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daisyswift3 · 2 months

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A Summary of the 🎃 Messages--The Overarching Story

So I just realized sth abt the 🎃 messages while listening to ttpd—they’re in chronological order!! I am going to try to give a summary of these messages and explain why I believe this. This album has made 99% of her songs, mvs, metaphors, and symbols make perfect sense. There were always some things like getaway car, cruel summer, and the palm trees in rep era that I could never quite figure out but now it's all crystal clear. It's like ttpd is the last piece of the puzzle needed to make everything fall right into place and to see the whole messy complicated story. One thing I want you to take note of as you read this summary is how incredibly consistent Taylor is w her use of metaphors and symbols. This makes solving the puzzle that is her music more like solving a cypher that you can know you solved correctly bc all the symbols will fit together perfectly just like a secret code. Once you understand what one symbol represents you now know what it means every time you see it. Every word or phrase she uses is intentional and there's not a single easter egg that's out of place. You'll notice in ttpd there are several words and phrases that are repeated bc she wants us to know that certain songs are related. 🎃 anon said there would be many connections and foretellings in the messages that we could find if we held them to the light in the coming unfoldings, and boy they were not wrong. So w/out further ado let's get into it (just a warning though this will be pretty lengthy so grab your favorite drink, some snacks, and get comfy).

1st message: The first one starts right before rep era when her rep started going down and she started feuding w her record label. These are the obstacles she didn’t see coming that made her slam on the (getaway bike) brakes (which were cut so she had to use her foot to slow down) and not come out. The "heel damaged" could be a reference to Achilles' heel since this was a weak spot she didn't see or it could be a reference to Jesus' heel being bruised in the 1st ever biblical prophecy (see this post for more on that). This was her first big pivot and change of plans. Many ppl have theorized that TS6 was originally going to be a different album--perhaps lover/daylight--but kimye and BMR got in the way of that. This would explain why she wears an outfit w palm trees on it while cutting the wings off her TS6 jet. She spray paints "reputation" on it which seems to indicate it was a haphazard last minute change of plans (x). Plus the endgame mv has palm trees and shows Miami, Florida (which I think is related to Florida!!! but I'll have to get to that another time) connecting it to "Island breeze and lights down low, no one has to know...In the middle of the night in my dreams I know I'm gonna be with you so I take my time." Miami is the paradise where her endgame happens. This all seems to indicate she was ready for "daylight" or "paradise" during rep era but had to pivot.

The Prophecy: “Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, Oh but it’s gone again"

2nd message: This is abt the lover rollout that started in spring of 2019 -> "The time draws near, springtime sunshine causing small drips and fractures." The ice castle likely represents the lover house (her music empire, past eras, and closet) since she burns it down w a match just like she does in the eras tour visuals and midnights -> "You strike a match and blow the smoke toward the structure that shelters and protects you. Suddenly, you hear a crack, a crunch, a whoosh. There is a sudden give beneath you, and you tumble through the broken, melting hole in your palace." The ivy reference (spring breaks loose, the time is near) just solidifies my theory that ivy is a song abt an eventual kaylor reunion that will happen before she burns all the files and deserts all her past lives (eras).

Lover era was her second big pivot. I believe she knew there was a very good chance Scott B would sell her masters all the way back in rep era hence why she says "I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone, devils roll the dice" (see this post for more on that). "However, in this suddenness you find yourself still somehow underprepared, kicking yourself for the time you squandered by wallowing in the seeming endlessness of your predicament" -> Her being unprepared to come out along w the mastersheist is what caused her to miss her 2nd opportunity to come out. She was so caught off guard that it made her indecisive. And so she played it safe and stayed in the closet -> "Our coming of age has come and gone, suddenly this summer it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near." Remember how I said Taylor is very consistent w her use of metaphors? Well I made a post a while back explaining how folkmore represents the seasons bc summer = daylight and winter = closeting and folkmore was Taylor trying to come to terms w her 2nd failed coming out hence the grey and beige ("I'm just a paperweight in shades of greige"); so that means the ice castle = winter = closeting and springtime sunshine = almost daylight = almost being out of the closet (and spring was also the time when the lover rollout started so it has a more literal 2nd meaning to it as well).

The Albatross: "So I crossed my thoughtless heart spread my wings like a parachute, I'm the albatross, I swept in at the rescue." [I think there's a good chance this song is abt Scoots so it makes sense the parachute metaphor, which relates to her masters and failed coming out, would be used in this song]

The Bolter: "By all accounts, she almost drowned when she was 6 in frigid water...It feels like the time she fell through the ice then came out alive." ['Long story short I survived']

3rd message: This is abt the mastersheist (diamond heist) during the summer of 2019. It parallels the I Can See You mv exactly (see this post). In hindsight it now makes perfect sense why 1989 tv didn't have any mvs--bc the Fortnight mv is a direct continuation of the ICSY mv! Before the Fortnight mv, the ICSY mv was the most recent one. She didn't want anything between those 2 mvs so that it was obvious they were directly related. Her losing her masters and her 2nd opportunity at daylight is what drove her to insanity and caused her to end up in the asylum -> "I find the artifacts, cried over a hat...I trace the evidence" // "And so I enter into evidence my tarnished coat of arms, etc" | "Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away?"

"Mere feet away from the light of freedom...Your getaway bike begins to leave without you, sparks flying as the tires try and fail to slow down for you. You have frozen in this moment of indecision" // "It was the great escape, the prison break, the light of freedom on my face...he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', 'Go, go, go!'" -> There are 2 getaway car mentions in this message which emphasizes its importance. This is likely for a few reasons: 1) To explain what the song getaway car was actually abt--her feud w BMR, not the beards 2) To show that message 1 and 3 are related; the getaway bike is mentioned in both since both are abt her masters 3) To show that the lover era pivot was actually just history repeating itself; this is what Cassandra and the Prophecy are abt.

Cassandra (notice the piano melody from mad woman): “So they set my life in flames, I regret to say do you believe me now? ['If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too']…They knew, they knew, they knew the whole time that I was onto somethin', [She knew there was a good chance her masters would be sold as shown in cruel summer] The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line" ['Now he sits on his thrown in his palace of bones praying to his greed']

Fortnight: "I was supposed to be sent away But they forgot to come and get me I was a functioning alcoholic 'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic [Her fans didn't notice the shift from rainbows and pastels to black mourning clothes during the lover era] All of this to say I hope you're okay But you're the reason [The you in the song is Taylor; she's the reason she decided to stay in the closet] And no one here's to blame But what about your quiet treason?" [Taylor's indecisiveness is what led her to not come out the 2nd time]

loml (This is from Karlie's pov): "Mr. Steal Your Girl, then make her cry...You shit-talked me under the table talking rings [Paper Rings] and talking cradles, [Lover mv] I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all, [They were so close to daylight]...It was legendary, It was momentary ['I touch you (daylight/sunshine) for only a fortnight']...Our field of dreams engulfed in fire" ['So they set my life in flames']

Florida!!!: "Little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in, ['I touch you (daylight/sunshine) for only a fortnight'; 'And so a touch that was my birthright became foreign'] So you work your life away just to pay for a timeshare down in Destin" [Taylor did all this masterminding and planning just to end up still stuck in the closet and bearding and only being able to see her lover in stolen private moments]

Fresh Out the Slammer: "Another [cruel] summer, taking cover, rolling thunder, he don't understand me"

The Bolter: "But it always ends up with a town car speeding" [getaway car]

Peter: "Forgive me Peter, my lost fearless leader, in closets like cedar preserved from when we were just kids, Is it something I did?" [Peter is herself; 'I'd be a fearless leader' and the fearless album; 'closets' is obvious]

How Did It End?: "We were blind to unforeseen circumstances, We learned the right steps to different dances, and fell victim to interlopers' glances, Lost the game of chance, what are the chances?...It's happening again" [This is the 2nd time she's lost the opportunity to come out]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart: "I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague" [They're in love w each other but can't be together in public; 'Break my soul in 2 looking for you but you're right here']

Down Bad: "For a moment [a fortnight] I knew cosmic love, now I'm down bad crying at the gym...'Fuck it if I can't have him I might just die it would make no difference'" ['You (Taylor) told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I (Karlie) ever leave']

5th message: Out of all the messages this is the one I'm the most uncertain abt. But I think it is possibly about JA leaving before his contract was up. "You are in a kitchen. Not your kitchen, of course. Your kitchen is soft and cozy and sacred. THIS kitchen is hard and cold and purely functional" -> This is not the sacred kitchen from Cornelia Street that she shares w her lover, this is a PR stunting kitchen that's a false imitation of the real domestic bliss she has. A few yrs ago kaylors were talking abt how Karlie has a kitchen that she only uses for PR/social media purposes so pumpkin anon could've been trying to remind us of that. These 3 messages from flag 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 anon make me think the breakup happened sooner than planned.

The July 29 message wasn’t meant to be posted until Oct 8 since it was hinting at the Toe breakup happening 5 months later in mid March, 2023.

The Nov 23 message mentions a “shift of footing” which we all agreed meant Toe 🦶 was over. The Dec 5 message w “the need to flex is sometimes necessary” directly following the Toe breakup message is what really makes me think it wasn’t planned. They had to pivot/flex but “other milestones are resolute” meaning the endgame is still the same—K and T will still reunite and both will be out of the closet at a certain time. Plus there’s the “…” at the end of the Nov 23 message which also indicates the Dec 5 one is a direct continuation of that message.

To add more credibility to this theory, RFI and SIG also have ellipses. RFI always seemed like it was supposed to be a direct continuation of SIG bc SIG sets up the “chess game” w her and her lover doing magic and pulling the wool over everyone's eyes, and RFI is when this chess game officially begins, "baby let the games begin."

Some other kaylors said they thought “the need to flex” meant that she wanted to give anti hero more time on the charts so she was flexing or showing off. But I think it makes more sense for it to be related to London Boy himself and not having him as a beard since that’s the whole purpose of having the 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 flag. I could be wrong though.

So Long, London: “Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away…Holding tight to your quiet resentment…Every breath feels like rarest air when you’re not sure if he wants to be there” [This may mean that JA kept trying to break free from the contract and Taylor kept trying to convince him to stay but it didn’t work]. "My spine split from carrying us up the hill, Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill" ['They are bowing out, leaving you with double the workload, now half burnt and smoking. Their duties weren’t finished, and yet there is nothing you can do to make them stay. Shaken by this loss, chaos descends upon the team. Most roll up their sleeves to work harder']. "And my friends said it isn't right to be scared, every day of a love affair" [There were several blind items talking abt how JA was hooking up w men in a very unsubtle way; this could be what the 'cheating husband' mentions in ttpd are abt]. “Two graves, one gun” [Makes me think of a smoking gun which could be what the 'smell of smoke' in the message was alluding to. Maybe JA threatened to reveal her secrets if she didn't let him go and he had the smoking gun evidence to do so which was the recipe card. 'This time is different. Because you know this person actually has the means to share the secret menu, and that they have enough proof to make the waiting guests believe them.' -> I mean if anyone could convince the general public it would be the man who was supposed to be her boyfriend for 6 yrs]. “And you say I abandoned the ship but I was going down w it, my white knuckle dying grip” ['But you have never been one to lay your armor down. When you fail, you fail gloriously. When you go, you go kicking and screaming']. "I didn't opt in to be your odd man out" [She didn't want to be his beard just like he didn't want to be hers; and odd man out is a game that's played w 3 ppl where the odd man is the loser who's eliminated bc he didn't have a match]. "I founded the club she's heard great things about" [The Tortured Man Club -> The Tortured Poets Department that she's chairman of]

7th message: This message is all abt the domestic bliss she has away from the public eye. She has worked so hard to make sure her secrets are safe by building a tall impenetrable fence. However, she chooses to intentionally blow a dandelion full of secrets--perhaps ttpd is the dandelion w all the songs being the florets or secrets. There is one floret in particular that she’s worried abt—my guess is it’s Robin since it’s so damning if you know what to look for. Plus the song Robin parallels this message perfectly and evokes the same imagery. And to add even more credibility to this theory, the lyric vid for Robin has dandelion florets in the background. See these posts: (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x). "You are walking through your yard. It's one of your favorite places, all sprawling garden rows" -> Betty's garden; "your wife waters flowers," etc. "There are daisies - so many daisies - in every shade of your rainbow"--I don't think I even need to explain this. "Your lover and your fresh baked buns are safe. (The buns, of course, are in the oven turning golden as you speak. It's an old family recipe, jotted lovingly on a recipe card.)" -> The recipe card is perhaps a picture or some other sort of smoking gun evidence of Taylor's family and it connects the 5th and 7th messages together. And the meaning of "buns in the oven" is pretty obvious. "Golden" refers to Karlie.

Robin: "Higher and higher, wilder and lighter" [This may be a double entendre--not only is she encouraging this child to bounce higher on his trampoline or swing higher, she is also encouraging the dandelion floret (the song Robin) to fly higher and go out into the world after she blows on it]

The Albatross: "Wild winds are death to the candle...One bad seed kills the garden" [This may be connected to the dandelion metaphor and I believe there are many layers to these lyrics; wild winds can carry the dandelion seeds into other ppl's yards; if Taylor's secret gets out this can destroy the domestic bliss she has i.e. kill her metaphorical garden or candle; 'love's a fragile little flame it can burn out']

I Hate It Here: "I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind people need a key to get to, the only one is mine" [There is only one way to get into this garden since a tall impenetrable fence surrounds it; there are other layers in these lyrics as well like the escapism aspect of it]

But Daddy I Love Him: "I'm having his baby, no I'm not but you should see your faces" [Bc it's Karlie that had the babies]

8th message: This entire message parallels the Bolter. I believe this is abt Taylor finally choosing her lover over her reputation and choosing to intentionally destroy it in order to meet her lover down at the bottom like 🌋 anon mentioned. This may be the purpose of the whole Ratty debacle—to tarnish her image (by jumping into shark infested waters) so that when kaylor are together in public again her fans won’t be able to hate on KK w/out being hypocrites bc Taylor has already done all the things she knows they’ll accuse KK of, like being connected to someone who’s quite problematic. I believe this takes place from May 2023-now since this is when MH and her started “dating.” The use of all lowercase in the 🌋 messages may be a reference to the reputation album title to indicate that this is going to be a repeat of rep era but this time the damage to her rep will be intentional. I find it very interesting that the Feb 20th 🌋 message is the only one that has a word capitalized and the word that's capitalized is "Gold." This is in contrast to "fools gold" which is not capitalized or colored.

The self-loathing is palpable in Taylor's music (x) and it is displayed heavily in this message as well. I think it's possible the "enemy" is actually just Taylor herself or her public persona to be more exact. She is her own worst enemy; the Anti Hero mv illustrates this. She's the one that spreads the dandelions in message 7 which is what the enemy does in this message; she's the bear, and in the Bolter she (real Taylor) tames the bear (Taylor the brand). I believe TSMWEL could possibly be abt herself as well. I mean TSMWEL literally has "TS" in the track title. The clean version of the Bolter has the line "Then she'll call him a bore" which parallels TSMWEL, "You said normal girls were boring." It's as if real Taylor is doing an UNO reverse on Taylor the brand by treating her public persona the same way she treated real Taylor for years. This is very reminiscent of the Archer, "I've been the archer I've been the prey." I think TSMWEL, while it is abt herself, is simultaneously abt Scott B. And the reason for this relates back to what I said abt the 2nd and 3rd 🎃 messages--she blames both Scott AND herself for her failed coming out. The mastersheist threw her for a loop, yes, but she could've still come out anyway were it not for her indecisiveness. And I haven't have time to fully analyze MBOBHFT yet but I think it's similar where it can either be read from Karlie's perspective to Taylor after the 2019 failed coming out or from Taylor's perspective to Scott B/the industry.

The Bolter: "But as she was leaving, it felt like breathing, ['When I was drowning that's when I could finally breathe'] All her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes...He [the 'enemy'] was a cad, wanted her bad just like any good trophy hunter and she liked the way it tastes taming a bear, making him care watching him jump then pulling him under" [This connects to the 10th message: 'You limp over uneven ground, smiling at the pain of the shark bite with each excruciating step - replaying the satisfying splash as you finally chose her over the world. As you grabbed the enemy and dove into the infested waters']

loml: "The coward claimed he was a lion" ['You’re a selfish asshole. So much of your fear is your own. You wince at your cowardice like it is a gaping wound. You so often find yourself unable to meet your own eyes. You scramble into shadows like a black cat. Scared, even, of being scared...You are a coward, but you are not a fool']

I Hate It Here: "I was a debutant in another life but now I seem to be scared to go outside" [In another life she already came out but in this one she's too scared to even leave her house let alone come out]

The Tortured Poets Department (This is from Karlie's pov): "You're in self-sabotage mode throwing spikes down on the road"

9th message: This message is abt her finishing her 11th album, the last chapter of her 11 part story, and then sending it out into the world like a message in a bottle (the Manuscript). So I'm assuming this would take place on April 19, 2024, the release date of ttpd. "You are sitting on a beach, cold and windswept. The sea is dark and angry before you." -> This may be the same beach and sea from the folkmore era. "The sun sets in muted colors." -> Describing the sunset colors as muted is quite interesting since sunsets typically have very vivid colors; this makes me think it's related to the eras tour visuals during the transition from august to illicit affairs (which I explained the meaning of in this post), and the folkmore color palette was mainly muted colors. "You finish scrawling on the parchment. Your pen dries up as you reach the end of a story in 11 parts." // "Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen," "my veins of pitch black ink." She is sick of having to dilute her truth through metaphors and allegories which is why she is a tortured poet -> "Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die." Plus there's the "parchment" which she mentioned many times during her eras tour speeches which relates it to the folkmore era (x)(x)(x). "And now it is just a matter of time. The dripping of candle wax. The ticking of a clock." -> (x).

I recommend reading this post which explains how the Manuscript, ATW short film, message in a bottle, the story of us, and 4th, 9th, and 10th 🎃 messages are related. Many ppl pointed out that the Manuscript lyric vid looks like a movie script, and she's been referencing films and books a lot recently which makes me think there's a good chance she's going to release a film and book abt her coming out story. The 9th message and the lyrics in the Manuscript make it clear that Taylor's discography as a whole IS the manuscript i.e. it's the author's (Taylor's) draft of her story that is getting ready to be published. In academia, a manuscript is a draft of your research that you send in to be peer reviewed and if it's accepted it then becomes a published academic article.

The Manuscript: "And the years passed like scenes of a show, the professor said to write what you know, [She's equating her life to a story w the different eras being different scenes or chapters] The only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores, [message in a bottle; 'It may wash up on a sunny beach in Florida, or a rocky shore in the northwest'] Now and then I reread the manuscript but the story isn't mine anymore" ['Once you blow a dandelion, you never get it back. It isn’t yours anymore']

The Bolter: "But she's got the best stories"

10th message: This is a direct continuation of the 8th message and takes place right before she comes out of the closet (the wooden door in the woods). So this would take place after her rep has already been destroyed which I don’t think we’ve gotten to yet. My guess is that things will start ramping up in the next few months. She may start being papped w all her previous beards looking happy w them or sth similar which is all she’d need to do to show that the relationships were all fake and she’s been lying this whole time. This may be the “chaos” that 🫚 anon was referring to (see this post). This lines up with the blood moon glitch vinyl, representing chaos and disruption, being the 2nd quarter of the yr according to the midnights clock (4-6 or April-June, 2024). Plus many ppl think BDILH is abt MH--and Taylor meant for this to happen bc this album is full of red herrings--and in that song she says "He (MH) was chaos" so this might be a hint that the bearding shenanigans are gonna ramp up. Of course things are already plenty chaotic now w everyone thinking ttpd is abt 3 different men, one of which is pretty problematic, so perhaps this is all ginger was referring to. Taylor calling herself "the Bolter" has 2 meanings: 1) She is a coward who often runs away from danger 2) The 2nd more positive interpretation is that she knows "when it's time to go." I think it's very telling that ITTG is the last track on the deluxe edition of evermore and comes right after RWYLM, a song abt being stuck in the closet after the 2019 failed coming out. She's saying that she's not going to stay there forever(more).

The Bolter: "But none of it is changing that the chariot is waiting, ['The story of 2 princesses. No place for a prince'; the Cinderella metaphor (x)] Hearts are hers for the breaking, There's escape in escaping...Ended with the slam of a [closet] door but she's got the best stories, You can be sure that as she was leaving it felt like freedom" [The 6/21/2020 ♠️ riddle spells out 'They Are Free']

11th message: This message takes place after midnight at 3am on Nov 1 after she’s gone through the wooden door. In this post I explain how 3am connects to the witching hr or devil's hr. The fact that this takes place right after Halloween is quite significant since it is a day dedicated to remembering the dead, and death and ghosts are a big theme in ttpd. This symbolizes how after Taylor kills her old self (by dragging her into shark infested waters), she will resurrect as a new version of herself and leave the past behind her. And in doing these things, she will finally be able to go back to her figurative home, her cabin, that she was exiled from. -> "I think I've seen this film before so I'm leaving out the side door," "And I was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step...I had a feeling so peculiar this pain wouldn't be for evermore." "The flame🕯️ finally🕯️flickers🌬️OUT" -> The match that started the "goddamn blaze in the dark" is no longer needed now that the lover house (her closet) has burned down, so the flame flickers out. This metaphor shows up in Peter as well, "But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light," where the light dying represents the woman losing hope that a coming out will happen. Notice in this message from present anon that "Goodbye" has a capital letter G which I believe links it to "Gold" in the volcano message that was mentioned earlier. This may indicate that Karlie is the woman/neighbor holding the light and waiting for Taylor's return home. The Dec 26th 🌋 message is likely from Karlie's pov in this case.

Fresh Out the Slammer: "Now pretty baby I'm runnin back home to you, Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to...But it's gonna be alright I did my time...Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge, [the burning of the lover house] As I said in my letters [the anon messages this corner of the internet has been receiving? Could also just represent her songs] now that I know better I will never lose my baby again...Swirled you into all of my poems ['My mind turns your life into folklore (literally and figuratively)']...To the house where you still wait up and that porch light [jack-o-lantern] gleams" [see this post abt the porch]

The Alchemy (This is from Karlie's pov): "What if I told you I'm back?...I haven't come around in so long, but I'm coming back so strong, ['But I come back stronger than a 90's trend'] Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me"

imgonnagetyouback: "Push the reset button we're becoming something new...Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you, Bygones will be bygone eras fading into gray, We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game...I'm gonna get you back"

#so i put this in a word doc and it's abt 10 pgs long and that's not including all the posts i linked #so thank you if you actually read this far!!#here's a cookie 🍪#this literally took me 5 days to type out #there's more stuff i could've included but this is already a very very long post so i might turn this into a series or sth and #break down each message and song in more detail #i left out the 4th 6th 12th and 13th messages since those were more like side notes but i plan to revisit those #also i would really appreciate it if non kaylors would stop calling us crazy and delusional bc...clearly we're not #there's a ridiculous amount of evidence that supports this theory (as this post proves) and it's also the only interpretation of her music #that actually makes the puzzle pieces fit PERFECTLY together and makes every single line of every song make sense #meet me at midnight #closeting #bearding #ttpd #pumpkin #summary #kaylor #gaylor #gaylor swift #volcano anon #ginger anon #the manuscript #the story of us #mastersheist #daylight #sunshine #endgame

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xanqels · 11 months

Text

For I Have Sinned.

DarkCorruptedPriest!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

Summary: Father Miller sets eyes on you, and decides then and there that you are to be ruined by him.

Parings: joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! No outbreak au! reader is a virgin and very naive, loss of innocence, corruption kink (he’s into taking her vcard), blackmail, dubcon, virginity loss, fingering, slight humiliation(?), bit of mocking, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweet girl etc), dirty talk, using the lords name in vain, unprotected piv (wrap before you tap), power imbalance, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is mid to late 20s, Joel is late 50s), Joel is an asshole in this, mentions of god/the bible/sinning. Conclusion: Joel should not be a priest. if there’s any i’ve misses please let me know.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I would like to thank @chloeangelic for inspiring me to write this and also giving me some encouragement, and I’d also like to thank @toxicanonymity for inspiring me to write dark!joel and creating the joelkemon universe. Also I do apologise if the timing of the story is a bit everywhere, this is my first fanfic!! any and all criticism is welcome with open arms.

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He still remembers the first day he met you.

You and your family had brought him a pie, a cherry one. They wanted to welcome him, congratulate him for becoming the new priest in their humble town. A sweet gesture from such a perfectly sweet girl and her devout family.

He remembered your face, he could draw it from memory if he wanted to - if he could draw, that was. The perfect mix of beauty, grace and innocence stood before him that very day and he was hooked. Hooked on your gaze, your smile, your scent, but most of all, your innocence and blind naivety to the world.

He knew then and there, that you were his to ruin.

Every Sunday from then on, his eyes were stuck on you, what you were wearing, the way your cheeks flushed when your eyes met his. Everything about you was mere perfection. A sight of innocence, of naivety that he couldn’t wait to take hold of and ruin for every other man.

He wanted his name to be the last thing on your lips at night, and the first thing to be spoken in the morning. He wanted to curse your mind with images of him, to make you worship him instead of God. And so, in his mind he curated the perfect plan to get you alone.

“Go forth, knowing that you are cherished,” His voice, a deep texan accent, talking to the congregation, “chosen and empowered by the Creator of the Universe.” But why did it feel as though he was talking to purely you? His words, so enchanting you lingered on every line he spoke. His sermons were fresh, new and slightly modern. A stark contrast from Father Rafferty’s sermons.

“May his grace be upon you. Now and forevermore.” He looks up, eyes scanning the room before landing on yours. Dark brown iris’ peering into your soul, as you feel your cheeks flush. He likes the way your cheeks blush when you look at him. You want him. You need him, he tells himself. “Amen.” He states as you look away, the rest of the congregation, including yourself muttering a simple ‘Amen.’

As you and your family stand up in preparation to leave, Father Miller approaches you, a wide smile on his lips with his Bible and rosary beads in hand. “Mr and Mrs Spencer.” He says, shaking your fathers hand. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“Well, Father, we could never miss one of your services.” Your mother speaks as you look idly at the floor, eyes tracing over the darkened, dented wood from where people have walked over time. You tune out the conversation, feeling ashamed for dropping Father Millers eyes earlier, and feeling so stupid for blushing.

“Won’t you, honey?” Your fathers voice snaps you out from your thoughts, eyes wide as you look between the three of them. “Pardon?” You ask, heart thumping in your chest.

“Father Miller wants you to help him decorate the church for Easter Sunday. There’ll be plenty of other people there. I think it’d be an excellent idea.” Your father says, as your eyes dart to Father Millers. He smiles, a sweet smile. A comforting, pleasant smile which puts you at ease. Those dark chocolate brown eyes, soft and kind.

You nod, and he clasped his hands together in glee. “Well, perfect. It’ll take a little while, but there’ll be plenty of breaks and we’ll provide food. Hopefully you don’t mind me keeping your daughter occupied for the entire day.” Father Miller says, and your parents don’t seem to mind. Just as long as you’re being the perfect catholic girl you’ve always been. Just as long as you’re kept out of trouble, and as long as you help Father Miller with whatever he needs.

A devout catholic you were. Born and baptised, risen in a strong catholic household and desperate to please the priest. You’d do anything he’d say or ask, as long as it wasn’t a sin, and Joel knew that. He knew how desperate you were to please someone so close to God, his messenger, how you itched to be as pure and holy as one could be. He knew he’d got you wrapped around his little finger

And so, the plan was set in motion. And at 11am on the following Thursday, you were there at the church doors, pushing the solid oak open as you walk into the dim room, the only form of light being the candles Father Miller had lit and the sun shining through the stained-glass windows.

Expecting to be met with various murmurs and fellow church-goers, you find the place empty. Completely deserted, almost, until your eyes lay on him. Tall, stoic and his gaze piercing at you, taking you in. Your small frame, your long white dress, the way your hair lay against your shoulders. The image of innocence.

He smiles, that same sweet smile that he gave you the previous Sunday. “You made it.” He says, walking towards you with his arms out, almost as though he was going to envelope you in a hug.

But he didn’t. He clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms together. “Father Miller.” You exhale softly, eyes scoping the otherwise empty church. “I thought we were all meeting here at eleven. Where is everyone?” You ask, twirling a strand of long hair around your index finger.

He shrugs. “‘m afraid I don’t know. I did invite them.” He says, lying through his teeth. You wouldn’t know that, of course. Too naive to think any differently, to even have a thought that Father Miller may just lie to you. Truth is, he didn’t invite anyone else. Not a single soul. It was only you and him.

You frown, clearly unhappy with the way no one else seemed to turn up but you. The way they so blatantly chose to ignore Father Miller’s need for help. “But you asked for help, surely they should’ve come.”

“Perhaps they got busy.” He lies, looking around the church, eyes glaring at the empty walls. “Anyways, this place won’t decorate itself.” He grins, turning and walking towards the back, hand gesturing for you to follow.

And you do, obediently. Into the back room of the church, full of foldable tables and chairs, boxes of decorations and broken pews. It’s dark, and smells of dust and mildew. The smell violates your nose as you try to adjust to the light, and then Joel flicks a switch, and a singular, dim lightbulb sparks to life.

You grimace at the surroundings. Untidy, dusty and slightly damp. There’s a dark oak table in the corner of the room, covered in cardboard boxes that are filled to the brim. Obviously this room hardly gets properly taken care of, but in a small town like yours, you aren’t surprised. Most of the things that enter this room hardly come back out, unless needed. But, you aren’t here to judge, you’re here to help. Help this poor, middle-aged priest who blessed the community with his sermons and his striking good looks… wait what?

You sigh as you approach the table full of boxes, slender fingers prising open the lids and rooting through the boxes of old memories and décor.

Behind you, Joel was hungrily glaring at your figure. The way you got to work without any questions. So submissive, so silent. Oh, how he can’t wait to hear you moan his name. To cum all over his cock, to..

“Father Miller?” His thoughts are cut off by your melodic voice drifting through the air. “What exactly are we looking for?”

He chuckles, slowly approaching the table. “Sweetheart, it’s not Sunday, and we’re not in a sermon. Please, call me Joel. Let’s drop the formalities for now.” He smiles, looking down at you, and then, his hand is on your lower back. Hardly an inch above your ass. “Just some decorations. Some banners, the candles, my white robe should be in here somewhere.”

You gasp, the feeling foreign and leaving a strange feeling in your loins. You look up from the boxes of discarded mess, eyes meeting his. “Father Miller..” You start, but he glares at you, eyebrows raised. You squint your eyes shut and scrunch your face up, mentally cursing at yourself for not using the name he’d asked you to use. “I mean, Joel..” You clear your throat. “Why would your robe be in here? Surely it should be at your house, or somewhere safe atleast?” Your eyes slowly open, meeting his again.

He looks at his hand, gliding it up and down your back slowly, as though he was comforting you. “Well, William – Sorry, Father Rafferty left it in here for me. Just haven’t had chance to come rootin’ through the boxes.” He hums, a low tune, a soft one. “So, Sweetheart, tell me.. have you ever sinned?”

The abrupt question makes you freeze up, frown at the thought and straighten up slightly, eyebrows furrowed. “What sort of a question is that?” You ask. “Of course not. Well… I don’t think I have.” You say, wracking your brain for an answer. It’s normal for him to ask these sorts of questions, right? He’s just looking out for you. To make sure you’re on the right path, that you’re pure and holy. You’ve never even looked at another man in a sinful way, let alone kiss one. Sure, you might think the odd boy is cute, and maybe you’ve looked at Father Miller – Joel in a different way, and that’s made you feel sinful. You have to admit though, his scruffy salt and pepper beard, dark eyes and calloused hands are no match for any of the local boys. Joel was beautiful. Handsome, even. But he was thirty years your junior, and the priest. It’d ruin his career and his relationship with God, yours too. You couldn’t do it to yourself.

“You’ve never kissed a boy?” He asks, curiosity peaking. You knew kissing wasn’t a sin, but it’s not like you needed to worry about it. You shake your head, saying nothing. “Would you like to kiss one?” He asks, his body suddenly moving to engulf yours, his crotch right against your ass as he wraps his arms around your waist. You shudder at the movement, his breath hot against your ear.

“Father, I’m not sure this is right.” The formalities are back, you’re unsure, nervous and confused. Never once has he acted this way towards you, so flirtatious and curious. And yet you find yourself wanting more. A burning forming deep inside of you.

“Joel.” He corrects. “And it’s alright, darling. Won’t do nothing you don’t want me to do.” He grabs your hips and turns you around in his arms so you’re facing him. He places his index finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

You swallow thickly, eyes scanning his features. His scruffy beard is stark in contrast to his combed-back hair. The weathering on is face is showing, proving his age, showing how wise he is. He’s gorgeous, for an older man. You never would’ve assumed he was in his fifties, had he not told you. You bite your lip, weighing out the pros and cons in your mind of potentially giving your first kiss to this man.

“Just tell me what you want, Darlin’.” He speaks, “it’s not a sin. Well, it’s definitely not a sin if you kiss me. We won’t be doing anything wrong.” He urges, watching intently as your tongue pokes out and swipes against your lower lip. You nod, if anyone should know about sin it’s him. If anyone should know what’s right or wrong, it’s him.

He doesn’t waste a second, closing the space between the pair of you, his lips pressing against yours. They’re plump and warm against yours, and you’re not sure what to do. You try to copy his movements, lips moving when his do. It’s hard and confusing at first, but you manage to get the hang of it slowly. It’s innocent at first. Soft, sweet and oh, so innocent. But the more he presses against you, the more your back presses against you solid oak table. The sharp edge digging into your back, the pain making you gasp. Joel takes this opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. A wet, warm foreign feeling in your mouth.

It’s a long kiss, deep and hungry. His tongue prodding and attacking your mouth every so often, and you could swear you feel something warm and tingly in your lower stomach. You’re stood awkwardly, hands by your sides with absolutely no sense of direction, that is until Joel takes your hands and places them around his neck. You allow it, and as you settle in, his hands find their place on your waist, calloused fingers digging through your cotton dress.

You wince as he nips your bottom lip with his teeth, and you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. His eyes dark with a newfound fire in them, and something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Fuck angel, you taste so good.” Joel whispers, his hand coming up and brushing through your hair as he takes your form in. Slightly plumped lips, red and glossy from your shared saliva, eyes wide and still in shock from the moments. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He leans in again, and even though you expect for him to kiss you again, his lips find a new place – on your neck. His beard tickles the sensitive skin, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, which only just peaks out of your modest dress. Your breath catches in your throat, the fire in your stomach growing strangely stronger, more apparent. You sigh out as he plants a wet kiss against your collarbone, his tongue gliding from your collarbone up to your earlobe.

“Such a good girl.” He murmurs in your ear, his fists grabbing your dress and starting to pull it up. You gasp, placing your hand on top of his to stop him, shaking your head.

“No.” You state. “That’s a sin, I can’t go any further, Father. It’s not right.” You tussle in his grip. “I’m waiting until marriage like I should, like God said I should.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” He purrs, slowly shaking your hand off his. “It’s not a sin if you do it with me. It doesn’t count.” He lies, tugging your dress up so it’s just above your waist. He slips his free hand into the waistband of your panties, hissing as his fingers are met with your arousal. “Oh, baby.” He purrs, his finger skilfully prodding your clit. You whine in his arms. “You’re so wet, so desperate.” Wet? That’s what it is? You’re aroused? By this? That strange, unfamiliar feeling in your gut was caused by him?

His fingers swipe your clit, moving at different angles until your face twisted in pleasure and your mouth drops open. A strangled moan comes from the back of your throat, a noise you didn’t even know you could make. A noise you shouldn’t make, but you can’t help it. You can’t stop the chorus of moans falling from your lips, and to Joel it sounds just like a hymn sung in church. So beautiful and melodic to his ears. He loves it.

His index finger trails down, making you frown at the loss of pleasure, prodding your tight hole. You gasp, immediately itching to get out of his grip again. His grip only tightens, and he pulls his hand out of your panties. He looks at the wetness on his hand in the dim light, admiring the shine and your embarrassed face. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Sweetheart.” He winks before popping his fingers in his mouth and sucking your juices clean off them. You at him in both shock and awe as he reaches behind you and clears the table off, boxes falling on the floor with decorations scattering around the room.

He lifts you up, your dress still hiked around your waist as he places you on the table, stepping between your thighs. “You gon’ show me all of you, pretty girl?” He asks, caressing your face with the same hand he just sucked clean. You felt sick to your stomach, but at the same time, you yearned for more.

“Forgive me, Father..” You mutter quietly to the man himself upstairs, as you nod your head and lift your arms up. Joel takes complete advantage of this, removing your dress and discarding it on the dirty floor. You know it’ll be dirty and possibly ruined when you retrieve it after, but you’re sure you’ll make something up to appease your parents.

He whistles lowly at the sight of you in your underwear, and since he asked if you would show him all of you, he doesn’t ask if he can unclasp your bra, he just does it, hardly giving you time to react. The cool air immediately makes your nipples harden, stiff peaks standing to attention, desperate to be touched. To be manhandled and played with. He discards your bra ontop of your dress, his hands coming back and cupping your boobs.

You bite your lip at the new sensation as he fondles them “Do you trust me?” He asks, what a stupid question – of course you do. You nod, and he removes his hands from your breasts, his fingers sliding into the waistband of your panties. You lift yourself off the table slightly, after a glare of expectance from Joel, and he pries your soaking wet panties from your body, the soft pink colour now darker where wet.

“Oh, Darlin’.” He groans as he fingers the damp patch, and your cheeks grow hot again. “I’ve hardly even touched you. Hardly even shown you what a good time I can give ya.” He grins, a devilish grin, as he stuffs your soiled panties into his back pocket.

You shiver in anticipation, any worries of sinning or ruining yourself for marriage being long gone. After all, Father Joel Miller said it was okay, and that it wasn’t a sin asking as you did it with him, and he wouldn’t lie to you, right?

He kneels down in between your legs, groaning as his knees click, a sign of his old age. It should snap you out of this, remind you this isn’t who you are, but it does the opposite. Makes you yearn for him, crave him. He grabs your thighs and thrusts you closer to him so your ass is just barely on the table. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he uses his free hand to gently spread your lips, your pussy shining with arousal in the dim light. Glistening, calling for him, he exhales shakily. “Gotta stay still for me, Baby, okay?”

He dives forward, your soaking cunt spread open for him still, and he places a gentle, chaste kiss on your clit. A simple movement that has you jolting, and him chuckling at your reaction. A low, monotone tune.

“God girl, you’re a nasty little thing, huh?” He doesn’t even give you time to answer before he licks a straight line from your tight hole up to your clit. Your moans have his cock rock hard, painfully stretching against his pants. If he doesn’t get to fuck you, he’ll definitely masturbate to the thought of your moans, the way your cheeks were red and eyes glossed over.

He repeats it a couple of more times, licking stripes up your pussy, purely doing it to wind you up and tease you further, as if you weren’t already a soaking mess for him. He takes pity on you and your whines, leaning forward and wrapping his plump lips around your clit, ravenously devouring your pussy as though he hadn’t eaten for days.

It’s pleasure unlike anything you’ve felt before. So intoxicating and mind numbing, you could live on this feeling. Your hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you moan, your hips subconsciously rocking and grinding into his mouth. “Joel.” You groan, and he only hums in response, noisily lapping up your leaking juices.

He brings his hand down, the one that was spreading your lips, and gently prods his middle finger against your tight hole. He gently pushes it in, despite your slight squirming and whines, holding it still to allow your pussy to get used to this new feeling, to this intruder. Then, he’s slowly thrusting his finger into you, all the while he’s completely devouring your pussy.

The feeling burns slightly, but is quick to wear off as it soon turns to pleasure, his finger hitting a certain spot that makes you see stars, that makes you unaware of how loud you are, how pitiful you sound. You don’t even realise he’s brought his second finger into the mix until the burn returns and you feel yourself being stretched out further.

You cry out, your hand shooting to his wrist. “Stop.” You command, voice wavering. “Too full.” He pulls his head away, chuckling lowly at the command.

“Too full?” He asks, “How do you expect me to fit my cock in your pretty pussy if you won’t even let me put my second finger in?” He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were my good girl, are you not? Look at how wet you are, how well you’re taking my fingers.” He gently pushes his fingers in further as he speaks. You look down, the sight simply sinful. Your tight pussy engulfing his large calloused fingers, your juices all over his fingers and knuckles.

“Slowly.” You demand, gently releasing his wrist, and thankfully, he does. He pushes his fingers in, and you’re full. Fuller than you were before, and you didn’t even know that was possible. To feel so filled up and yet.. good? It’s slow, the way his fingers thrust in and out of you, inching deeper every time. It’s progress when the burning subsides, and you nod at Joel.

“Better.” You confirm, and he doesn’t need to ask twice.

His fingers slowly pick up the pace, his tongue attacking your clit again, your hips grinding against him, desperate for more friction, and you don’t even realise you’re doing it.

The burning in your lower abdomen grows stronger, more apparent. Like you’re building up to something momentum, something life changing. “Joel.” You moan. “Fuck, oh God.” You curse, not caring for the moment who hears you curse, or use Gods name in vain. You’ll pray later.

He pulls his lips away from you, smirking up at you. “Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, but you’re unsure. “Let go, Sweet girl. Show me how you cum all over my fingers. Show me how bad you can do.”

Your mouth drops open as his fingers hit that special spot, eyes seemingly rolling into the back of your head as it washes over you. The best thing you’ve felt in your life, crashing over you again and again. You see white flashes, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. You don’t even realise that you’ve grabbed Joel’s wrist again to keep him in place, your hips rocking back and forth on his fingers.

You’re sweaty, beads of sweat have fallen down your chest, your thighs, and when you come to, you feel filthy, sinful, wrong. Like you’ve just had a piece of you taken. You look down, mouth dropping open as you gently release him from your ironclad grip. “I’m so sorry.” You blubber.

He pulls his fingers out of you, grinning wide at his accomplishment. “Look at that..” He pops his fingers in his mouth, sucking them dry. “Not so innocent, huh? You naughty girl. I heard you curse Gods name.”

“Please don’t mention that to anyone. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry, that shouldn’t of happened.” You plead, the thought of what the community may do to you scares you. You’ve seen what lengths they go to in order to shun someone. “I’ll do anything, just don’t tell them.”

He smirks. “Well, you could do one of two things. You could get on your knees at home and pray to God that he’ll forgive you, although there’s a very low chance of that happening, you sinful little minx.” He chuckles at your sorrowful face. “Or, you can turn around, bend over and let me fuck the sin out of you. I’m sure he’ll forgive you if every drop of sin has been eradicated from your body. Your choice.” He stands, groaning softly as his knees crack again, that reminder of his age causing your pussy to pulse in arousal.

You sigh, wordlessly standing up on wobbly legs. You turn around, gently laying your sweaty body against the table. Your stomach covered in the wetness you’d left behind, the rest of your body being welcomed by the coolness of the wood. “I want him to forgive me.” You squeak.

A feeling of pride in his chest, he smiles. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, and then the rustle of his pants as he pulls his cock from out of his boxers. He holds his hand out infront of you. “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth, spitting it into the palm of his hand. You wonder what he’s going to use your saliva for. “This isn’t going to hurt more than your fingers, is it?” You can hear him stroking himself with your spit, a wet, sloppy sound. You can’t help but wonder what his cock looks like. Is it big? Is it thick? Is it tanned like his sunglowed skin?

“Different for everyone, Angel. Shouldn’t hurt for long if it does.” He says, his free hand adjusting your form slightly. He stands behind you, getting himself into position. “The fact you just came should make it so much easier, and less painful.” He gently pushes the tip of his cock into your tight hole, hissing.

You cry out, the burning sensation stronger than ever as you feel yourself being stretched out around his thick cock. Tears prick your eyes. It’s unpleasant, you feel like you’re being ripped into two, like his cock is going to break you. “Too big.” You cry out again.

He tuts. “You said that about my fingers.” He rolls his eyes. “Too big.” He mocks in a slightly girlish tone. This isn’t the Miller you know. This is someone entirely different. His whole demeanour has changed in a matter of seconds, from the second you bent over for him, he’s far more dominant. “We got my fingers in, didn’t we? Just breathe.” He reaches his freehand down, rubbing your clit in small circles to get you to ease up.

You do as he says, taking deep breaths in through your nose as he continues to stretch your tight hole out around him. It takes what seems like forever before he finally bottoms out, and you hear him sigh. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust before starting to slowly thrust into you.

The burn takes a while to ease off, but when it does and you finally get to embrace the feeling of being truly full up, you’re in shock. You thought two fingers was full, you were wrong.

“This pussy is so fucking tight.” He grunts, his hips slapping against yours as his pace speeds up. “Should’ve fucked you sooner, Pretty girl.” You moan in response, table creaking as he fucks you against it.

“Deeper.” You blurt out. Your body and mouth no longer felt like it belonged to you, it belonged to your lust. Your desperation to cum all over his cock again.

He obliges. “So fucking needy.” He scoffs, but smirks as your moans turn into callings of his name and strings of curses, the tip of his cock nudging that oh so sweet spot you’ve learnt to appreciate in what feels like seconds.

The sounds of skin slapping, moans from you and grunts from him echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and right into your ears, reminding you how your innocence is gone, how you’re no longer pure. How sinful you’ve become, something you’ve lived your entire life avoiding. Something you were taught to never even think about happening, something you were taught to shun others for. And now look at you, what a hypocrite. Bent over a table, being fucked by a man, who despite being very attractive, is decades older than you.

That same feeling is forming in your stomach as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper than before. He’s chasing after his own orgasm too, he can’t help but crumble when it comes to you. You’re just too perfect, and your pussy is his own personal brand of heroin.

It comes abruptly, without any warning, attacks you and your senses. You’re blinded by stars, head dizzy and body feeling heavy.

He gasps, grunting loudly. “Oh, you dirty girl.” He moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and shallow. Your pussy strangles his cock as you pulsate around it, and it pushes him over the edge.

You can feel him spilling his hot cum inside of you, his cock pulsating in response to your pussy pulsating around him. He collapses on you for a minute, his clothed chest against your naked, sweaty back. You stay like this for a while until you clear your throat and he gets up, his dick now soft as it slips out of you, a mixture of your juices trickling down your legs.

He steps back to admire the view. Your ruined pussy, pumped full of his cum, pulsating around nothing. He hums as he tucks himself back into his pants, tutting at the small wet patch near his zipper. “Messy girl.” He mutters.

You gently push yourself up, grimacing at the feeling of the mixture of your juices trickling down your soft, shaky thighs. You bend over slowly, picking your discarded bra up from the floor and putting it back on. “Can I have my underwear back?”

He shakes his head. “They’re mine now, Angel.” He gives you a cheeky grin. You groan and point down to the mess trickling down your legs, and his response to that is to give you an old rag from one of the boxes.

You clean yourself up the best you can with the resources you’re given, but it’s not enough. He’s pumped you full of his cum and it’s still trickling out. You just decide you’re going to have to pray for the best. You pick up your once pristine white dress, now crumpled and dirty from the floor. You pour, seeing as it was picture perfect only this morning. You sigh, placing it over your head.

“Now, come on. We’ve got a church to decorate.” He winks at you, grabbing a box of decorations and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and feelings.

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Tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

A/N: sorry but i think it’s absolutely ironic that I’m posting this on the day i’m actually going to church (christening).

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haleyvalentineart · 11 months

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Late post! To be honest, I just wanted this to be done tonight. I’m also adding a textless image if you want to zoom in on any details, and will continue below with the concept.

The basic premise of my fan comic (right now) is that Matt as Daredevil somehow causes the death of one or more people, which makes him go into a downward spiral and recklessly throw his life around during Daredevil activities. In this scene, Foggy is exasperated, trying to get Matt to see sense as to how careless he is being.

Next in the works is either a positive Matt and Foggy interaction based on some replies I got (thank you!!) or a page to practice drawing the Daredevil echolocation type panels. If you’ve read the comics you might know what I mean, if not, it’s like a two color contour line that outlines all of the objects in the space the way DD might “see” them. Other than that I’m glad to draw asks/requests.

If you saw the version of this where they were floating… no you didn’t <3

And thanks to MattFoggyFanartArchive for alt texting this! :)

Finally some notes on the art itself, mostly for future me. If you care to read, be warned they are mostly criticisms:

Matt and Foggy designs are not final, mostly based off of Checchetto design (hairstyles). The staging took a huge turn from how I planned it. Overall spent way too much time on this page, but then again that included planning, 2 sketches, lines, color, and lettering. Foggy’s mouth in panel 2 was a struggle. The dramatic lighting might be a little too dramatic, it’s hard to see the characters. And TOO MANY WORDS! Way too wordy. Although I liked this dialogue in the beginning, seeing it in action is not as good. It might work better in a writing piece than in comics. Finally have to stop hand writing my text when there is an “add text” button with a comic font. On a lighter note, introduced movement into the scene with Foggy circling the table and motioning with his hands. Made the page less static. The dramatic lighting does help to show which direction characters are facing. Had a lot of fun with decorating the office and hid a few easter eggs. Expressions are alright.

#daredevil #daredevil fanart #comic book art #matt murdock #foggy nelson #matt and foggy #daredevil angst #I think?

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afrognamedfizzarolli · 2 months

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Helluva Boss observations and easter eggs you may not have noticed!: Pilot

The pilot is both a great place and weird place to start, as it is our introduction to the cast and world, but also no longer considered canon. Many of the events and details we learn/see are later confirmed in the series itself, but there were quite a few changes.

I want to start off with some design changes!

With Millie, she used to have white roots visible, this actually kept up for a few of the early episodes. As we know now it seems imps have two noticeable instances of sexual dimorphism: females have black horns with thin white stripes and naturally black hair, and males have evenly sized black and white stripes on their horns and naturally black hair. We see many trans or otherly gender queer imps that dye their hair with visible roots. I assume Millie's design was changed when that was established to be a gender difference in imps.

Her heart tattoo is also much smaller, and switches sides (an animation error almost certainly) When the pilot first came out I actually thought she had a heart on both shoulders.

Some stuff with Stolas!

We see his hand outlined with a red glow at one point, presumably representing his magic. While in the series his magic is represented by blue. This is most likely due to the change of his character as he was originally planned to be a villain.

Not a design change, but I find it funny that Stolas' name in Blitzø's phone is "Creepy Mouth (aka one night stand bird dick)". Surprisingly all being spelled correctly.

Stolas' Grimore! I actually only noticed this on this last watch. It was a darker blue(purple? red? It changes in different scenes) and instead of the moon design it has a different insignia of his that we still see throughout the series in various places (notably on his bed) it also has no design on the back.

Little details!

I didn't realize before either that the woman who Moxxie is trying to shoot before Eddie gets in the way, is Eddie's mom. I'm sure this is something many others picked up on immediately though.

Speaking of which, the human news anchor shown at the end bares a striking resemblance to a character of Brandons: a news anchor named Flint Dicker.

A poster of "THE AMAZING IMP SIBLINGS" is on the wall of the conference room. Showing Blitzø, Barbie Wire, and another character labeled "Tilla". This was changed in the series to just being Blitzø and Barbie, Tilla's design being slightly altered and then used for their mom.

Hazbin easter eggs! Oh boy is there a lot of them.

In the commercial sequence we see in the room of one of the targets a framed drawing of Sir Pentious

In the background of when Blitzø is interviewing a previous client, there is a billboard for 666 News ft. A photo of Katie Killjoy, I especially love this one as Brandon ended up voicing her!

In Blitzø's office he had a vision board labeled "BOSS GOALS" with 5 drawings, in the center is Blitzø labeled "ME!" Top left we have Katie again, top right is a duck with a top hat and two $'s, this assumably referencing Lucifer, bottom left is Rosie, an arrow pointing to her hat labeled so eloquently "HAT" and lastly in the bottom right there is a more detailed drawing that looks to be Carmilla Carmine labeled "Moxxie drew not as good" this tracking later as in 1.05 "The Harvest Moon Festival" Moxxie talks about Carmine angelic weaponry, showing a great interest in her business.

Next is a dumpster in an alley with various graffiti. Notably, a face that looks to be Nifty, "ALWAYS CHASING RAINBOWS" and "HAPPY HOTEL". There is also a sinister face labeled "DEVIL". Im not sure if this is a specific refrence to anything though.

Lastly, one that I'm sure almost everyone noticed but feel the need to include, is we can see Loona watching Charlie's performance of "Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow"

Funny observations:

When the crew teleports into the church, we see maany people with some pretty detailed designs, I do not know if or what they may be referencing, but I have a strong suspicion it is something, my guess is that they are caricatures of some people who worked on the pilot. One person in specifically is wearing a jacket with a patch reading "WHEN YOU SEE IT" with a 👌

Signs! In the hospital we see a sign saying "WE SAVE LIVES" in faded text it reads between we and save "try to" and after lives another line is visible starting with "but" I cannot make out the rest.

Others show that they are in ward 13, the next room over labeled as 667, implying the room that Eddie was in is 666

A note is taped to the side of the fridge of the break room reading "LOONA DONT EAT MY LUNCH -MOXXIE"

Another thing I only noticed recently is when Blitzø sneaks out at the Goetia palace, he is naked except for his jacket, with the grimore serving as some creative censorship. (+Stella's beta design. I personally love her current design, but this one wasn't bad)

When Blitzø makes the comment about making Moxxie the employee of the month he holds up a small plaque as an example, a larger version of this same plaque, is visible on a wall in the commercial sequence.

While in their hazmat suits(idk if that's what these actually are), you can see the shape of Moxxie's bowtie under it

... and just Blitzø holding some targets panties, cause why not

There are a handful of other details, but I'm going to hold onto those as later on we see call backs to them. Also, I've spent a lot more on this than Id planned already, I have at least 3 hours on this one alone.

Please bare with me, I promise these will get more interesting the further we go in the series!

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skirbozobrainrot · 3 months

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easter eggs

(stupid idea but i had nothing else planned for easter except for elfilis wearing bunny ears which i might draw too)

the entire idea surrounding marx's wedding ring and kids belongs to @chickenhoops i lov

#shadow kirby #marx kirby #marx #doodles #i found a star allies halftone brush and i'm gonna abuse it

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tyrramint · 5 months

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Happy Lockwood & Co. Big Bang!!! :D I had the absolute pleasure of collaborating with @The_Dreamer_Half_Alive (on Ao3 :) on her fic for the @lockwoodandcobigbang2023 event; set post TEG, it’s truly so lovely and heartwarming, and I had so much fun doing a piece for it! We very much hope you enjoy :)

Link to the fic!!!! (the horror of the night melt away) under the warm glow of survival of the day

(Closeups below the cut :D) (because I ended up making it too wide to be easily seen in full lol) (plus ~artistic commentary~)

(SPOILERS FOR FIC CONTENT)

Okay, so I tried to put a bunch of little easter eggs from the fic and just in general in here, so if you’re interested:

Alright, to start off, I was generally very inspired by them getting a record player; I thought it was very sweet, and I loved the idea of them finally getting to relax and hang out in the library (the lack of chairs, I know; I couldn’t figure out how to put them in without blocking people lol) and locklyle dancing, with the record player on in the background, so that’s what I took as the basis of the scene!!

We had discussed that the characters were kind of a combo of both show and book versions, so I tried to add a smattering and hints of both when doing their designs!

The record is, of course, an Ella Fitzgerald record as mentioned in the fic (the record drawn is her Souvenir Album)

Holly is wearing her engagement ring, and wearing shades of pink and cream because that’s what she wears at her wedding (although shifted in hue to better match the color scheme of the piece lol)

Everyone (minus Flo) of course has their white strands of hair (which is *always* one of my favorite details to draw)

Lucy and George bake in the fic, but I think I had just read the Christmas mini story when I was doing my thumbnail for this, so Kipps ended up being the one bringing in baked goods; however, the baking mitts are orange and monogrammed with George's initials because I couldn't let that slip by, could I?

I wasn't quite sure what to put Flo in, because in the books she never takes off her boots or puffer jacket, but I wanted to throw in some sign that she was living at 35 Portland Row and becoming closer to all of them, (and her close relationship with George,) so I let her keep the boots, but traded the puffer jacket in for one of George's plaid shirts :)

The chess game also made it in because of the Christmas short story, lol

Lucy's blue star jacket!! When I read the fic, I was planning from the start to have her wearing the jacket, so of course it made it in :) I wasn't really sure what style it should be, though, so I ended up with kind of an odd mishmash of designs, but I think it turned out working alright!

The sapphire necklace, because, of course

I adore that Lockwood wears his pink socks throughout the entire show (well, most of the time they're the pink ones ;) so I wanted to include them (and then gave Lucy blue ones to match :)

The chipped blue mugs that Lockwood brings to Lucy for her tea after she wakes up from nightmares are on the bookshelf, and I couldn't find a way to directly include the Earl Grey tea they have, but I made the tea bag tags grey in honor of it

The green glow is the ghost lamp outside because if I can find a way to incorporate cool glows in my art, I will (and also on a more narrative-driven note, symbolizing the past danger they've been through and how some of it is definitely still present, but they have each other to heal with and finally be able to have some simple fun with, and are now curled up in the safety and comfort of 35 Portland Row :)

And finally, a big theme of the fic is them healing and building a happy life together, so I just wanted them to all be happy for once, and hence I put in my best efforts to draw them as such :)

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use-your-telescope · 6 months

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Together by this Christmas Tree

Summary: The Avengers have an annual tradition of a Secret Santa Gift Exchange, and Theo’s life becomes a real life Hallmark Movie when she draws Loki’s name and has to get him five days of gifts. Because shopping for a god and a prince, especially one that you have a massive crush on, is easy, right?!

Author's Notes: HELLO AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! This is a one-shot set in the WEMTBB world with our favorite sorcerers, however you do not need to be caught up on (or even have started) WEMTBB in order to enjoy this story! For those of you who are reading WEMTBB, this takes place in the future, when these two are in their “mutual pining idiots” stage; you will absolutely spot some easter eggs, but there are no major spoilers here.

This is for @sarahscribbles Christmas Collection, because I’m strolling in five minutes late with Starbucks for Christmas by posting this the day after Christmas. If you're a regular reader of WEMTBB, I am still planning to update it on Sunday (12/31).

Content: Absolute tooth-rotting fluff, Secret Santa, LOADS of mutual pining, Wanda being a very supportive friend, some pranks along the way, Loki in multiple sweaters, and lots of Loki getting the love, kindness, and attention he deserves.

Word Count: 8,104

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

—

When Steve first made the announcement, at the end of a mission debrief, Theo swore he was joking.

The idea of the Avengers making a point to celebrate Christmas seemed a bit strange - beyond the fact that there were two Norse Gods on the team, it seemed presumptuous to assume everyone else was Christian.

Theo’s feelings about the winter holidays were, at best, ambivalent. Sure, she liked the holiday lights, and she was a sucker for a good holiday song. She enjoyed showering her niece, Katie, with presents - after all, what kind of auntie would Theo be if she didn’t absolutely spoil her niece? And any time Theo could visit Mémère for longer than an hour or two was a blessing in its own right.

But the holidays also reminded her of the family she lost, and being the single friend at every holiday party got tiring (especially when her well-intended friends kept trying to set Theo up with people that Theo had absolutely no interest in). It had reached a point that Theo often volunteered to work the holiday shifts, as chaotic as they were, just so she had the excuse to avoid awkward gatherings.

However, when the other Avengers lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the announcement of the Secret Santa gift exchange, Theo kept her mouth shut. She was still relatively new to the team, and it wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to workplace celebrations for holidays she didn’t celebrate.

But of course, this was a group of superheroes celebrating, so it wasn’t a basic Secret Santa; no, of course not, because nothing about them was basic. It was five days of secret Santa.

At least the rules were simple: each person drew the name of another Avenger. Then, you had to give the person whose name you drew a series of gifts with clues about your identity leading up to the final day, when you would give them a gift and a final clue. Then, each person would try to guess who their Secret Santa was. Regardless of whether or not they figured it out, each person would receive one final gift, something a bit more special.

Steve closed the announcement by informing the group they would draw names the following Monday, and would have approximately a month to pick out gifts before they completed the exchange. A certain buzz filled the air as everyone left the conference room, with some reminiscing about funny moments from past exchanges, while others pondered over who they might end up with.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that Theo had the foresight to ask if the Secret Santa exchange was meant to replace getting everyone their own gifts, or if it was in addition to getting everyone their own gifts. Wanda, ever the MVP when it came to explaining unwritten Avengers’ rules to Theo, explained that it was in addition to getting everyone else gifts.

Theo spent the next two days praying she would get someone easy to shop for - after all, she already had to get gifts for a dozen Avengers, plus her hospital colleagues, and her family. She wasn’t sure that she had enough mental capacity to figure out gifts for someone she wasn’t as familiar with.

Of course, some deity had it out for her, because she drew Loki’s name.

Loki, the prince and ‘most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms,’ who could buy or conjure pretty much anything he wanted in the snap of his fingers.

Loki, who, besides being Theo’s best friend among the Avengers, happened to be the person Theo had a massive fucking crush on.

It wasn’t like anything would ever come of the crush - Loki had a firm rule that he did not date. He had no interest in relationships whatsoever. It was a tidbit of information Theo learned early on in her tenure as an Avenger, amidst a conversation about the love lives of the Avengers as a whole. Loki would spend one night with someone, but never allow it to become an ongoing thing - in his words, “everyone has certain needs to satiate, but courting someone is no interest of mine.”

So, despite Theo’s unbidden thoughts of channeling her inner hallmark movie to reveal her feelings to Loki, she needed to figure out how the hell to navigate getting him Secret Santa gifts, a normal gift… oh yeah, and his birthday gift, because that was a week before Christmas.

Inevitably, once they finished drawing names, Theo immediately dragged Wanda down the hall by the sleeve of her red hoodie and into Wanda’s suite, since it was closer than Theo’s.

“What’s going on?” Wanda half-laughed as she closed the door and glanced, worriedly, at Theo, who had started to pace the room. “Are you okay?”

“I need your help with Secret Santa — What the hell do you get someone who could have anything they want for Christmas?” Theo flopped on Wanda’s bed with a dramatic sigh, her mind reeling with how to handle her predicament.

“That depends –” Wanda answered slowly, eyes narrowed as she approached Theo. “Why do you think they have everything?”

“Because he’s a prince and a God who can conjure anything he damn well pleases with the snap of his fingers!” Theo tossed her arms up in the air, gesturing exasperatingly at nothing.

Nothing - just like the ideas she had for Loki’s gifts.

Nothing.

“So you have Loki for your Secret Santa?” Wanda sat down beside Theo, smirking at her.

“Yes!” Theo buried her face with her hands. “I had a hard enough time figuring out a birthday present, and I still haven’t figured out what to get him for a normal Christmas gift! But now I also have to give him a Secret Santa gift?!”

“Gifts, plural.” Wanda reminded her, smirk widening into a rather evil-looking grin. “Remember, it’s a week of lead-up to the final gift, because the goal is to try and have them guess who it is.”

“FUCK.” Theo let her arms drop to her sides. “This isn’t fair—“ she whined, earning a poorly stifled laugh from Wanda.

“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s the only one who is hard to shop for,” Wanda attempted to sympathize, but the giggles that slipped out as she replied did little to help. “Can you imagine having to buy gifts for Tony?”

“Simple, get him booze.” Theo scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows.

Wanda rolled her eyes and adjusted her ponytail, one auburn lock falling aside to frame her face.

“Look, half the fun is writing the little cards that go with each gift to give the person clues about who the gifts are from, and then trying to figure out the identity of your Secret Santa,” Wanda pointed out. “Besides, other than Thor, I’m willing to bet that no one knows Loki as well as you do!”

“That only makes it worse,” Theo complained and flopped back a second time, rolling over to bury her face in Wanda’s burgundy comforter. “Because I know he’s a picky bitch and nothing will be good enough for him.”

The snort that came out of Wanda did nothing to ease Theo’s concern, but it sounded ridiculous enough that even Theo laughed.

“I think that he’d like any gift you give him, simply because it’s from you.”

“That’s cliché as hell.” Theo pressed herself up enough to look over at Wanda, who, despite Theo’s whining and dramatics, still wore a small, knowing smile.

“And true.” Wanda shrugged. “You are, without a doubt, his favorite person on the team, and probably on this planet.”

“Yeah, for all the good that does me.” Theo grumbled to herself, but sat up all the way. “It’s not like I can tell him on day one that I’m his Secret Santa, so the gifts have to be good. No, they have to be perfect.”

“You’re overthinking this.” Wanda chuckled softly, then rose to her feet and held out a hand for Theo to grab onto. “How about we go shopping and see what is out there? Maybe you’ll get some inspiration that way.”

The petulant child within Theo wanted to complain for a bit longer about her predicament, but deep down, Wanda had a good point. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to get out and clear her head before the inevitable descent into holiday madness.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Theo accepted Wanda’s hand and allowed her to pull Theo onto her feet. “I need to get gifts for my family anyways, so maybe i’ll knock it all out at once.”

“Only if I can help you pick out gifts for Katie,” Wanda winked at Theo as she opened the door.

“Deal.” Theo didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Do you have plans for this afternoon? I’m not working, so we could go today…”

Wanda held up her purse and grinned. “Let’s go!”

—

Shopping with Wanda, unsurprisingly, proved to be a fruitful venture.

Sure, the pair went absolutely wild with gifts for Theo’s niece. Would Max kill Theo when he saw just how much stuff Theo got? Absolutely. Did she care? Not a bit; after all, she had to maintain her reputation as the coolest aunt.

More importantly, Theo managed to put together a list of ideas for gifts that referenced inside jokes from the time that Theo and Loki had known each other. Even better - the conversation between Theo and Wanda as they shopped, though wide-ranging and lively, gave Theo the inspiration for her final gift.

In the end, the gifts required some careful planning, calling in some favors, and a lot of sneaking to make it happen - not to mention a few sleepless nights as Theo put the finishing touches on certain details - but she managed to pull everything together, just in time for the first day of gift-giving.

Pepper had really outdone herself with the holiday decorations. On a normal day, the common areas within the tower could be described as minimalist: clean lines, lots of metal and glass, neutral tones everywhere, no knick knacks or soft touches to be found. Not even a throw pillow or blanket could be found in the common areas - whenever Theo wanted a pillow or a blanket, she had to bring it from her suite.

Yet, when everyone filtered into the living room after going out for dinner, they may as well have walked into a luxury ski chalet at Tahoe. In one corner sat a massive, lush evergreen tree trimmed with glistening tinsel, soft white lights, and a collection of beautifully coordinated ornaments in burgundy, cream, gold, navy, emerald, and eggplant.

The fireplace had a beautiful garland of eucalyptus, cypress, and cedar draped across the mantle; tucked among the greenery sat pillar candles of varying heights in burgundy, navy, emerald, eggplant, and gold. Elegant, cream-colored stockings with each Avenger’s name embroidered at the top hung in front of the crackling fire (plus stockings for Pepper and Happy, since they were pretty much unofficial Avengers).

Blankets and accent pillows, some in plaids that incorporated the colors of the ornaments and candles, others in solid colors, all made of luxuriously plush fabrics, found homes on the various seating throughout the living room.

Even the coffee tables had coordinating centerpieces.

Theo quickly found her usual seat, but continued to gawk at the living room’s transformation. When the hell did Pepper (or, Theo supposed, whoever Pepper hired) have the time to decorate the living room? Just that morning, when Theo left for work, the living room had been its usual, minimalist styling. Maybe if she had stopped back in her suite before meeting the others at the restaurant she would have seen the living room decoration in progress.

Hardly a moment later, Loki sat down beside her. Dressed in a forest-green crewneck sweater that perfectly framed the planes of his chest and black dress pants that highlighted his long legs, Loki somehow managed to look holiday appropriate without even trying. His raven curls, just slightly disheveled from the wind and snow outside, framed his elegant features so perfectly; combined with the warm glow of the fire and the soft light of the christmas tree he appeared downright radiant, particularly as he grinned at something Thor said.

“Quite magnificent, is it not?” Loki leaned over and nudged Theo with his elbow, interrupting her train of thought. Theo had to stop for a moment and consider whether he was referring to the himself, or the living room.

“Yeah,” Theo agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she realized Loki caught her staring. “Compared to when I left this morning, it is a night and day difference.“

“I suspect Miss Potts takes great pleasure in decorating for the winter holidays.” Loki offered Theo a soft smile. His soft eyes caught the flicker of the candles atop the coffee table as he studied Theo, and for the second time in less than a couple minutes, she found herself speechless.

Luckily, Dum-E saved the day when he dropped a present on Theo’s lap, and in doing so brought both sorcerers’ attention to the larger group. As it turned out, Dum-E distributed everyone’s gifts - all wrapped in the same paper, to make sure that the gift wrap didn’t give anything away - and as soon as he finished, it was time to open the first day’s gift.

They started with Bruce, then worked their way through a randomly generated list that Steve put together. The soft lights of the Christmas tree, glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, and joyous laughter as each person read their clue and opened their gifts filled the room with such warmth. It was the kind of holiday scene you’d see on a postcard, especially since snowflakes drifted past the tall windows and into the city below.

As they drew closer to Loki’s turn, Theo’s hands began to sweat. What if he didn’t like her gift? Sure, it was kind of corny, but it was a fun reference to how they spent much of their time. He didn’t seem overly thrilled by the idea of Secret Santa in the first place; what if her silly little gifts only made him hate the game?

Well, she didn’t have to wait any longer to find out, because it finally reached Loki’s turn.

Loki picked up the small box, turning it over and inspecting it. He tossed it into the air and caught it in one hand, lithe fingers curling perfectly around the container.

“It is quite light, and rather small,” he observed. “Whatever is in this box does not jostle when moved, so it either fills the box or it is carefully packed in place. Let us see what is inside.”

Loki methodically removed the ribbons, then carefully tore away the gift wrap. He removed the lid in a graceful motion and set it aside, all the while peering into the box. He hummed.

Seeing the fabric folded and coiled inside, he reached in and tugged on the cloth, pulling it from the box. The fabric unfolded as he lifted the gift into the air, revealing the first gift: a pair of crew-length socks - black, with an emerald green heel and toe. On one side of each sock, placed so it would be visible while wearing shoes, was the design of an apple car driven by a worm, as well as text which read: “I’m on my way to the bookstore!”

“Aw, those are cute!” Wanda winked at Theo as she said the words, to which Theo casually agreed.

Loki maintained a relatively neutral expression, though he let out a rather amused hum. He set the socks in his lap, then opened the card. As his eyes scanned over the text, one side of his lips curled up, then the other, until he wore a sheepish smile. He read aloud:

“I know you love the bookstore,

We’ve been there a time or two,

But since I can’t buy the whole store,

I got you a pair of Crew… socks!

Sorry, I know you like poetry, but your Secret Santa isn’t a poet.” Loki chuckled, shaking his head, then continued: “These socks are from Out of Print, which has donated over 5 million books to communities in need and supports a variety of literacy initiatives.”

He looked up from the card and glanced around at the group. “Well, thank you to my mysterious Secret Santa. I quite enjoy a whimsical piece of attire, and I am certain these will be put to good use.”

Next to Loki, Theo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

First day was not a failure.

Only… four more to go.

—

The second day of gift-giving arrived, and with it came another day of second-guessing whether or not Loki would like his gift.

This time, the idea came from a conversation early in their friendship. After falling asleep in Theo’s suite, Loki joined her for coffee on her balcony, at which point Theo explained a sudoku to Loki. At the time, he commented that there were “some puzzles he was still learning to solve.”

From that morning on, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way Loki approached briefings and missions as puzzles to solve. So when Theo found a pair of rather clever puzzle books (many of which provided a formidable challenge, even for her), she knew that it would be a perfect gift.

Yet, as the day crept on and the gift exchange grew near, Theo felt the seeds of doubt taking root once again. What if he thought the puzzles were stupid? He was a god, after all, and insanely intelligent. The puzzles might have been a challenge for Theo, but they were probably child’s play for Loki.

Still, it was too late to turn back, so by the time Theo sat down with the others and the gifts were distributed, she simply hid her sweaty palms in her sweater sleeves and acted like it was any other night in the tower.

Loki, for what it was worth, seemed perfectly relaxed when he took his usual seat beside Theo; this time, he opted for a plain gray t-shirt and a black cardigan, paired with what were (secretly) Theo’s favorite pair of dark, slim-fit jeans. When Loki crossed one ankle over his knee, Theo noticed his emerald green and black socks and her heart skipped a beat - he wore the socks she gave him.

That was a good sign, right?

Once again, Dum-E distributed the gifts, then each person took their turn opening their gift and reading the card; this time they started with Yelena, but otherwise the order was the same. After what felt like ages, Steve finally gave Loki the go-ahead to open his gift.

Like the first day, Loki went through the same routine of examining the box, then peeled away the wrapping paper.

For the sake of maintaining a bit of mystery (and making it slightly less obvious that the gift was a pair of books), Theo put the set into a clothing box and padded the sides. It wasn’t that sneaky, since the box was heavier than it would have been with apparel inside, but at least Loki wouldn’t know until he opened the box.

He opened the box and removed the first book.

“The Master Theorem - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit,” he read the title, then held it up for all to see, then held up the second book and read off the title. “The Master Theorem: Elite - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit.”

He returned the books to his lap, pausing for a moment to flip through the pages and glance at the contents.

“You gonna open the card?” Tony nodded towards the card that came with the box, which barely poked out from beneath the pair of books.

“Ah, yes, apologies.” Loki offered a half-smile, then retrieved the card and read aloud:

“While the identity of your Secret Santa is, well, a secret, it’s no secret that you, Loki, are pretty smart - like, ridiculously smart. And you’re a quick learner… Plus you’ve got a knack for problem solving. With that in mind, you seem to be a master when it comes to puzzles; even though you once told me there are still some puzzles you are learning to solve, the way you light up when you encounter a good logic puzzle or mystery makes me think there are few things you enjoy more than a good challenge.

“This series of puzzle books is notorious for its difficult logic puzzles - the New York Times called the first Master Theorem book “Mensa’s evil twin,” and the Elite edition is supposed to be exponentially harder. But with your sharp wit and attention to detail, I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time… And by the time you finish, maybe you’ll figure out the identity of your Secret Santa as well!”

Loki grinned as he folded the card and set it aside. “Thank you, my mysterious benefactor - I imagine I will be entertained for quite some time.”

For the rest of the evening, whenever Theo snuck a glance at Loki, she caught him flipping through his new books with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his eye, only half-paying attention to the others as they opened their gifts.

Day two: rousing success. Only three more days to go.

—

For the third day of gift-giving, Theo took a bigger risk.

At one point in Theo and Wanda’s shopping adventure, they stopped at a bakery to grab a snack and some coffee. While they waited for their drinks, they got on the topic of how, earlier that morning, Thor offered Loki a frosted pop-tart. In response, Loki nearly disintegrated the thing on sight, calling it an abomination to pastries everywhere.

And that was from Loki, the guy who was notorious for his sweet tooth.

The conversation gave Theo an idea.

Ever since Loki roped Theo into his pranks, Theo had wanted to find a way to turn the tables and prank him. And what better way to prank him than to bait-and switch some sweet treats?

With a call to Theo’s favorite Bodega cashier, Carlos (who still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask out that girl, but had at least he learned her name was Liza), Theo managed to get her hands on one of the big cardboard boxes that they shipped pop-tarts in. Importantly, it said pop-tarts all along the outside, so when Loki saw the box he would initially think it was a whole case of pop-tarts.

Instead of filling it with pop-tarts, Theo convinced Mémère to bake up all sorts of traditional Aneterran holiday treats to fill the box. Given Mémère already planned to make the treats, it was easy for the family matriarch to accommodate the request. However, when Theo explained her plan, a knowing, almost devilish grin spread across Mémère’s face; the next thing Theo knew, there were treats that Theo hadn’t seen since she was a child.

Packing the treats into the box required quite a bit of attention to detail - it had to have the weight and heft of a case of pop-tarts, and it had to be packed tightly enough to not move around, but she also didn’t want to crush the treats.

There may have been some enchantments involved to make it work, but hopefully Loki wouldn’t notice.

Not wanting to make the prank too convincing, Theo made sure to leave clues that the box had been altered somehow; knowing Loki, realizing the box had been tampered with would make him curious enough to look inside.

When everyone gathered for the third night of gift-giving, the laughter and merriment from the first two nights returned almost immediately. But when it came to Loki’s turn to open his gift, Theo’s confidence from the day prior collided with her nerves, to the point that she clutched her mug of spiked hot chocolate so her hands wouldn’t shake.

Just like the first two nights, Loki inspected the wrapped gift, lifting it up and giving it a gentle shake. “Much larger, and rather heavy,” he noted. “Yet, there’s a card that indicates I ought to open it before the gift. I suppose I ought to follow my Secret Santa’s request.”

He set the gift back in his lap, and quickly opened the card.

“Heard you have a sweet tooth…” Loki read aloud, then glanced down at the gift and hummed. “Well, let us see what is inside.”

Loki started to tear away the wrapping paper, but paused part-way through; his face twisted into something unreadable when he saw the writing on the box.

Theo bit her lip to not give herself away.

“Pop-tarts?” Thor exclaimed, cocking his head to the side with curiosity. “Brother, I did not think you to be a fan of the Midgardian pastry.”

“I…” Loki trailed off, face falling as he unwrapped the rest of the box. “Interesting.”

Theo’s heart stuttered in her chest - what if he didn’t think to open the box? Would she give herself away if she said something? Oh god, he looked like a kicked puppy — she should have realized that he might take it wrong because Thor likes pop-tarts and he’s the popular brother, shitshitshit—

“Loki, maybe you should open the box,” Bruce suggested, “There’s a weird wrinkle by the cardboard seam that makes me think it was opened, then closed again.”

If it wouldn’t have given her away, Theo would have leapt to her feet and hugged the man for his suggestion.

“Yeah, that box looks like it has been messed with,” Sam agreed, “and I think everyone knows you hate pop-tarts.”

The kicked-puppy expression softened as Loki took a second look at the box and noticed the obvious tampering that Bruce and Sam pointed out. A hint of pink rose on Loki’s cheeks - if Theo didn’t know better, Loki looked almost embarrassed at the realization - but he went ahead and opened the box.

Theo held her breath, all of her attention trained on Loki as she waited for his reaction.

Peering into the box, Loki’s shoulders suddenly dropped and relief flooded his features; he reached in and retrieved a treat similar to a chocolate scone, as well as a second card.

“Pleased to report that I was mistaken; it appears the box is filled with a variety of homemade treats, as well as a second card.” He let out a soft, almost hesitant chuckle as he opened the note and read aloud:

“HA! Nearly got you, didn’t I?!” Loki laughed a second time, this time a little louder, and nodded his head. “You’ve pulled off some of the best pranks, but your Secret Santa is known for a good prank or two.

“Jokes aside, did you really think your Secret Santa would do that to you? Of course not - I know you have a discerning taste when it comes to sweet treats (far more discerning than your brother, of course)! These are some of my favorite holiday snacks from growing up; I think you’d like them too. If nothing else, I promise they taste better than pop-tarts.”

Loki returned the note to the box, then unwrapped the treat in his other hand. He took a bite, and his face almost immediately lit up. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed, and cleared his throat to speak.

“Well, mysterious Secret Santa,” he said, “I will confirm that this treat is quite divine. However, you best watch yourself– “ Looking around at their teammates, a dark, sinister grin curled over Loki’s face. “– I am known as the Trickster god for a reason, and you may very well have started a war.”

When Loki briefly locked eyes with Theo, her heart skipped a few beats; in just a few moments he went from beautiful to downright devilishly handsome, and his threat should not have been nearly as hot as it was.

Sweet baby Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.

“Any guesses on who it is?” Bucky asked, tapping his vibranium fingers along the side of his still-wrapped present.

“I’ve a few contenders,” Loki smoothly answered, the earlier signs of discomfort completely gone, “but I will wait to put forth any claims.”

“Who cares! The real question is are you gonna share!?” Shuri pointed at the pastry in Loki’s hand, then held out her own hand. “That looks amazing!”

“Maybe once the Secret Santa is revealed, they can bring us all some treats.” Wanda replied, though she gave Theo a pointed glance, to which Theo glared back - after all, she didn’t want Wanda to give her away. “But for now, I think Loki should get to enjoy all of his gifts.”

Loki, who was busy searching through the rest of the box, didn’t seem to notice Wanda staring at Theo.

Shuri glanced at Wanda, then at Theo, then grinned as she made the connection.

“Fine, but they better bring me some extras,” Shuri relented. “That thing looks amazing.”

Theo smiled and rolled her eyes, just in time for Steve to inform Wanda that it was her turn to open her gift.

Day three, though nearly a bust, worked out.

Only two more to go.

—

After the scare of the third day, Theo went into the fourth day feeling more comfortable about her gift. Sure, Loki may shrug at it, and there was a chance he wouldn’t use it. But at least she wouldn’t run the risk of upsetting him by making him believe his preferences were the same as his brother’s.

In some ways, the gift seemed particularly timely: a winter storm raged outside the tower, with howling winter winds and heavy snow that made sitting in the living room feel like they were inside a snowglobe. Even with the heat on and the fire roaring in the hearth, everyone bundled up in sweaters and plush blankets, sipping on mugs of cocoa and tea in between opening gifts.

On the fourth night, Loki’s turn to open his gift came even earlier. Similar to the first three nights, he inspected the box - small, slender, almost like a fancy box for a fountain pen.

After making quick work of the wrapping paper, he glanced at the lid of the box:

“Museum of Modern Art Design Store,” he read, then shrugged and removed the lid of the box.

Nestled among chic black packing material sat a stainless steel tea infuser. Its design was what drew Theo to the gift - long, slender, with a hook on the top for easy removal, it looked downright elegant. And with the amount of tea Loki drank, an upgrade to his usual steeping methods seemed like the perfect sort of gift - thoughtful and useful.

Loki hummed, carefully slipping the tea infuser out of its packaging and inspecting it. The stainless steel glowed beneath the Christmas lights and reflected the smile curling over Loki’s face. He twisted the cap off, then closed it again, nodding to himself as he set it aside and opened the card. Like the first three days, he read the message to the group:

“A tea infuser that combines form and function?! It’s almost as stylish as you are (almost)! As the resident tea expert on the team, it seemed only appropriate to give you something for making your favorite (non-alcoholic) drink - after all, you’ve brought me, your Secret Santa, more than a few drinks over the course of knowing each other!”

The hint, in Theo’s opinion, was almost painfully obvious; Loki brought Theo drinks all the time. Coffee at the hospital when he knew she had a long day. Whiskey or wine when she needed to unwind. Tea when it was late and neither of them could fall asleep. Water when Theo just used her inhaler and needed to rinse out her mouth. Throughout the entire time she had been an Avenger, Theo never saw Loki bring anyone else drinks quite so often - not Thor, not Wanda, not anyone. However, the clue made so much sense, and there was only one more day, so it wasn’t like she had to keep the secret for much longer.

What Theo didn’t account for, however, was almost every other person in the room making the connection between the clue and the identity of Loki’s Secret Santa. Over a dozen pairs of eyes all trained in on Theo as Loki glanced down to set the card and gift aside; the heat of their stares nearly made Theo lose her composure.

When Steve asked if Loki knew who his Secret Santa was, he simply smirked and replied “I’ve my suspicions, but I find I rather enjoy the suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal.”

Somehow, she held it together, but just barely. Sure, Theo was grateful that Loki seemed to enjoy the gifts up to that point, but “suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal?” If Theo was under pressure before, now she was on the verge of being crushed under the weight of expectation, and the whole damn team knew it.

Theo shot a terrified look at Wanda, who only sent back an impish grin.

Shit.

One more day to go.

—

The final day of Secret Santa arrived, and with it, the grand reveal. Apprehension loomed over Theo’s head like a storm-cloud; after all, the pressure was on - not only to give the perfect gifts, but to set up the perfect reveal as Loki’s secret Santa.

Despite the overall success of the first four days, by the time the last exchange began, Theo was too nervous to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey clutched in both hands, offering little more than one-word answers whenever someone tried to ask her something. The only time she even considered sitting down was when Loki asked if she would join him on the couch, but then all the potential ways she might make a fool of herself flooded her thoughts and she politely declined, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs a bit.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki seemed disappointed that she didn’t want to sit by him, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her; after all, Theo was the one with the crush, not Loki.

At least from across the room, Theo could easily admire Loki in his thick, fair isle sweater - seasonally appropriate, of course, but like all of his attire, it fit him perfectly and highlighted his long, lithe form in all the right ways. Between her nerves about the gift and how distractingly handsome Loki was, she barely noticed when the first two Avengers opened their gifts and found out who was assigned as their Secret Santa.

For the final night of the exchange, Loki was the third person to open his gifts.

While Loki focused on the large box in front of him, everyone else stared at Theo. If she could have, she would have melted into the floor; instead, she stood by the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey in both hands, shooting dirty looks at the rest of the group so they wouldn’t give her away.

… Not like Loki hadn’t already figured out that Theo was his Secret Santa, because he likely knew. If he didn’t know, he was about to figure it out, but that was beside the point.

Of all the gifts Theo chose, today’s were the most nerve-wracking because they were the most personal: the pre-reveal gift referenced something Loki gave her when she ended up in the hospital with an asthma exacerbation and pneumonia a few months prior. The post-reveal gift referenced the time all the Avengers visited New Asgard, and Loki took her on a late-night walking tour of the community.

The note on the card was, well, maybe a bit too sentimental - in hindsight, maybe she should have saved the message for a later card that she could have given him in private. But by that point the card was taped to the box in Loki’s lap, and Theo couldn’t do a damn thing about it, other than brace herself for the inevitable fallout.

At least she had the sense to write a disclaimer at the top of the note: “You might want to read this to yourself first, then decide if you want to read it out loud.”

After four days, Loki’s examination of the gift box had become a routine: turn it all around, lift it up in the air, give it a shake - and once he seemed satisfied, he peeled away the wrapping paper.

“Well, I do not have any guesses as to what is inside this box, so I suppose I ought to open it.” Loki remarked, tugging away the last bit of wrapping paper. He conjured a dagger to cut the tape sealing the flaps at the top of the box, though he was careful not to cut deeply and risk damaging the contents inside (which was good, because that dagger would have sliced through the gift like hot butter).

Unlike the previous days, where he immediately looked inside the container, this time he made a show of looking at the others as he reached inside. Theo watched Loki’s arm muscles tense through the wool of his sweater as he grabbed the gift, while his brows furrowed with confusion.

As he turned back toward the box, he slowly pulled out the present: a snake squishmallow, in green, of course - after all, green was his color.

“That’s cute!” Natasha commented, though Loki didn’t seem to notice. He held the plush toy in both hands, turning it side to side as he gave it a once-over. Theo swore she could spot the gears turning in Loki’s head as he tried to make the connection between the toy and his Secret Santa.

“Yeah, but why? I don’t see the connection.” Yelena added, pointing at the card. “Open the card. I want to know what it says.”

Loki slowly set aside the snake, as if still thinking about the gift, and pulled out the note.

Theo watched as Loki methodically scanned the note. At first, he read with heavy brows drawn tightly together; after a few moments, the light from the christmas tree reflected off his sea glass eyes, glittery and shining amidst the soft glow. A shaky, small smile grew as he made his way through the message until it practically took over his face.

“Well, what does it say?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to try and read what was written on the card.

Loki, however, ignored her. Without warning, he closed the card and rose to his feet. In a couple of long strides, he stood before Theo, who could no longer bite back her nervous smile as he drew near.

Theo barely had a chance to set down her mug before Loki scooped her into his arms and crushed her in an embrace, the strength of which forced a small “oof!” out of Theo from the impact. She didn’t waste a moment before returning the embrace, selfishly nuzzling into his chest and drinking in the scent of cologne on his sweater - cedar, bergamot, and smoke - as they stood, arms wrapped around each other and swaying gently from side to side.

Loki leaned down, his nose brushing gently along Theo’s hair, then drew a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Truly. Thank you.”

Theo’s heart damn near exploded.

“Elsa, I really hope that Rapunzel’s your Secret Santa,” Tony, ever the troll, interrupted, “or this is going to get awkward.”

“Yeah, Tony, it’s me.” Theo laughed, her mind reeling as Loki shifted - if Theo’s mind didn’t deceive her, his lips brushed against the crown of her hair. Still, he hadn’t let go, and as long as Loki held on, Theo had no plans of going anywhere.

“Now I wanna know what she wrote on that damn note,” Sam complained between shoving handfuls of caramel corn in his mouth. “Because damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Loki react like that.”

“Can we let him open the other gift first?” Theo asked, still hugging Loki as she looked over at Sam. “After all, there is a part of the message that won’t make sense without seeing the final gift.

“Fine, but afterwards I wanna read the damn note.” Sam grumbled and leaned back in his seat while Bucky leaned over and snatched some caramel corn from him.

Theo begrudgingly pulled away from Loki, silently lamenting the lack of warmth that came with his touch. She rounded the Christmas tree and crouched down to where she hid the final box - a thin, rectangular box that was a bit larger than a poster - and brought it over to Loki, who had returned to his original seat. Theo sat down beside him, nervous but excited to see how he reacted to the last gift.

This time, Loki didn’t spend a moment examining the package - he went straight to tearing off the wrapping paper. With paper crumpled up and tossed aside, he carefully slid the lid off the box.

Centered on a bed of white tissue paper, was a painting - a canvas covered in thousands of small dashes of paint, the result of more than a few sleepless nights as Theo raced to finish the painting on a tight deadline. During the day, Theo hid it beneath a stack of other canvases so if Loki stopped by her suite, he wouldn’t notice; the moment night fell, Theo was elbows deep in oil paint as she added layer after layer of color.

“It’s New Asgard!” Thor exclaimed as he peered over Loki’s shoulder.

“Those are the gardens…” Loki breathed, one hand hovering over the canvas as if he wanted to touch it and prove to himself that it was real.

“The gardens that you created, and that your people and countless tourists adore.” Theo added, her cheeks slightly pink.

Loki’s focus went to the bottom corner, where Theo scrawled her name. It was tiny and borderline illegible because of the paint, but if someone had ever seen her handwriting, they would know instantly who it was. Loki traced his fingers over the letters almost meditatively.

“You made this?” When Loki looked up at Theo, she caught the slightest shine in the corners of his eyes, though his expression was nothing but pure awe. “Was this from memory?”

“God, my memory isn’t that good - I mean, yeah I painted it, but it wasn’t from memory,” Theo rubbed the back of her next, heat rising on her cheeks as Loki continued to gape at her. “I got Val to send me some pictures for reference, and then I worked on it every night after everyone was asleep. I wasn’t sure it would be done in time, if I’m honest, because oil paint takes forever to dry, but it dried just in time. The paint is still going to need some time to fully cure, so I’d be gentle with it.”

For the second time in minutes, Loki pulled Theo into another heartfelt embrace.

“I am… I am speechless. I’ve no words, truly.” He laughed, a rumbling sound that Theo felt as much as she heard it. “Thank you.”

“Okay now we need to know what the hell was on that card.” This time it was Shuri, who looked like she was one step away from snatching the card and reading it out loud herself.

Loki unfurled his arms from around Theo so he could set the painting on the table in front of them, then retrieved the card.

“I think you ought to read it,” Loki held the card out to Theo, his cheeks now flushed with crimson. “I imagine it will sound better in your voice, since you wrote the message.”

Theo rolled her eyes, but accepted the card. She got the sense that Loki felt a bit sentimental himself, and was probably a bit out of his comfort zone; re-reading the message aloud might be more than he thought he could handle. So, despite her heart still fluttering like a goddamn school girl, Theo tried her best to steady her breathing, then cleared her throat and began:

One of Thor’s favorite stories to tell is when you were children and turned into a snake to trick him. One of my favorite things is watching the little smile you get every time he tells the story, like you know you shouldn’t think it’s funny and it makes the story even funnier. I bet you’re making that same smile right now as you think about the story!

This clue will probably give me away, but you once gave me a gift much like this - a plush toy of an unexpected creature, because you realized that the creature shared a connection to my sister. You didn’t make a big deal out of it - telling me you “happened to pass by a shop window and it just seemed like something I would like,” but it meant the world to me; to this day, it is easily the best gift I’ve ever received.

In many ways, that gift is such a great example of why I am so lucky to have you as a friend - you are so incredibly thoughtful and kind, and when you sense that someone is having a tough time you go above and beyond to help, all without making a big deal about it… God knows you did that for me constantly when I first got here! There are, obviously, other reasons that you’re an amazing friend (your sense of humor, intelligence, and patience in putting up with me are also high on the list).

I know none of my Secret Santa gifts have been big or flashy so far, and your final gift isn’t exactly big or flashy either. If I’m honest, I panicked when I drew your name because, well, what do you get someone who could have any gift they wanted? But the more I thought about it, the more I came back to just how lucky I was to have the gift of your friendship (yeah, corny as fuck, sorry - you’re the silvertongue, not me!). I can’t ever give you a gift that would compare, but I can at least make sure you know just how grateful I am for you and how much of a difference you make. Without a doubt, my life is better because you’re in it, as are the lives of many others.

So, for your final gift, I made you something that I hope will remind you of not just the impact you’ve made on me, but the impact you’ve made on countless others, every time you see it.

Merry Christmas Loki.

Yours,

Secret Santa.

P.S. I hope you can forgive my sentiment. Not all of us can be as cool as you.”

By the time Theo finished reading the message aloud, her entire body felt like it was on fire from the combination of her nerves and the others’ burning stares. With trembling hands, Theo slowly closed the card and set it on her lap, eyes focused downward the entire time.

“I didn’t realize it was possible to win at Secret Santa… ” Peter finally broke the silence, beaming as he looked at the pair. “... But I think Theo just won Secret Santa.”

“I think everyone’s going to want you as their Secret Santa next year,” Steve chuckled, nodding along. “Still, we aren’t done with this year’s Secret Santa - I believe Wanda, you’re up next?”

With that, the attention shifted away from the two sorcerers sitting side-by-side on the couch, and onto the rest of the festivities. While Wanda made a scene trying to deduce clues about her gift, Loki casually slipped his hand over to Theo, interlacing his fingers with hers. In turn, Theo leaned her head on Loki’s shoulder and settled into his side.

By that point, she was only-half watching as Wanda opened one last gift. Frankly, Theo hadn’t heard who Wanda’s Secret Santa was, but she wasn’t that interested.

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Theo whispered, giving Loki’s hand a squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, Theo,” he murmured, turning so his lips brushed Theo’s temple. “I think this might be the first year that I’ve understood why one might enjoy Midgardians’ holiday festivities.”

Cozily tucked into Loki’s side, amidst the golden glow of the holiday lights and the spirited laughter of friends, Theo had to agree: maybe the holidays weren’t so bad after all.

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #tooth-rotting fluff #tooth rotting fluff #holiday fic #christmas fic #christmas fluff #loki x ofc #mutually pining idiots

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sammytherat · 3 months

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HAPPY EASTER!!! [AND TRANS VISIBILITY DAY!!!!]

Tried painting for once, and I finally figured it out so expect more digital painting from me !!! had a blast drawing this one, and I have another drawing planned

sorry for the odd rabbit population…. he wanted the real deal

#ultrakill #ultrakill art #digital art #ultrakill gabriel #v1 ultrakill #v2 ultrakill #ultrakill fanart #ultrakill easter #easter #rabbit #bunny

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starcrossedxwriter · 8 months

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Built for Love Part 12 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: Our favs are back!! And trying to recover from everything. Enjoy!!

***

“You know you don’t gotta hide looking at it, right?” Michael leaned over to mutter in her ear as he rounded their island to the sink.

Charlotte’s gaze fell to the side as she bowed her head in slight embarrassment at being caught examining the perfect rock on her finger.

It had been days since the proposal and she was still unaccustomed to it, the weight of it on her finger and the weight of what it meant to them both. She had spent countless nights fantasizing of what a life with Michael could be and now her fantasies were coming true. She constantly found her eyes drawn to it throughout the day as she questioned whether the proposal was really real or merely a dream.

They had not told a soul about their engagement yet, not even their families. While they wanted to share the exciting news with everyone, they felt this was not something they wanted to share over the phone. And they planned to go home to LA at the end of the month for Easter weekend as Charlotte had some time off. They also knew once they told their families, there was no guarantee they would be able to keep it secret for long. And they were not ready to tell the world just yet. Charlotte was still healing and reeling from Shaun’s attack and not used to being the center of social media debates and conversation or a hot topic on talk shows. And they knew their engagement would only draw more attention to her and them that they did not want just yet.

Tomorrow would be her first day back at work, and really her first time leaving their house for more than a walk around their neighborhood. Throughout the entire day, Michael would have been lying if he said a significant part of him had not hoped she would wake up and realize she needed more time to recover. And while skillful makeup and the facade of a performer would earn her praise on social media and in the media for returning to normal so quickly, in private things were still far from normal.

“Sorry,” she laughed. “I feel crazy but I can’t take my eyes off it, it’s fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Michael’s face lit up at her praise. He had picked well. “I know, I’ve caught you staring at it nonstop for the last couple days.”

“Well you did good.” She stood and kissed him on the cheek before walking over toward the couch to grab the remote. “Wanna watch another episode of Housewives before we head to bed? We’re so far behind on this season,” she grumbled to herself as she turned on their tv.

“Sure but first, we need to talk.”

Charlotte groaned, those were words no person in a relationship ever wanted to hear. And she knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. She and Michael rarely argued, she could count the number of them on one hand. However, she knew this one had been brewing slowly as her return to work drew closer. She was honestly surprised he let it go this long. Wishful thinking, she supposed, that he would not say anything at all.

“If it’s about what I think it’s about, then we already talked about it days ago and came to an agreement, Bakari. Hence the very scary former special forces white man that’s gonna play my shadow for months,” she mumbled in annoyance.

It was not that she did not understand the point of security, she did. But that did not stop her from resenting the fact that she needed it, this human barrier that sat her apart from the masses as if she were too important or too fragile. It felt unnecessary and ridiculous but acquiescing to this request was the only way Michael would agree to let go back to the theater so early. So her frustration seemed to double at the idea that he wanted to revisit this conversation after she already compromised.

“Well, I’d like to reopen the discussion.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes as she settled on the couch, her movements were still stiff, her body not fully healed but she felt well enough to perform. Unfortunately, her fiancée did not share her opinions on her healing process.

“I’m fine and I’m going back to work tomorrow. I agreed to have security at your insistence. There’s really nothing to discuss.”

“I disagree.” Michael’s arms were folded and his face stern as he perched on the arm of their sectional. “You’re still having nightmares and you’re still in pain. I mean can you even dance?”

Truth be told, he was shocked he was even having to fight her on this. He just knew she would get to the weekend and see how little her healing had progressed and ask for more time off. That she had taken his concerns for her well being and safety seriously and was going to change how she pushed herself to the limit. However, instead he found that she was dead set on it, rehearsing and preparing for work as if nothing was wrong. But in his opinion, everything was wrong.

While he would admit she was handling it better than he would have expected, she was still not ok. She was still in pain despite her attempts to hide it from him. She was far more jumpy than she ever was before. And aside from the night he proposed, she woke them both up with nightmares every single night. Some were marginally better than others but they were a reminder that while her physical injuries would heal in a linear fashion, her trauma would not. They were in for months of steps forward and steps backwards. And though he knew she could not realistically take months off, he wanted her to consider, at least, taking another week to get on stronger footing.

The engagement helped them both, provided some light and hope at the end of the tunnel and they both clung to it for dear life in their own ways. But he knew that was a fleeting feeling, the happiness and joy of the engagement would not be enough to overshadow the trauma and pain she felt forever, no matter how much she focused on that.

She sucked her teeth. “You know before you, I danced through a hell of a lot worse than a few bruises and a concussion. I’m fine.”

“That ain’t the sellin’ point you think it is. Your body needs rest. The doctors said you’re lucky he didn’t damage your vocal chords from choking you, you don’t need to be singing for 2 hours a night. Also you don’t even know what effect going back there will have on you.”

Charlotte scoffed. “One, my voice is fine. I practiced last night.” Though she wasn’t going to admit that it was extremely hard and painful to sing. “I’ll be fine! He what? Scared me a couple of times there? It’s not like he attacked me in the theater. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?? You almost dying isn’t a big deal??”

“You know what I mean! Look, I think I have a bit more experience dealing with PTSD than you do. I feel well enough to perform so I’m gonna. That’s that.”

“So I don’t even get a say? Get to give you my opinion at all?”

Charlotte crossed her arms like a petulant child, her annoyance at having this discussion again shutting down any opportunity for her to hear his side or perspective. In her opinion, the time for his opinions had passed. “Well, it’s my career, not yours. It’s my body, not yours. I am the victim of a stalking, sociopath, not you. Why would you get a say in it? I know we’re engaged but that doesn’t mean I’m not my own person anymore.”

“I know you’re your own person. But you also don’t get to make unilateral decisions, Charlotte! You making unilateral decisions is why we’re in this situation!”

Charlotte scoffed. “And there it is… if you want me to take your opinion seriously, then admit what’s really going on here. This isn’t about me o-or my injuries or any stupid shit like that. You know I can perform just fine. You don’t trust me to take care of myself, you’re pissed that I took away your opportunity to save me and now you don't want me out of your sight.”

“Well in my sight, he can’t fuckin’ try to kill you again.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Well, between the special forces nigga you forced me to hire and the venue security, I don’t see that happening! Also despite what you clearly think, I can take care of myself!”

Michael’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “You can take care of yourself? So that bruise on your side? On your face? Your concussion and stint in the hospital, were you just warming up during all those fights? Because I sure as fuck ain’t gonna forgot having to pull him off you while he tried to choke the life out of you any time soon! He’s out on bail and out in the world and I love you but no, you can’t defend yourself against him. You ain’t gonna act like I’m crazy for being worried.”

“‘I can’t defend myself??’ So you think I’m weak?” For some reason, that struck a nerve so deep in her that she felt herself quickly transitioning from annoyance and frustration to full blown rage.

“No that’s no-”

“Well that’s exactly what you just said! I’m weak and defenseless and need you to take care of me. I mean, is that what you really think of me? Because if so, why would you even want to date, let alone marry, someone you think so little of?”

“That’s not what I think!” He yelled, his frustration getting the better of him as he abruptly stood up from his seat and threw his hands in the air. He turned away from Charlotte to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts.

However, when he turned around, he felt his heart break slightly as he took in her form. He would take a hundred versions of her yelling at him over the petrified woman who sat before him now. Her entire body trembled with fear as she avoided his eyes and moved herself to the edge of the couch as if she was ready to escape at a moment’s notice. Her ragged breathes filled their living room as she tried to calm down.

Michael could not figure out what happened until he replayed the last 30 seconds in his own head, quickly realizing that she was fearful that he was going to strike her.

And these were the moments that made all of this so hard for him. This was not the first time in their relationship that something triggered her, but her reactions were so visceral now that they knocked the wind out of him. He hated himself for letting his anger get the best of him to the point that he forgot to prioritize her healing and health. He never wanted her to think he would ever do something to hurt her, never wanted her to think he was like Shaun in the slightest.

He desperately wanted to rush to her side and envelope her in a hug, assure her that he would never - no matter what - raise a hand to her. But he had enough experience with this to know that she had to choose to come to him, had to choose to trust that his touch was gentle and safe. That was not something he could force on her. So he steered himself to the cushion of the couch and sat down.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. You know I’d never hurt you. Just take a few deep breaths and when you’re ready to talk, let me know.”

Charlotte just nodded as she buried her face in her hands for a few moments. She repeated the same mantra she did after nightmares and when she was feeling like there was no safety or security anywhere for her. Her therapist had told her to make a list of everything and everyone who made her feel safe and the very short list had Michael at the top.

Michael is safe. Michael is home. Michael is safe. He doesn’t hurt you, he makes you feel protected and whole.

It was a small thing but it had become an anchor after nightmares or when memories flooded her mind. Michael was safe and he would never harm her. She would not claim to know everything but she certainly knew that. It took a few minutes as she repeated those words over and over under her breath, and her fingers twisted her engagement ring on her finger. Another coping mechanism she had turned to. That ring meant so much, representing the depths of his love for her. And that was another anchor to her reality, and a reminder that Shaun could invade her sleep and her mind but he could not take anything away from her if she did not let him.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she whispered. “I k-know you wouldn’t… I just…” she struggled to find the words to express the chaotic jumbled up mess that was her own mind. But now, she did not even care about the show anymore, part of her just wanted him to not be upset with her. “I d-don’t want you to be mad. I-If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. Ok? I’ll call Chris and I’ll stay.”

Michael immediately shook his head and moved to sit by her, unable to keep his distance. He tentatively touched her bare knee, rubbing it gently as she relaxed into his touch. “I’m sorry, Els. I’m not mad at you. And I don’t want you not to go just to appease me. I’m just… fuckin’ terrified. If you go back and something else happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself. And security or not, the only person I trust with your safety right now is me and I know I can’t be there every day to protect you. But here? I can protect you, I can…” he sighed. “I’m just having a hard time l-letting go.”

She wiped away a few falling tears. “I know… I get it. Going isn’t easy for me either,” she clarified. “I just… know I have to. I would happily stay in this house with you forever. But I know I can’t… I h-have to go and prove to the world and myself that he didn’t destroy me… that I’m not weak. I’m terrified he’ll be there o-or pop up somehow. But I might feel that way for a long time and I can’t stay here with you forever. That’s what he wants, power over us and our lives and I can’t give him that. But I can’t do that if the one person who knows me better than everyone else thinks I’m too weak to do it.”

“You’re right. You’re right. You’re strong and if you feel like you’re ready, I don’t get to argue with that. I’m sorry… this is just… harder than I thought it’d be.”

Charlotte shook her head and turned to him. “No, don’t apologize for being overprotective. You’re dealing with trauma just as much as I am. We got a bit caught up in the engagement and… planning for the future doesn’t mean we don’t have to deal with what’s going on right now. I know it’s hard for you too.”

“Sorry… I don’t wanna be overbearing. I just want to keep you safe.”

She chuckled. “You’ve barely let me out of this apartment in a week… the overbearing ship has sailed. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. But I have to do this tomorrow, and I hope you can respect that.”

Michael leaned in and kissed her softly, cupping her face with his hand. He felt her slightly flinch beneath him as he accidentally grazed a healing bruise. However, she did not pull away and returned his kiss earnestly.

“They’ll go away,” she whispered against his lips, kissing his cheek as his eyes darkened. “I’ve gotten used to them.” It was as if her body was so used to it, the bruises and pain barely phased her.

“I’ll never get used to seeing bruises on you, baby.” He pushed her wild curls behind her ear. “You’re the strongest person I know, by the way. I don’t think you’re weak and you shouldn’t either. It takes so much strength to survive all you have.”

Charlotte felt her eyes go a bit teary. She did not know why the words mattered so much coming from him but they did. Perhaps, it was just the way she wanted him to see her and everything they were going through threatened that image of perfection and strength she always strived for, that image of deservedness she felt she had to maintain to keep him. She needed him to see her as the woman he would want to spend the rest of his life with, not a traumatized broken thing he had to put back together.

“Thank you for saying that.”

He opened his arms and she quickly settled into them, immediately feeling more at ease than she had before. He leaned back on the couch and turned the tv on to their mindless favorite show, the Real Housewives of Atlanta. It was mainly Charlotte’s guilty pleasure but Michael could not deny that it had sucked him in too.

“Thank you,” she whispered as they watched the show.

“For what?”

She smiled. “For caring enough about me and my health to be overbearing. I w-wouldn’t have survived all this without you.”

She shifted into his lap to kiss him deeply. However, before she could take it too far, he stopped her and broke their kiss.

“You have an early day tomorrow. Not tonight.”

Charlotte opened her mouth to retort but Michael’s attention had already shifted away from her and back to the antics of the housewives. She hoped the night of their engagement had not been some odd anomaly and that they were truly back on track. Sex was not the end all be all of their relationship but she knew how important it was to both of them. And it did not bode well to her that they had only been intimate once in a week, injuries or no injuries. But she also knew she was not up for another difficult conversation tonight and she knew that that was one she would most certainly lose so she merely settled against his chest to watch their show, tucking the information away for discussion later.

***

“I-I guess I should leave this here?” She mused, a sad expression on her face as she examined her ring. “I can’t wear it on stage.”

Michael raised an eyebrow as he studied her and the expression on her face. “You don’t gotta take it off if you don’t wanna.”

She shook her head. “Chris texted, the paparazzi and reporters are already at the theater so it’ll be all over the gossip sites before lunch if I wear it. It just feels weird to take it off.”

“You sure you gotta go this early?”

She nodded. “Yea I haven’t done the choreo or anything in almost a week. Gotta practice, make sure I can actually move fully and everything.” She glanced over to him and offered him a suggestive wink. “I could be persuaded to go a little later if you help me warm up.” She grabbed his sweater and pulled him in for a kiss.

He chuckled and kissed her. “You’re still injured.”

She wrinkled her nose in confusion. “That wasn’t a problem the other night?”

“Well… we both had an emotional day and were caught up in the moment and shit. I’d feel better if we waited till you heal fully. Just like I’d feel better if you take it easy today.”

Saying no to her was easily the hardest thing Michael ever had to do. But after seeing her last night, seeing her genuinely afraid that he was going to hurt her, he could not risk doing anything that could trigger her again, at least not until he was sure she was healed emotionally and physically. It sucked and it would mean many cold showers in his future but it was for the best.

However, Charlotte was not a mind reader. All she felt was the cold slap of rejection from the man she loved. Charlotte found his response odd but she decided not to press it. She supposed the night of their engagement was just a heat of the moment sort of thing. This was, after all, not her most attractive state.

“I’ll be fine, Bakari.”

“I could come with you?”

Charlotte bit her lip as she stifled the immediate yes that bubbled to the surface. As she watched him yawn, she suddenly felt the weight of how much of a burden she was to him. All he had done was adjust his life to hers so she could heal. She just wanted to feel like his equal again and that meant she could not rely on him for everything.

“Thanks for the offer but I’m good. I’ll be fine.” She tried to make her voice sound sure and decisive, despite the doubt on his face. “Besides, let me worry about you for once. You need sleep without me screaming you awake, babe. You’re exhausted.”

Michael could not disagree more but something in her tone made him want to acquiesce to her words, despite his reservations. She was not wrong that he could use some true uninterrupted rest.

“You sure? I really don’t mind coming, nothing wrong with needing some extra support.”

Charlotte stopped herself from taking him up on the offer. “I know… But I got Adam and we’ll be just fine.”

“You sure?” He walked over and tilted her chin up to examine the bruising on her face.

She had not finished putting on her make up yet. They were looking better and better each day, though they were not healing fast enough for Michael’s liking. His eyes darkened slightly, Charlotte rubbing his bare arm.

“I’ll be back to my perfect flawless self soon, promise.” She pecked him on the nose. “And yes, I promise. I know you got shit to do.”

She walked back to their master bathroom to finish her routine. She took extra care to ensure every bruise and cut was adequately covered before she finished getting dressed. It was like riding a bike, remembering all the techniques to hide the damage he caused. By the time she was done, her skin looked unblemished enough to pass the test with any photographer.

As she walked around their bedroom, gathering all of her things for the show, she forced herself to think positively as images of Shaun flashed in her mind. She refused to give in to them though. He had taken so much, she refused to let him take this too.

“Got everything? Baby?” Michael called, pulling Charlotte out of her thoughts, putting his hand on the small of her back when she did not register him. .

She jumped slightly at his touch. She tried to play it off but she could tell he noticed in how his eyes softened slightly.

“Yea, yea sorry. Was in my own head. I’m ready. Adam’s been waiting for me downstairs, I should go.”

She kissed him on the cheek and threw him a soft smile before heading toward the door. She grabbed her keys and her bag as she moved through the living room. However, the ding of the elevator as it opened left her paralyzed, unable to force herself to cross the threshold out of her cocoon and into the real world again. A wave of panic washed over her at leaving for the first time alone and going back there, where he was. She tried to remind herself that he was not there but then all the nightmares of the last week came rushing back. She did not talk about them, particularly not to Michael, because she knew he would never have let her leave if she did. But she could not stop herself from thinking of the worst case scenario now.

Was she a complete fool for leaving her one and only safe space to give him another opportunity to hurt her? She got lucky twice but she had a sickening feeling Shaun would not error a third time if given the chance to finish the job. All week, had she been completely deluded for believing he would not be so foolish as to try to hurt her again? But when had he ever cared about restraining orders or police? The law had not once stopped him for exercising his control, power, and revenge over her when he really wanted to. Why would it now?

A voice rang out loudly in her head, encouraging her to turn right around and retreat into her bed with Michael where it was safe. But another voice demanded she put one foot in front of the other and face him head on again. She did not cower before, she could not now. It was all just too much, too scary, too much to consider for one person.

“Els, baby… Focus on me.”

She glanced up from the floor to find Michael standing in front of her, his face twisted up in concern. She did not understand what was wrong until she heard them, the shallow quick breaths that filled their quiet foyer that belonged to her.

“That’s it, breathe. You’re ok. Just got a little overwhelmed,” he whispered to her as he took slow deep breaths with her. He knew it was too much too fast. But when it came to her career, Charlotte was the first person he had ever met that was more stubborn than him.

He cradled her head into the space between his neck and shoulder, Charlotte taking deep breaths of his cologne and natural scent. His arms were tightly wrapped around her. She would have thought it would be suffocating during a panic attack but it was grounding to her, his touch, his soft whispers in her ear.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I-I can do it… I can do it.”

“Hey, look at me, honeybee.” He waited until her glossy eyes were on him before he said, “I know nothing I can say will stop you from going today. But it’s ok if you’re not ok yet, Charlotte. Being scared and honest about that doesn’t make you weak and it doesn’t mean he wins. It doesn’t tell the world you're powerless. It tells them you’re human. And it’s ok to need and want extra support. All you gotta do is ask, baby.” He kissed her ring finger, which was now bare as she had taken it off in their room. “You never gotta do anything alone again. Understand?”

Charlotte glanced up at the ceiling to stop the floodgates from opening. “I j-just feel like such a burden to you these last few days. You’ve done nothing b-but take care of me,” she whispered. “I need to go… I know I do. I have to go, Bakari. B-but I don’t think I c-can go without you. With you is the only place I f-feel safe right now.”

He kissed her temple. “You’ve never been and will never be a burden to me, love. Give me five minutes.” And with that, he disappeared back into their bedroom.

Charlotte sat down in one of their living room chairs and placed her head in her hands. She hated how quickly she caved. She could not even make it out of their house, let alone to work. She choked back a small sob, this was not how she saw her triumphant return going down. She felt ashamed of herself for not being stronger, for not holding it together better. She just wanted to be strong again, herself again, but that felt farther away than she would have liked.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Els, stop it. You’re going, that’s what matters… not what support you need to do it. This isn’t a bad thing.”

She wiped her tears away and took a deep breath before nodding. She was doing the best she could. And that would have to be enough.

“You’re right, you’re right. Let’s go.”

Michael interlocked his fingers with hers as he led her back to the elevator. With his presence by her side, stepping into the elevator and the ride down seemed for less jarring, though she could feel her heart racing slightly. She was thankful to find their street void of paparazzi and cameras when they exited.

Michael, a saint, used the car ride to distract her, sharing updates on Black Panther prep he was about to start. She listened intently as he explained the new diet and workout regime he would have to follow to get the build required for the character. He had no insight to the plot but he shared some directions he thought they might go in based on the comic lore. Listening to him talk about work for 20 minutes was the exact distraction she needed and she was thankful to him for it.

His musings carried them the entire 20 minute ride to the theater, Charlotte not surprised but annoyed to find a crowd of cameras and people right outside the entrance staff used.

“Shit. Is almost dying really that interesting to anyone??” She remarked to Michael as Adam asked them to pause while he studied the terrain. He had explained to them yesterday that he had already gone to the theater and done his usual recon. Charlotte could not help but roll her eyes at that. She was not the damn pope or Queen Charlotte herself… she was just Charlie.

“Well, being attacked on the opening night of your show is shocking so it’s newsworthy to someone.”

“It’s weird,” she decided. Charlotte liked that her star was a small one. She did not want or care for fame, never wanted to be one of those celebrities that called the paparazzi to follow their every move. She wanted to do what she loved but she also wanted a quiet life, one with some modicum of privacy.

“Ready when you are, Ms. Bennett.”

She took a deep breath, sliding her shades onto her face. Michael pressed his lips to her hand, which was still interlaced into his. He had only let her go once to get in the car.

“I’m right beside you.”

“I know you are,” she responded sweetly. “Ready.”

Adam jumped out of the car first and opened their door, Michael sliding out before Charlotte. She focused on Michael’s hand in hers as she ignored the loud calls and flashes of the cameras. The only thing that made her pause was a pack of fans that gathered on the opposite side, most of them young women and holding signs of support for her that made her heart swell. She originally had no intention of stopping or talking to anyone when she thought it was just reporters and express. But those girls added a detour to her journey, much to Adam and Michael’s annoyance.

All of them held bright smiles as she pushed her shades onto the top of her head. Many of them had Playbills from the show, clearly having gone in the last week and others just had pieces of paper and signs that they asked her to sign. She tried her best to sign every Playbill and paper shoved in her face and smile in the direction of every camera for every selfie.

Charlotte still found the idea that she had fans to be jarring. It was one aspect of her job that she was not used to at all, that people would camp out anywhere on a cold NYC morning for the chance to get a glimpse of her.

One of the girls standing there asked for a selfie and as she took it, she said, “Could you sign this? We,” she gestured at the girl next to her that carried such a striking resemblance that she had to have been her twin. “Wanted to get tickets for tonight too but…”

“The ones that were left were so expensive.” The other girl jumped in. “Guess we aren’t the only ones desperate to see you on stage.”

“We’re here visiting our parents and heading back to Yale tomorrow but figured we could try to get a glimpse of you,” the first girl admitted. “I… just want to say thank you.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For showing that leaving is hard but it's never the wrong choice. And that if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll find better,” she glanced at Michael who was quietly standing beside her.

Charlotte clenched her eyes shut to stop a tear from falling. This girl could not have been a day over 18 or 19.

“What’s your name?”

“Chantal and this is my sister, Courtney.”

She nodded. “Adam,” she called over to the stoic man who had been standing between her and the crowd on the other side of the walkway. “Can you bring Chantal and Courtney around the barrier and inside?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Both girls were the picture of shock as they made their way around the steel barriers and followed Charlotte and Michael inside. The young woman marched them around to the General Manager’s office upstairs, both girls utterly perplexed and confused.

“Charlie! It’s so good to have you back! Chris has been a pain in the ass without you,” Simon remarked as he stood up and wrapped her in a tight hug.

Charlotte laughed. “Thank you, and I can only imagine.” She flashed him her award-winning bright smile. “Your favorite actress needs a favor?”

“You name it.”

“Four front row seats for tonight for my friends here,” she gestured to the two girls, whose mouths had fallen open behind her.

“You got it. What are your names?”

Both girls stammered out their full government names while Simon tapped away at his computer.

“Done. Tickets’ll be waiting for you at will call tonight.”

“Thank you! You’re the best.” She retreated from his office before walking the girls back to the front to head outside.

“W-wait, that w-wasn’t a joke right?”

Charlotte laughed. “No, not a joke at all. I hope your parents enjoy musicals too. Either way, I hope you both enjoy the show tonight at least.”

Both girls squealed and threw themselves into her arms, causing Charlotte to laugh. She hugged them both before stepping back.

“Well, I gotta go rehearse. Make sure I can give y’all the best show possible.”

“Thank you SO much! You’re amazing and we love you.”

“No thanks necessary at all. See you tonight.” As the girls scurried off, Charlotte turned to stop them. “Chantal!”

The young girl turned around as Charlotte closed the space between them.

“You will… find better. The road might be long as fuck,” she admitted, causing the two girls to laugh. “And you’ll take a lot of steps back to take them forward. But it’s not about luck. It’s about knowing you deserve it and being… willing to accept it when it comes. I,” she glanced behind her at Michael who was waiting. “I struggled with that. But I deserved better and you do too, no matter what someone else made you believe.”

She reached into her purse and grabbed a pen and a spare piece of paper from her notebook. She jotted down her name and phone number and held it out to the young girl who seemed like her jaw might completely detach itself from her face.

“I know how hard it is… and lonely it is at first. If you need anything, don’t hesitate. And I mean that, truly.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed her hand before rushing back to her sister, both girls leaving with a bit more pep in their steps.

She walked back over to Michael who was sporting a look of pure shock.

“What?”

“I am just constantly in awe of you.” He pulled her into his arms and wrapped one arm around her waist. “How’d I get so lucky?”

She smiled. “Pretty sure I’m the lucky one, baby.”

They shared a chaste but sweet kiss when they heard a couple wolf whistles. Charlotte laughed as she took in Chris and Marcus both staring at them.

“The queen is back! Thank the good lord,” Chris remarked as he closed the space between them. “Between this damn ulcer and the nightmares, Jason and my doctor will be sending you a fruit basket and flowers.”

“My understudy wasn’t that bad,” she remarked. The young woman was green to be sure but she was good.

“Yes but she is no you, my dear. You are one of one.”

“How are you feeling?” Marcus asked as he pulled her into a hug, he examined her with the same quizzical eye Michael often did which made her laugh.

“She’s fine. Been here five minutes and already giving away four of my most expensive seats in the house. Typical altruistic Charlie.” At Charlotte’s shocked face, Chris shrugged. “I know everything that happens round here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for them.”

He shook his head. “Don’t stress about it. We have a block of tickets we budget to give away for one reason or another.” He glanced at Michael beside her. “I see you brought our favorite eye candy back with you.”

Charlotte laughed and rolled her eyes. “Well, leaving the house was harder than I thought it’d be so Michael offered to come hang out for a bit. Hope that’s ok?”

“Girl, whatever you need to get your ass back on that stage, I’m fine with. Rehearsal starts in 10.”

He waved at all of them before leaving Charlotte, Michael, Malcolm and her shadow alone.

“How are you? Really?”

While she adored Chris, Malcolm was who she was closest to in the show and was the only one who truly knew her.

“We’re taking it hour by hour,” she admitted. “And today started off rough but it’s turning around. I’m gonna be ok, I know that much.”

“That’s what we like to hear.”

They walked into the theater, the entire company giving Charlotte applause as she walked in. Michael took his seat as she got on stage and did a quick round of hugs to everyone. And then they jumped right into rehearsal.

Michael spent part of the time doing his own work, answering emails that he had neglected over the last week. He did not regret that but his inbox was abysmal. He knew Charlotte’s was exactly the same. She had talked to her manager once or twice but no work had been accomplished in a week.

Then he started reviewing the script for his upcoming project. He had been excited originally to play the role but now, he was merely annoyed because it meant he had to return to LA in late June. He did not want a renewal of their argument from the previous night but he knew there was absolutely no way he could convince Charlotte to cut her run short and return with him. And June was Tony’s season and nominated or not, Charlotte would never miss that. However, all of those reasons did not change the simple fact that Michael was fucking terrified.

This was the love of his life, his future wife, the future mother of his children. Would work ever be more important to him than her safety? And it was not that he did not trust Adam, after all he picked him. But Adam did not love her like he did, did not understand her like he did. Even though it was months away, leaving felt utterly and completely wrong now. And he could not shake the feeling that it was not only a bad idea, it was the worst mistake he could ever make. He knew he could not drop out but he toyed with the probability of getting them to push the filming back, even just a month or two. He decided he’d reach out to his manager and see if it was a possibility.

He found himself often distracted by Charlotte as she rehearsed. She was a bit stiff at first but she loosened up and fell back into the choreo with ease. This was truly her element, everyone on that stage looked to her for guidance, advice, and support. He could see why Chris was so determined to have her back as soon as possible. She was the glue.

In between rehearsal and the show, she did interviews that she had not had the chance to do after the premiere. Michael sat next to the young girls they met earlier and their parents and they were utterly in awe of her as she performed. Despite everything, she was better than she was opening night, perhaps because she felt she had more to prove. She left her heart and soul on that stage.

So much so that she quite literally fell asleep as soon as they got into the SUV to head home. She was utterly beat. She had held it together pretty well most of the day from Michael’s perspective, only having one panic attack when she went back to her dressing room for the first time.

She felt like the ghost of him loomed in the space in a weird way. So much so that she avoided the space until the last possible second and could not enter it alone. She questioned how she would do it every day when Malcolm offered to switch spaces with her. She objected at first, naturally, not wanting to feel like she needed accommodations from anyone. But Michael insisted and she could not deny that it eased some of her panic.

However, when they got home, she was fairly silent and seemed upset. Michael did not understand why, she had done exactly what she had wanted to today: she had proved he could not take this away from her.

“You were great today,” Michael offered as they settled into bed. “On all counts.”

She chuckled humorlessly. “I couldn’t even walk into my own dressing room, Bakari. Couldn’t leave this fuckin’ house without…” She shook her head as she looked up at the ceiling. “I saw him everywhere… like a fuckin’ ghost haunting me every second. And the only thing that stopped me from literally falling apart was being able to look over and see you. If I can’t keep it together on my own, then I can’t…” she clenched her eyes shut. “And then I come here and I try to sleep and he’s there too. J-Just… don’t get a fucking break.”

She frustratedly wiped a tear from her cheek and flipped onto her side to look away from him.

Michael sighed and shifted closer to her, spooning her. She tensed up at the unexpected touch before softening into him.

“I know today was hard. But Els, baby… you did it. You left the house, you got on stage, you got a new dressing room, you gave interviews and did everything you needed to do without skipping a beat. That’s not nothing. It’s ok to not be able to hold it together all by yourself. Lean on me, lean on Malcolm and Chris and your castmates to get through the day.”

“I don’t want special treatment… I don’t want people to see me as their traumatized coworker. I don’t wanna be the weak person he made me forever. It took me years to get over what he did the first time a-and I don’t have years. You aren’t gonna wait years, the world isn’t gonna wait years. I just… want to be ok again now.”

“Didn’t you tell that girl earlier that it would be a lot of steps back to go forward?”

She groaned, annoyed that he was throwing her own words back at her.

“Yes but-“

“No buts. You gotta give yourself some grace, baby. You’re gonna have good days when you feel invincible and you’re gonna have days when it feels like you can’t hold it together on your own. And you don’t have to. You’re not broken,” he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “You never were and you certainly aren’t now. It’s gonna be a long road but you aren’t walkin’ it alone.”

“I just…” her words failed her but something in her told her to put on a brave face. She knew she was not walking it alone but she also knew she could not keep bearing all her weight on MIchael. She had to start carrying some of it on her own. Even if he currently felt like she was not a burden, there was no telling how long that feeling would last.

So she nodded and turned over to face him. “You’re right. It was a good first step and tomorrow’ll be even better. Thanks for today.”

“Of course. I can come with you tomorrow too?” he offered.

Charlotte chucked. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I know spending all day in that theater is not fun.”

Michael shrugged. “Being there for you is fun. I insist.”

“Bu-” she started to say when Michael pulled her into his chest and kissed her on the forehead, cutting her off.

“Get some rest. Night, baby.”

***

“So how are you, Charlie? Really?” Michael’s mom called down the long dining room table as they all enjoyed Easter Sunday dinner.

She was thankful to have a couple days off so she and Michael returned to LA to visit family and escape New York for a bit. Their trip, which had been intended to be an adventure for the pair, had turned into anything but. And there was a safety to returning home, to Michael’s house and to his bed, even if it was only for a long weekend.

Given that her nieces and nephews were all on Spring Break, it was the perfect time to get the families together. So it was the first time her dad, sister and CJ were meeting Michael’s family. The evening had been perfect so far, she decided, both groups blending as if they were destined to be family.

“I’m ok… really,” she emphasized at the skeptical glances from everyone at the table, including her fiance. “He’s been out on bail, hasn’t tried anything. He’ll go to prison and that’ll be the end of it,” she assured them. She would never admit it out loud, particularly not within earshot of Michael, but those words were merely for their benefit. Not even 50% of her mind actually believed it. Shaun proved that he was not above biding his time for as long as it took. She would be a fool to believe his obsession with her was over simply because he got caught. But that was not a truth or fear she was in a place to admit to anyone.

“You’re still havin’ nightmares though…” Michael offered quietly.

Charlotte cut her eyes toward him with a quick glare that most of the table, thankfully, did not see. It silently said “what the fuck?” to which he merely shrugged as if he did not see the problem with detailing her weaknesses to her entire family.

It’s the truth, his eyes seemed to shoot back at her.

“Are you ok?”

“Do you need to increase your therapy sessions?”

Charlotte immediately groaned internally, overwhelmed by the barrage of questions and concerns. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid.

“Guys, guys… calm down. Michael is exaggerating,” she answered with a reassuring and calming smile. “I still have nightmares but they are far less than they were at first. It’s progress, but it’s slow. And it’s just been a few weeks. It’s not like last time,” she promised, her eyes trained on Jackson who was most invested in her recovery, aside from Michael. He called her damn near every day twice a day.

“Well, as long as you feel like you’re getting better.”

“I am, really.”

“You gonna be ok when Michael comes back this way for his movie this summer?”

Charlotte nodded immediately, though she was dreading it inside. However, that was not something she could admit either. “Yea it’s gon-“

“I actually asked them if we could push filming back,” Michael interrupted. “To the fall when Els’ run is over. Just waiting to hear what they say.”

Charlotte glanced up from her plate in surprise, that was the first she had heard of this. “What? When did you do that? Why did you do that?”

“I called my agent and asked her to look into it Thursday before we left New York. Just figured a family emergency and needin’ to be there for you was hard to argue with.”

Charlotte could not stop the confusion and anger that bubbled under the surface at him. She understood the intention behind his gesture but she did not ask him to do that and to be frank, she did not want it. It was not that she wanted to be alone in New York but she also had worked so hard in the last few weeks to stop burdening him, to heal and move forward. But this was the literal opposite of that.

“But the summer is several months away. It’ll hardly be an emergency by then. I’m fine.”

He shrugged. “I disagree.”

“You dis-” she started to say when Jackson interrupted, her sweet but slightly oblivious brother not picking up on the mounting tension between the couple.

“I think it’s a good thing. Not like you don’t need the extra protection, it’s better this way, Charlie.”

“Better for who?” She mumbled under her breath before stabbing her piece of ham with her fork.

“The real question is when are you gonna be free for the bachelorette party?” Jazzmine asked from across the table with a smile. “Lo and I are already starting to plan.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes as everyone smirked. “Nothing crazy, Jazz… please. I don’t know what time I’m gonna have off so we could legit just get the girls together for a fun weekend in New York. Have the wild NYC nights we didn’t get to have back in the old days,” she teased.

Lo’s face lit up as she turned to Jazz. “Oh that would be so much fun. I’ll do some research on restaurants and Jazz, can you find us some lounges that we can go out to? Maybe in like July?”

“You sure you wanna do New York?” Michael asked quietly, pulling Charlotte’s attention away from her girlfriends as they chatted away about her party.

“Yea, it’s lowkey and easy. Inexpensive for everyone to get to and everything. Don’t need a big fuss. Why?”

Michael shifted in his seat uncomfortably, Charlotte could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he thought of the right words to say whatever was on his mind.

“Just don’t think it’s safe for you to be going out to clubs and lounges late like that. You know… least not until after his trial.” His voice was low as to not draw attention to the couple. However, before she could respond, he glanced up at Lauren and Jazz and said, “Plan somethin’ outside the US. My treat, of course. Go wild.”

“God, I love him,” Jazz not-so-quietly muttered under her breath causing the entire table to laugh, except Charlotte. “You sure you wanna marry him, girl? Cause I’ll fight you for him.”

Charlotte forced a light chuckle from her lips before returning to her food, frustration coursing through her body like a roaring river. She was virtually silent as their families interacted for the rest of the night. She barely spoke, only offering one or two words to Michael’s nonstop chatter when they returned to their bedroom to get ready for bed.

She wanted to say something to him but she did not know how, nor was she sure which issue to tackle first because for the first time in their relationship, there were several.

They were still them in the ways that mattered most, still loving and caring and invested in their relationship. But something, or rather several somethings, were simply off track and causing fissures to grow between them. And tonight, she realized that they had gotten too big to ignore any longer.

Originally, she had thought the lack of physical intimacy was their most pressing issue. Gone were the casual touches and sexual playfulness that they developed in their relationship. They had sex one time since their engagement and it was their worst time together by far. Michael spent the entire time checking in and asking her if she was ok or needed him to stop so much so that Charlotte could not even get into the moment or enjoy the experience. As the incident got further in their rearview, she tried to initiate a couple more times but he always found an excuse so finally, she stopped asking altogether.

And that was concerning in and of itself, the crumpling of the one area of their relationship that had always been strong. But dinner proved that they were also having serious communication issues that she had been actively ignoring. It was so unlike Michael to make such a giant career decision without consulting her first, without taking into account her own feelings and opinions about her recovery.

Was she completely healed? Were things perfect? Definitely not. But was she moving in the right direction? Was she doing the best she could? Yes and still, she felt like it was not enough to get her fiance to stop treating her like the broken woman he found in that bathroom, battered, bruised and half dead. Even telling her she could not go out in New York with her friends was so on brand for him at the present moment but so unlike anything she was used to from him. And that had not been the first time. They got invited to parties and events and the like in New York and Michael found excuse after excuse for them not to go. She blamed herself for not being more vocal about wanting to go out and be who they used to be so she put all of her efforts into getting better to prove she could handle it, prove she was still the woman he wanted. However, nothing seemed to work. She wanted to move on with their lives and his mind was firmly stuck on who she was on March 1.

And that made her doubt whether they would. All the things Michael once valued in her, he clearly did not see anymore… why else would he treat her so differently?

“You ok? Want me to make you some tea? Anything hurt?” Michael asked as they got ready for bed.

Their nighttime routine was typically filled with laughter and conversation but tonight, Charlotte was stuck in her own head, wrestling with why her relationship seemed to be falling apart when they were both so clearly trying their hardest to keep it together.

“No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” He sighed, misreading her sour attitude for something else. “I don’t know why you feel the need to pretend like you’re ok with me when you aren’t. It’s just been a few weeks, Els. No one but you expects you to be ok.”

Charlotte’s knuckles could’ve turned white at the way she gripped the edge of their counter in anger. “You know not every negative emotion I feel is about Shaun, right? Like I’m allowed to just be mad and annoyed at you every once in a while?”

Michael’s eyes grew wide. “Mad at me?? What did I do?”

“How about the fact that you made this major decision and didn’t tell me?”

“What major decision??”

Charlotte threw her hands up in the air. “Moving your movie schedule, Michael!”

Michael could tell she was legitimately upset given that she used his first name and not Bakari or another pet name. However, for the life of him, he could not understand the issue.

“That’s not a big deal tho. I just asked them to push back a couple months.”

“That is a big deal! Asking for an entire movie to be rearranged so you can play the fucking overseer.”

“That’s not fair. I was tryin’ to help you.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Help me? Oh and is flashing your wallet around to convince my friends to plan a different party than the one I want helping me too??”

Michael walked out of their bathroom, the two facing off at the foot of the bed.

“You aren’t gonna get fuckin’ mad at me for telling you shit is unsafe. No, you don’t need to be fuckin’ around in the middle of the night drunk in New York while he’s still out there. You can be mad all you want.”

Michael felt no shame or guilt for drawing the line in the sand somewhere. He saw no issue in keeping Charlotte at home. She went to work, they occasionally went to dinner - though he preferred just ordering them take out these days - and that was virtually it. He went to the theater with her almost every day, only leaving around show time and returning with the car to pick her up. It was a sacrifice to be sure. But what did it matter if she was safe and had extra layers of protection?

“If you had your way, I’d never leave our fucking apartment!” She hurled at him. “You wanna help me? Stop treating me like a fragile doll that’ll break if you aren’t around. Stop… stop denying me affection and love and just admit the truth!”

“What truth??”

“You don’t want me anymore!” Charlotte exploded, her own insecurities compounded by her perceptions of her fiancé’s behavior. “You proposed and you regret it and you don’t want me.”

“That’s the farthest thing from the truth in this world, Charlotte.”

She closed the space between them as she shouted. “Then why don’t you touch me like you used to? Why don’t you make love to me or fuck me or literally anything anymore? Our relationship is void of physical intimacy that I know both of us need. So tell me. What other reason could it be other than you can’t get the image of what he did out of your head and I’m not the woman you thought I was o-or want anymore? Tell me!”

Michael’s mouth opened and closed several times, unsure of what exactly to say. He had never seen her so upset, particularly directed at him, over something that was simply not true. However, despite the anger she displayed, something stopped him from telling her the truth. It was foolish to not trust her with his own fears and vulnerabilities but it was unfair to make her healing about him.

“I promise you it’s not because I don’t want you.”

Charlotte stared at him, waiting for something… anything to signal to her what the true reason was. But he gave her nothing.

Charlotte let out a breath that sounded like a cold laugh before nodding and stalking over to her side of the bed to grab her pillow and favorite blanket, one that Michael used often and carried his scent.

“I don’t want promises, Michael. I want you to be honest. And until you are ready to admit whatever has you treating me like a patient instead of your future wire, I’ll be in the guest room.” She paused. “Here and in New York.”

“You shouldn’t sleep alone, Charlotte.”

“I dealt with nightmares before you, Michael and I can deal with them now. If you really want to help me,” she clenched her eyes shut to stop the tears that welled in them, tears that she knew would not help her case. She was just so tired, tired of everyone in her life and in the media and everywhere she turned fawning over her. She just wanted someone to treat her like nothing had changed and she had hoped that would be Michael. But he could not do it either. “Then start treating me like someone you believe is actually capable of healing. Cause right now, all you treat me like is a woman who's too broken to be put back together again. And if that’s all you see when you look at me, we aren’t gonna make it.”

And with that, she raced out of their bedroom and down the hallway toward one of the guest rooms, leaving Michael alone. He felt as if he had whiplash, the argument happening so fast over something he felt was so insignificant, he could not fully understand what to do.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. He swung it open to find his father standing in the hallway, two glasses of scotch in his hands.

“Heard some raised voices. You good, son?”

“Not really,” he muttered as he took the drink out of his dad’s hand and ushered him inside.

“Feel like I’m tryin’ to do right by Els, give her what she needs and she’s actin’ like it’s too much… or not enough of the right thing… or I dunno. We’ve never,” he flopped down on the edge of their bed, his hand rubbing his head. “We’ve never been like this before.”

Michael Sr sat down in the arm chair across from his son. “Well, you ain’t been together long enough to be like much. I think you two were made for each other, don’t get me wrong. But marriage ain’t easy ‘n you two are gonna hit more than a couple rough patches where it seems like it just ain’t workin’. And that’s to be expected given what you both went through. You need to talk.”

“I try to talk to her, pops. Get her to tell me what she's feelin’, how she’s doin’. She just wants to act like everything’s fine when I know it isn’t. I mean, you take care of ma… her health. She doesn’t fault you for being protective. What am I doing wrong right now?”

His father let out a low chuckle before taking a long sip of his drink. “Bold to assume your momma didn’t cuss me out more than once too. I raised you ‘n your brother the way I was raised. To be a provider, protector, fixer. And I did the same thing you’re doin’ when your momma first started havin’ health issues. Constantly checkin’ in, assuming I knew what she needed or how she was feelin’ better than she did. And just doin’ it cause I thought I knew best. And all I was really doin’ is creating resentment.”

“What you mean?”

“I mean… your mom didn’t and still doesn’t want a doctor, she has a doctor. She didn’t need a therapist. She wanted her husband, a safe spot to land ‘n know I was gonna treat her like her when the days were good ‘n jump in ‘n pull the extra weight on the bad days. But that I was still gonna let her be her, not treat her like a sick person who can’t take care of herself. But I felt so outta control as a protector and fixer that I went overboard tryin’ to fix somethin’ that couldn’t be. Took a lot of counseling to get outta that.”

Michael raised his eyebrow in shock. His parents were not of a generation that typically had a positive outlook on therapists and counseling. He also would have never thought their marriage ever required it. His parents’ marriage, in his mind, was the blueprint.

“Really?”

“Yea… I mean it was different than what you kids do now with licensed therapists. But yea, we went to counseling with our pastor ‘n it helped. Helped both of us admit what we needed, helped us find common ground. N now, I protect your mother while respecting her boundaries. I know you. You’re tryin’ to fix something that only Charlotte and time can fix. And if you hold on too tight, try to fix too much cause you’re afraid of losing her, you’re just gonna lose her in a different way. This is your first taste of marriage, son. Shit ain’t easy but it’s worth it.”

His dad stood up and patted him on the shoulder before walking toward the door. However, as he opened it, he stopped and turned.

“Another piece of hard-earned advice?” Michael nodded for him to continue. “You just learned how short life is, how precious every minute is. You don’t go to bed alone or angry ever. You ain’t gotta fix it tonight, you ain’t even gotta talk about it tonight. But don’t let her fall asleep down that hall thinkin’ you don’t wanna fix whatever this is. Understand?”

“Yea I gotchu. Thanks pops.”

“Anytime, son.”

Michael downed the rest of his drink before grabbing his own pillow and walking down the hallway to the guest room he knew Charlotte would be in. The door was not closed all the way so he peeked through the crack for a moment, studying her form which was curled into a tight ball in the middle of the bed. Her light sniffles reached his ears and immediately propelled him forward.

He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she called, her voice broken and small. She forced herself into a seated position, wiping her tear-stained cheeks as she sat up.

They stared at each other expectantly for a few moments before Michael stepped forward.

“I know I’ve been… distant in a lot of ways the last few weeks. And probably overbearing and controlling, which isn’t what I want you to feel. And I’m sorry for that. And if I had the right words to explain why, I would. But I don’t. I don’t know what this feeling is o-or how to describe it to you. And I can assure you it’s not because I don’t want you. I’ll always want you. But I know this isn’t what you need and this isn’t the relationship I want for us. I know you’re already working with your therapist but maybe we can try couple’s counseling? For a couple weeks? Maybe we can get back on track sooner rather than later.”

“Really?” she asked. Michael had never expressed anti-therapist sentiments and supported her journey wholeheartedly but he always said he never considered going himself, never thought he would need one. “I thought about suggesting it for us… after everything. I just figured you wouldn’t be into it.”

Michael meandered over to her side of the bed and sat down, his hand rubbing her leg.

“I’m into whatever you and I need to do to get back on the same page. I love you and I want you and I know I haven’t been myself lately,” he admitted. “But I hear you and I’m willing to figure it out so I can support you how you need me to.”

“Thank you… for that. And I’m sorry for blowing up at you. I just… I just want to be me again. I want us again,” she mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest.

“I know. And we’ll get there. I promise. I’m in it for the long haul, even if we gotta go to so many sessions we fund a beach house for your therapist.”

Charlotte let out a cackling laugh. “I mean I’ve definitely already funded her beach house… maybe a like cabin in the woods next… she loves that type of stuff.” Charlotte rolled her eyes with a chuckle before her face returned to it’s more solemn expression. She stared at him for a few minutes before grabbing her pillow. “Will it completely ruin my street cred next argument if I come back to our room? This bed sucks,” she muttered. It was harder than their bed and more uncomfortable but the reality was, she had no interest in sleeping alone even if she was still upset.

Michael kissed her on the forehead and gestured toward the door. “A very small ding in street cred,” he joked. “But,” he lifted up his own pillow. “I lose some too for coming in here like a lost damn puppy.” He joked, both of them laughing.

“God, we can’t even do one night mad at each other right.”

“I think that’s a good sign,” Michael remarked. “Think that means we’re gonna be just fine.”

“Yea… we will be.”

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A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Drop a comment and let me know what you think and how therapy's gonna go for our favs. This'll be the last update till December!

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