face, where he can lift his partner, because yes, baby driver has strength ! But what he likes most of all, I think, is to have his sexy driver astride him, so he can touch him and kiss him all over the body. He'll prefer to manage the pace, but Jay doesn't always go for it, this brat !

Y - Yoyo - What does their toy collection look like?

Enzo hasn't used toys for a long time, he's just let himself be tempted by chance. Let me tell you a story: Virgil had to go and see Wakako on Jig Jig and took his brother along. While waiting for the conversation to end, Enzo wandered around the stores, discovering things he'd never seen before. He was both fascinated and horrified by certain things. He did, however, come away with a masturbating egg. He wasn't expecting anything but a gadget, and he really liked it. They use it occasionally, because it distends pretty quickly and he still doesn't feel like going on Jig Jig when he's in town.

[filmjoyreviews]

REVIEW: Wes Anderson's Charming and Visually Stunning ASTEROID CITY

Wes Anderson's latest film Asteroid City tells a story in multiple levels, exploring the complexities of life through three different realities of its characters.

Walking Off Stage

Asteroid City centers on a play--exploring the creatives behind and in front of the camera--which is based on 'actual events'. The film highlights the depths of performance by showing actors on stage (as well as walking off stage, becoming themselves in these brief backstage moments) and the characters they portray in depictions of the real events.

There is an interesting focus on the complexity of performing as we see actors leave their performances to literally walk off stage in order to learn more about their characters and their motivations. Asteroid City flows, allowing the audience to follow these movements with ease and in turn learn more about the characters.

The framing of Asteroid City brings to mind Michael Frayn's farcical play Noises Off, which depicts the first act of a play within a play through three performances, showing how the backstage dynamics between actors impact what happens within the play they are performing.

Grief Expressed

Jason Schwartzman's performance as Augie (or the actor portraying Augie in Asteroid City the play) is the center of this immensely interesting film, showing the impacts of grief left ignored.

Augie hid his wife's death from his four children for three weeks and we are introduced to him as he finally comes clean, but is still numb, not accepting her death himself.

Throughout Asteroid City, there are memorable moments when Augie seems distant from everyone around him (in addition to being literally cut off from the world in the small town of Asteroid City). The film's mantra of "You can't wake up if you don't fall asleep" seems to be suggesting how we cannot work through our grief unless we admit and accept it.

Augie's grief is present throughout the film in how Schwartzman portrays his character's disinterest in a beautiful way where we always knows how much feeling is hidden behind Augie's outward numbness.

This exploration of grief also ties into our experiences with the pandemic. The characters of Asteroid City are experiencing their own quarantine, showing how being cut off from the world and their normal lives impacts each character.

Visual Style and Production Design

As a fan of Wes Anderson's filmography, I am always excited to see how he captures specific eras with his unique vision. Asteroid City is yet another visully stunning film, which perfectly captures the televised nostalgia-fueled 1950s, which works perfectly with the film's multilayered story built around this all being a story depicted in the 1950s.

The small town with its motels, diners, and cigarette vending machines recalls the 50s we see depicted in films and in roadside attractions, building an aesthetic based around the nostalgia we feel for an era we never experienced.

Bryan Cranston's radio broadcaster recalls Rod Serling's Twilight Zone introductions. The 'actual events' depicted with their pastel colors, eye-catching symmetry, and brilliant use of negative space create a world which looks idyllic and claustrophobic.

The wide-open spaces of the desert are intentionally reminiscent of the stages our characters walk from throughout the film, tying the stage with its 'real life' segments.

The blue sky and rock formations throughout the desert feel open and free, but also feel like walls closing in our characters, quarantining them even more within their closed-off small town.

Asteroid City's Charm and Heart

There is a charm in Asteroid City that reminds me of Wes Anderson's earlier films, especially Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums.

Jason Schwartzman gave a wonderful performance, especially exploring the different levels of his character--highlighting Augie as both a person and a performance being given in the film's play within a radio broadcast within a film, but I am left wanting more time to feel like I am truly seeing the character.

Asteroid City does well in creating a character who feels central to the story, which can sometimes get lost in Anderson's large ensemble films.

Augie and his family stand out within the film, and I am constantly drawn in by these characters, especially Augie's triplet daughters. Some of the film's funniest and most darkly comedic moments come from the triplets' interactions with their family and other characters.

Their scenes are some of the most memorable and most charming throughout Asteroid City, especially the moments which explore how they react to Augie finally sharing the news of their mother's death. Seeing how differently this same emotional experience impacts father and daughters is one of Asteroid City's biggest highlights.

Conclusion

Asteroid City's heart comes from Jason Schwartzman's captivating performance. The film explores grief and the complexity of performances with a beautiful pastel daydream--capturing the mid-century modern atomic age through its use of color and space.

[party-kat]

Ok I have been thinking a lot about the danger days fandom from about 2015-2019 ish? I was wondering if you remember any of the specific lore that fans made up from that time? I found a google doc from around 2017 with some slang and ideas on the what killjoy society would be like and I can’t stop thinking about it T-T I can’t remember anyone else that I still follow that were even loosely involved at the time besides you and like one or two other people.

Oh geez I’m vintage now lol

Hmmm.. I do remember some- like different characteristics people gave to the Fab Four and my own headcanons (they never made it past 50 notes lol)

The first things that came to mind was the general personalities and backstories:

Party poison- progressive and empathetic maniac with a gun, some headcanons said they and Kobra weren’t siblings and met up later but general consensus was that poison was a city born and escaped as a young adult, the parentified big brother

Fun Ghoul- shoot first ask questions later, fiercely protective of friends, in love w poison generally agreed that he was one of the first in the desert or was desert born, but once saw a few hcs that said he used to be a drac, the shoner cousin

Jet star- the responsible one ready to crack skulls when necessary, poisons best friend, sometimes hc as desert born/neutral born, sometimes he as city born who escaped as an adult, I think was usually seen as one of the oldest or most recent escapee, the mom

Kobra kid- quiet but will fight to the death, has endured the most trauma than the rest, jet stars best friend, a lot of hcs said they and poison weren’t siblings and found each other as young adults recently escaped to the desert, generally considered a city born kid, the cool uncle

Random hcs:

There were many different gangs (good and bad) Including serial killers and bandits

I hc that there was a ‘neutral’ group of killjoy that provided “totally real info” to bli in exchange for wholesale supplies that were eventually sold to gas stations and motels like tommy chow mein (I mean how else did any of those guys survive out there in a post atomic desert??)

The “killjoy” zones weren’t exclusive to Southern California- bli actuyovertook the entire US and there would be killjoy zones in most major cities like Detroit, New York, etc.

The witch was totally real and basically the patron saint of the killjoys (there were a couple ask the witch blogs that were SO COOL—- I miss them :(

There’s definitely more but I would have to know what specifically about the world/characters you’d want to hear.

I remember drafthearse/ktzart had an askthekilljoys type blog that ran until 2019 w cool art and concepts

Hope this helped some though!!! Feel free to ask me more I just need my memory jogged a bit

Thank you so much for still following and remembering me- even if I’m not as dedicated to the killjoy persona anymore!!!!!!!

The internet is such a cool place :*3

~keep runnning, babe~

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 12: looking upon a monster

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDED MENTIONS OF SELF HARM, ABANDONMENT, SELF LOATHING, AND INCLUDES A MENTAL BREAK DOWN THAT LEADS TO VIOLENCE. 

[Normal pov]

Shortly after landing I called Archer and arranged a black S.U.V. arranged to pick up Steve, Irving and I. Archer advised me that given the location it would be about thirty minutes to pick us up from the private airstrip.

"So where are we staying Ms. Lancaster?" Irving asked holding a black and silver case with a Tricell logo on it.

"Oh, my apologies Mr. Irving I forgot to inform you of the arrangements. We will be staying at the Pheonix Core hunting lodge. It's a four-star lodge with full accommodations and to mention it is the location of one of my contacts." I spoke with sincerity.

"Wow, that is better than what Excella normally arranges." He states excitedly.

"I had hoped so. The lodge is a remnant of my teacher's legacy. It should be more homely than a Holiday or Hilton inn." I spoke exhausted from the plane ride and sat on the blacktop.

"Alistar are you okay?" Steve asked.

"Yea just a mix of jet lag and exhaustion. I hate planes." I said shaking my head, " I know they're safe but I never feel right after getting off one.".

"Where are we anyway?" Irving asked starting out at the trees in a distance.

"A forest in the southeast part of Ohio, just over two hours from our transaction location. The lodge is tucked away in the forest. This is a private airstrip from the days the Umbrella facility was active." I spoke pointing out the lights in the distance, "That area is the biohazard zone."

Steve looked very concerned, "Why is the lodge so close to it?"

"Who better to keep it on lockdown than the people my teacher trained to handle B.O.Ws and outbreak situations. If a biohazard were to happen the Pheonix Corps would mobilize." I said.

At that point, everyone went quiet as a loud howl pierced the silence.

"It seems I may need to have Archer started on that. After all the Ohio base is the one Wesker sent us to, maybe he knows something they don't." I stared out into the forest.

"You keep bringing up Pheonix core and Pheonix corps. Just who the Hell are they?" Irving asked, "I've never heard of them."

"That's by choice." A thickly accented voice said stepping from black Escalade, "Ms. Tabitha wanted to be sure we weren't found by the Connections, the Simmons family, anyone who would want to harm her. She gave her self up to Umbrella by returning to Raccoon city after the mansion incident. She had us up and running after using the money she saved to open a chain of pastry shops and a motel. We were privately funded by a trust she set up without Sergei's knowledge and our profits. 

An Indian man in a dark blue collar shirt with swept-back black hair with matching blue lowlights now stood in the headlights. This made me smile in relief. The person who stood there was Archer.

"Archer! You startled me." I smiled pushing myself up and dusting my ass off.

"Ms. Lancaster, I'm relieved to see you unharmed. Is the Angelis stable or do I need to escort you to the lab when we arrive at our destination." Archer look concerned seeing me exhausted.

"No, no I'm alright. I just need some food and some rest. I FUCKING HATE FLYING." I said exhausted, "Sigh, Archer please assist Mr. Burnside and Mr. Irving with loading the cargo. I need a quick rest. We can address your concerns once we arrive, I promise."

"Alistar are you sure you are ok?" Steve asked lifting a large cache case.

"I'm sure, it's just jet lag." I said walking over to the S.U.V. and hoping in the driver's seat.

Steve and Archer looked at each other clearly concerned for me. I was anxious about the state of the nearby forests. Those howls were of Cerberus without a doubt there was activity from the base.

While Archer helped out Mr. Irving and Steve, I decided to make a call to Wesker.

Ring...Ring, "Wesker here." He spoke.

"Agent Lancaster, reporting in sir. We have landed and are heading to the lodgings." I spoke direct and pointed. I was letting my training I received from Sergei show.

"Ah good, Ms. Lancaster I was expecting your report. Ms. Gionne told me she had arranged two suites at a Hilton inn near Pittsburgh is that your destination." He inquired.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Ms. Excella never told Irving, Steve or me about this. Mr. Irving even said that he was told and I quote "That filthy mutt doesn't deserve to use my connections." Do what you will with that, it's not my place to say my thoughts on the matter." I stated as the trunk opened.

"Then where are you located?" He sounded furious.

"Sir calm yourself, we are about two hours and eleven minutes from the deal location and we have full accommodations. Two suites and a personal room for myself, at no charge and off of the books for them." I stated point blankly.

He stopped himself and breathed deeply, "How did you manage..."

"My teacher had deep ties and even deeper pockets. It's the hunting lodge she opened just after the mansion incident. It's her staff that run the place. It's in a forest in Ohio near an old Umbrella lab." I spoke, "Pheonix Core Lodge, location of the Pheonix Corps."

Dead silence from the other end of the line. I had a feeling dropping Pheonix Corps in the conversation peak his interest. The name was bare known of and even more sparsely discussed. What Archer had said was mostly accurate. Ever since Sergei died I mentioned it to a lady named Jessica who I had cornered after Chris told me of her.

"Seems she still manages to still remain prevalent after all these years." He sounded very contemplative over what he just heard.

"Is there something wrong sir?" I asked switching my tone to a more soft pitch.

That shook him out of it, "No I was just thinking that other connections she has. Report before the deal the equipment I've provided Steven with will allow me to view the mission through a point of view camera in the headset. I want to make sure I haven't made a mistake by not just killing you two months ago."

He hung up after saying that and it made me go numb. That tone was terrifying and I had heard it before. When he shot me in Russia. I must work harder to gaining his trust. If I didn't everything will fall from underneath me not him.

"Hey Alistar you're looking very pale are you sure you're ok?" Steve got in the passenger seat behind the driver's side.

"Huh oh, yea I'm fine just reported into Wesker. Hell has no fury like a superhumans scorn." I chuckled wiping the newly formed sweat from my brow.

Irving soon got in and Archer followed suit. He started the engine and drove off. He offered a couple of water bottles to us. We declined and the rest on the ride was silent. Steve was reading a book and Irving was on his PDA.

The drive was relatively short thirty minutes max since we used the private route. One of my orders for Juna was to make sure we had private access to this strip. As much as I hate Umbrella, the funds that came from Albert's life insurance is what started this. A benefit from Umbrella...I'm such a fucking hypocrite sometimes and It sickens me. Archer makes it seem like it was money I earned by saving and giving up on my dreams to save the world. When in all honesty what I wanted to have a place to heal and the money from my husband's supposed death made me feel sick.

Looking off into the forest I shivered at a passing thought. This forest reminds me of the Arkley forest, where it all began. Juna looked over to me. I must off been wearing my heart on my sleeve because he grimaced as he did. 

"We can talk in my room later Archer. I can tell something is on your mind, but this isn't the place." I said staring straight ahead.

"Understood Ms. Lancaster, I'll speak with you later then." Archer stated and refocused on driving.

The rest of the drive was silent. 

-------------MEANWHILE (Wesker's P.o.V) -----------

I was sitting at my desk reviewing some files Ms. Lancaster brought. It was regarding Tabitha and how her mental state was affecting the Angelis Virus.  The correlation between the mutations and her anxiety levels were fascinating. 

The notes that were there explained Sergei had obtained her and infected her during a psychotic breakdown. The date that was notated for her capture was September 20th, 1998. Which didn't quite match with what Tabitha said in her first log. This made me want to dig deeper. There was a file attached to the notes. It was called NEST CCTV footage 748 before exposure. 

"Might as well," I muttered to myself clicking on to the link. It took a few moments for it to load when it loaded it showed Tabitha walking out of the NEST main elevator and being surrounded by an armed forces team. She was wearing a large jacket and was armed to the teeth; however, blood was dripping off her hand.

"Mrs. Wesker, why are you returning? You were instructed never to return unless called upon by Colonel Sergei!" an armed man shouted pointing his assault rifle at her.

She laughed, "Why I'm here to see Dr. Birkin, He has some explaining to do regarding my deceased husband. Now let me through or else." 

She stepped forward and the team trained the sights on her chest, "That's not happening now turn around!" the man shouted.

"That is how you want to handle this? That's fine. JUST DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YA FOOLS." she shouted flicking her thumb over a small black plastic item.

She rolled past them and the screen flashed. Shortly after that, it was clear she rigged C4 to the elevator and used the blast to take out the team. When the screen went back to normal it showed four armored bodies scattered and strewn about.

The film switched to show her storming down a hallway the jacket now completely gone more than likely destroyed in the blast. What she was wearing underneath was her U.B.C.S gear and bandages around her wrists which was the source of the dripping blood. The feeds changed again showing her approaching Willam and Annettes lab.

"Tabitha, What are you doing here? I checked on you a few days ago." Annette said walking out and looking concerned.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY ANETTE! I AM NOT HERE TO TALK TO YOU! WHERE IS WILLIAM!?!" she shouted.

"Then why are you here?" she stepped backed looking terrified, "And why do you need William?".

"DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME! DO YOU ALL THINK I AM A MORON!?!" Tabitha shrieked lividly clawing at her left eye, "I'll only ask one last time. Where is Willam?".

"Anette, What's going out here? What's with all the shouting?" William walked into view of the camera probably walking out of his lab, "Oh, hey T how are you? You seem more well kept today are you finally starting to get.." 

Tabitha pulled her Samurai Edge out, quickly fired a round at Willam and pointed the gun at his head, "That was a warning shot and it is the only one there will be. NOW, WHERE IS HE WILLIAM? WHERE IS ALBERT?!"

William looked shocked at the way she was acting and went pale, "Anette go, I can handle this. What are you talking about T? He is dead you know that as well as I!".

She walked up to him and kicked him square in the shin as Anette ran off and he fell on to his knees, "DO NOT LIE TO  ME, I SAW WHAT YOU AND HE HAD PLANNED. I SAW THE PLANS TO USE AN EXPERIMENTAL VIRUS INCASE SHIT HIT THE FAN. I SAW THE PLANS FOR BOTH TO JOIN THE US GOVERNMENTS B.O.W TEAM. I WILL ONLY ASK ONE MORE TIME!" she cocked her gun, "WHERE THE FUCKING HELL IS ALBERT WESKER!?!".

He looked stared at her feet his hands up, "You looked in our private files from just before the Mansion incident then." William sighed, "Yes that was the plan. Spencer gave me the virus. I was supposed to hear from him by yesterday. I haven't. T stop this, this isn't what Wesker would want! You meant the world to him. He wouldn't want you to do this. He never would intentionally try to hurt you! " 

"DO WHAT!?! GO INSANE!? OR MAYBE HURTING MYSELF!? IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN!! NOT TO MENTION IT DOESN'T MATTER IF HE TRIED TO HURT ME OR NOT!! THE DAMAGE WAS DONE!! I HAVE NO ONE LEFT!! YOU AND ANETTE KEEP YOUR DISTANCE FROM ME!! MY OWN BROTHER AND SISTER BLAME ME FROM THE LOSS OF OUR FRIENDS!!! EVEN I THOUGH I LEFT  UMBRELLA IN '93!!! THE REST OF MY FRIENDS THINK I AM A MONSTER AS WELL!! I KNOW I CONTRIBUTED BUT I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE ANTIVIRUS!!! I DIDN'T MAKE THE B.O.Ws!!" Tabitha cried out dropping to her knees and holstered her gun, "I have nothing left and it's due to my old association with Umbrella."

William stood up and wrapped his arms around her and embraced her in a hug, "I'm sorry we kept our distance we thought to help by separating you from Umbrella more than you were now. I'll keep you safe."

That was when she went limp, "Unfortunately, Dr. Birkin that is not your place." a familiar thick Russian accent was heard. Sergei walked in to frame with Anette as well as an Ivan. 

"Colonel Sergei What did you do!?!" William shouted worried holding Tabitha's limp body which now appeared to be foaming at the mouth.

"Taking care of a loose end Dr. Birkin. Just look at what she did to you, to your wife, the facility, even herself." he removed the bandages from her arms revealing deep gashes barely starting to scab traveling up her arm, "It is surprising she even made it this far. Clearly, She was on the warpath and going to bring everything down that she felt was in her way. The medication will make sure she passes from blood loss soon enough."

"But sir!" William shouted.

"No buts Birkin, these were Spencer's orders and nothing you say can change them." Sergei motioned and the tyrant picked up her body and walked out of frame. Tabitha's blood slowly dripping from the wound, "Ivan is taking her body to a gurney over by the medical elevator if you want to go make peace with her I would do it now. It is the last time you will see her.".

The feed ended. That was the last contact Tabitha had with anyone before Sergei had captured her. Vladimir noted he had used a drug to the heartbeat to a near standstill. Which not only slowed her bleed and convinced both Dr. Birkins that she had passed. Sergei had her wheeled to a medical helicopter and placed on life support for transport to the Caucasus facility. Where she was injected with the experimental Angelis virus and kept in a cryo tank until October 5th,1998. 

On the day Sergei woke her, her eyes had changed to a striking blue with a bright grey outline and slitted pupils. Her body had accepted the virus. What the Colonel did expect was that was her mental state was the same as it was when she burst into NEST. Her nails turned into claws and her hair turned a ghost white.

 Vladimirs last notes made pissed me off, "She is now the monster she always she feared she was and that is never going to change now."

I turned off the monitor and took off my sunglasses. Looking upon my reflection in the computer, I felt my anger rising. These irises nearly matched how Vladimir described Tabitha's eyes, the only difference was that the colors were on the opposite end of the spectrum. While hers were blue and a silverish in color mine were reddish-orange and gold in color. 

"Is that what I am looking upon then. Are these the eyes of a monster then?" I let out a chuckle, "For all I see Is a God.".

(chapter endnotes)

Hey everyone Sliva here, If anyone you know or you are going thru a hard time and are considering self-harm or suicide please reach out to someone. I know it sounds repetitive but there are people that care and would miss you. The U.S.A. suicide 24-hour suicide hotline number is 1-800-273-8255 and if you feel you need to go somewhere reach out to your local crisis shelters. These people are here to help. They help me go through a very hard patch in my life which in turn allowed me to write this story for you all. I hope everyone stays strong. My name is Silfarianhawk and I am not so far away. Please take care.

[noloveforned]

no love for ned is back on the holiday train after ten years! tune into wlur at 8pm tonight for four hours of holiday hits. we'll be rebroadcasting the 2012 holiday show at 8pm followed by two hours of new holiday hits at 10pm. if you miss it tonight, don't fear as they'll both re-air (in reverse order) next friday!

last week was the annual 'best of twenty year ago' show. over the course of four hours we heard from over sixty different records released in 2002. if you enjoyed the show, you can also check out the previous six retrospective shows spotlighting 2001, 2000, 1999, 1998, 1997, 1996 and 1995.

no love for ned on wlur – december 9th, 2022 from 8pm-midnight

artist // track // album // label evil wiener // koo koo // evil wiener presents billy sugarfix's lost gumdrop kingdom // smith level tullycraft // twee // beat surf fun // magic marker dressy bessy // there's a girl // sound go round // kindercore luna // lovedust // romantica // jetset spoon // the way we get by // kill the moonlight // merge the guild league // jet set... go! // private transport // matinée the national splits // afternoon was tight // the national splits // kittridge dear nora // on to september // the new year ep // magic marker darren hanlon // hiccups // hello stranger // candle belle and sebastian // scooby driver // storytelling // matador bikeride // fakin' amnesia // morning macumba // hidden agenda masters of the hemisphere // anything, anything // protest a dark anniversary // kindercore the sinking ships // out of key harmony // out of key harmony // darla track star // feet first // lion destroyed the whole world // better looking esg // it’s not me // step off // soul jazz yo la tengo // nuclear war (version two) // nuclear war ep // matador the blow // jet ski accidents // bonus album // k ugly casanova // things i don't remember // sharpen your teeth // sub pop vermont // ballad of larry bird // calling albany // kindercore matt pond pa // measure three // the green fury // polyvinyl azure ray // the new year // burn and shiver // warm electronic aarktica // nostalgia = distortion // or you could just go through your whole life and be happy anyway (bliss out, volume eighteen) // darla sigur rós // vaka // ( ) // mca múm // green green grass of tunnel // finally we are no one // fat cat the notwist // one with the freaks // neon golden // domino family fodder // tender words // tender words ep // dark beloved cloud flin flon // chicoutimi // chicoutimi ep // teenbeat the capricorns // the new sound // in the zone // paroxysm the apples in stereo // rainfall // velocity of sound // spinart the flaming lips // fight test // yoshimi battles the pink robots // warner bros. of montreal // jennifer louise // aldhils arboretum // kindercore jason anderson // astronaut, astronaut! // something/everything! // k sleater-kinney // oh! // one beat // kill rock stars rhett miller // this is what i do // the instigator // elektra guided by voices // back to the lake // universal truths and cycles // matador elvis costello // forty-five // when i was cruel // island brendan benson // you're quiet // lapalco // startime the arrogants // the distance between us // nobody's cool ep // shelflife cinerama // careless // torino // manifesto saturday looks good to me // diary // love will find you // whistletap acid house kings // sunday morning // mondays are like tuesdays and tuesdays are like wednesdays // labrador the brunettes // holding hands, feeding ducks // holding hands, feeding ducks // lil' chief mirah // cold cold water // advisory committee // k destroyer // this night // this night // merge june panic // see(ing) double // baby’s breadth // secretly canadian doleful lions // surfside motel // out like a lamb // parasol unbunny // swans are fainting // black strawberries // two-ton santa julie doiron // all their broken hearts // heart and crime // jagjaguwar jeffrey lewis // the chelsea hotel oral sex song // the last time i did acid i went insane // rough trade little wings // look at what the light did now // light green leaves // k lambchop // the daily growl // is a woman // merge beck // guess i'm doing fine // sea change // dgc johnny cash // hurt // american iv: the man comes around // american richard buckner // born into giving it up // impasse // overcoat songs: ohia // blue factory flame // didn’t it rain // secretly canadian the mendoza line // the triple bill of shame // lost in revelry // misra okkervil river // westfall // don't fall in love with everyone you see // jagjaguwar the mountain goats // the best ever death metal band in denton // all hail west texas // emperor jones dqe // i'm your girl // i'm your girl // dark beloved cloud swearing at motorists // this flag signals goodbye // this flag signals goodbye // secretly canadian low // in the drugs // trust // kranky

[uneasylisteningradio]

Loneliness October 1, 2022

stream on Mixcloud

Bay City Rollers - Saturday Night Pat Powdrill & The Powerdrills - They Are the Lonely

DJ speaks over The Debonairs - Lonely is the Summer

Joe Dassin - Comme la lune (Four Kinds of Lonely) Generacion Suicida - Dulce Soledad Katherine Henderson with Clarence Williams and His Orchestra - Lonesome Lovesick Blues Alien Nosejob - Phone Alone

DJ speaks over Ornette Coleman - Lonely Woman

Lime Crush - I Don't Wanna Die Alone Beck - I Get Lonesome Bill Withers - Lonely Town, Lonely Street Cosmic Overdose - Isolatorer The Pretty Things - Loneliest Person The Chefs - Commander Lonely

DJ speaks over Desmond Simmons - Alone on Penguin Island

Dick "Two Ton" Baker and His Music Makers - I'm a Lonely Little Petunia in an Onion Patch Lotte Lenya - Lonely House Space - Begin Again Husker Du - Don't Want to Know If You Are Lonely

DJ speaks over Malaria! - Einsam

Camille Yarbrough - Ain't It A Lonely Feeling Tres and Kitsy - If You Are Lonely TTL - Bored and Lonely Range Rats - Lonely Melvin Davis - Find a Quiet Place (And Be Lonely) The Carter Family - Happy Or Lonesome Guinea Pig - Lonely Sun Is Dead Mr. Wrong - Isolation Du Plenty

DJ speaks over The Ventures - Lonely Bull

Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers - Lonely Financial Zone Los Saicos - Lonely Star (Estrella solitaria) Merle Haggard - Why Should I Be Lonely? No Entry Band - Cold and Lonely Life Gino Soccio - So Lonely Joe Brown And His Bruvvers - Lonely Circus

DJ speaks over Graf Haufen - Allein

Leonard Cohen - A Bunch of Lonesome Heros The Motels - Only the Lonely Catastrophe Bizarre - Oh Lonesome Me Sham 69 - What About the Lonely?

DJ speaks over Vitamin String Quartet - Cactus

Wipers - The Lonely One Mižerija - Izolacija Lil Louis - Club Lonely Donald Adkins - Lonely Side Walks The Accüsed - Lonely Place Woody Guthrie - Lonesome Day

DJ speaks over Vassar Clements - Lonesome Fiddle Blues

The Louvin Brothers - Weary Lonesome Blues The O'Jays - Lonely Drifter The Lemon Pipers - Lonely Atmosphere Reality - Lonely Shadow Bad Livers - High, Lonesome, Dead and Gone

DJ speaks over Anthony Pasquarosa - On Solitude

Pete Ham - A Lonely Day Wanda Jackson - I'm the Queen of My Lonely Little World Bertha "Chippie" Hill - Lonesome All Alone And Blue Zyfilis - Isolera Tommy Fogerty and the Blue Velvets - Have You Ever Been Lonely Johnny Cash - Port of Lonely Hearts

DJ speaks over The Ventures - The Lonely Sea

Joy Division - Isolation