#an insane serial killer upon a breakup

[yuseirra]

Onk 165 spoilers(review)!

Seeing people slapping each other at a funeral is the LAST thing I want to see in any media, not just this one(if it has a proper base, I can take it, but this work just didn't have anyone prepared for this kind of event to unfold) that imagery is seriously haunting me. I really hate it, I hope the artist knows what they're doing, I'm never reading that chapter again, what are they making their readers who cheered for them even read?; I'm.. Just really startled and baffled. They have strengths in terms of constructing emotional experiences, they know what kind of reactions they can invoke through their works, I'm sure. This... Felt too harsh and it wasn't even laid out in a proper way, everything feels so rushed so I don't know what to feel about it. It doesn't even feel tragic, I couldn't even feel sad, I was just baffled and shocked. Seeing a character break down was painful all the same (Kana doesn't deserve this happening to her??)It wasn't a good experience to have. Distraught would be the word. Are they really happy with this? Again, what are they trying to achieve through this? Are they respecting their fans? Does this have a point? I'm genuinely confused. I want to know. I hope the authors are happy about this but I'm not. Who would? I'd have enjoyed this better if all this felt well-constructed.

I honestly still believe the contents of the songs are spoilers, THOSE do better explaining Kamiki's character than what this manga put forth about him after the 154 mark.

Speaking of which, I've mentioned this after 164? 163 was it? How can Aqua do this to Ai's movie? Just what IS the point of having the movie be a huge hit when it's going to be known for a murder incident that's even FABRICATED??? Didn't Ai want her TRUTH to be known? Wasn't the movie supposed to be about HER life and what she wished for? Again, she had her hopes on her boyfriend being saved. And Aqua kills him over it and framed him about having killed a person over the content of Ai's movie. Whatever Kamiki's done, Aqua shouldn't have done that to AI AND HER MOVIE. How- why- does the author think that's a good idea?? This was a movie that was going to be her legacy, right? And even if Ai's lied all her life, isn't THIS the work that she'd wish WOULDN'T BE? The one that'd display her true self, the one that should have gotten her love across to Kamiki? I'm glad the latter did happen but even that's going to be covered by lies all thanks to Aqua. I just can't forgive him for doing that to his mother, how is that for Ai? How?? Did Ai want revenge on Kamiki no matter the cost??? That wasn't it. I feel like this sort of outcome, of her son and boyfriend dying and the story of her life being framed as the trigger of killing themselves over it, would have been the LAST thing Ai would have wanted. Unless they explain the reasoning, the writing is so bad on this one. Aqua managed to make Ai's movie about himself. Couldn't he have found some other way to die if he wanted to do it so much.

The last chapter isn't going to save anything, there are too little pages left.

I've made a lot of theories about Ai and Kamiki being gods and THEY were the ones responsible for the white and black star eyes all along(They have to explain what's up with the eyes and the stars and why they work that way before they go!!!) I actually believe in those theories I've written wholeheartedly because if they're going to get back on the idea of gods, that's like the only way to have it blend in the story altogether. And seeing how the idea of fallen-ness and how "stars dwelling in eyes" were in the anime s2's op, which is not too long ago? I don't think they would have completely dropped that idea? Was it 158? I want to know why Tsukuyomi went about "Love" too. If my theories actually end up being true, then.. Ai and Kamiki are the two characters who were all about love and needed love in order to function properly as gods. That Kamiki was trying to collect "Ai", the fragments of his lover back dwelling within people's eyes after her death in order to reach her again. I really do believe that's the way to go if they want this story to make any sense with it adding up to the song's contents.

So what did Kamiki even do?? They aren't even sure if he is really involved or not because what he did is very minimal, isn't it?? Remember how Airi died when he just told her husband the truth of how she molested him? If we believe him, remember how he wanted to send a bouquet to congratulate Ai for her dome concert and Ryosuke killed her? Remember how Ryosuke pushed Gorou off a cliff when he said he wondered if he should go visit Ai at the hospital? Remember how Yura died when he told her she should watch her steps at a mountain? How he told Nino they should turn themselves in and she went insane to try and go stab Ruby? These are too much to be called as mere coincidences, things don't logically end up becoming this disatrous. Whether if he really wanted things to play out this way or not(and he told Aqua himself that he never wanted to hurt anyone!!) it's not natural. This is why I seriously believe this guy's Sarutahiko the god of guidance and the RIGHT PATHS, that's been given a "fatal flaw" after Ai's death!!! Ai was already worried of Kamiki being afflicted by the darkness of the industry, he just totally broke after the death of his godly wife didn't he??? And now he's been leading people into the wrong paths!!! Because he's a fallen god now! Why else would be the lyrics like that? Then is ANYTHING that's happened HIS fault? I'm not actually sure?? He could have tried utilising his powers to meet Ai again maybe so after that perhaps so?? But what's been happening around this guy's been so weird. It can only be explained through the songs and the mention that THERE REALLY ARE GODS OUT THERE WHO DON'T KNOW THEY'RE ONE, WHICH DIRECTLY CONNECTS WITH THE LYRICS OF MEPHISTO THAT GOES: "I'VE FORGOTTEN WHO I LIVED AS" which I think IS written from his perspective! So there. If this is not the case I REALLY don't know. But they won't explain it right. They have to though.

About ruby...well, she's the amaterasu. I keep saying that... She'll "shine" one way or another. But I hope she could really save someone significant in the story with it.

That's all I can write on the spot for now~

[nayaesworld]

The Cruel Mind of Terry Richmond

Inside the mind of Patient#:022802

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Psycho!Terry x Psychologist!Black reader

Warnings: MDNI!, mentions of mental disorders, manipulative behavior, smut, mentions of murder

Summary: The workings of the human brain had always intrigued you. How no one person ever shared the same brain, each one properly tailored to their needs. Serial killers and psychopaths were no different. Their brain chemicals had mixed into a dangerous cocktail of insanity, intrusive thoughts, and murderous behavior, but lacked in areas where remorse, guilt, and empathy should have been, leaving them to be caged like animals once diagnosed. But these cases interested you and your curiosity about their humanity had led you to urgently sign up to observe and interview the most recent transfer to the ward.

__

—

Psychology had always been your first love. It had been there through breakups and losses alike, and had gotten you through college with a doctorate in psychology. You couldn’t imagine life without your innate curiosity for the inner workings of the human brain, what it meant to be human and how some thoughts turned us into monsters. No one brain was created to respond the same to stimuli, each reaction was perfectly tailored to that person's upbringing and personal experiences, and this created the vast and never ending field of psychology.

You had set your sights on Oak Ridge Behavioral Center exactly a year and a half ago. The facility was a haven for progressive research and development into the rehabilitation of the discarded people of the community. The people that had been deemed ‘unfixable’ and labeled as misfits. Today was your lucky day, a call from the center had shook off any doubts you had about your work. They contacted you. They were interested in your work and what you could do for them.

A quick shower refreshed your mind and body and soothed away the first day jitters. After smoothing a thick body butter on your skin you slid into your black jogger scrub pants and black scrub top. Your white On Cloud sneakers would assist you in being on your feet all day, and you grabbed your Apple Watch and white coat before heading to your car.The dark gray gloominess of the weather outside was a stark difference from the excitement that threatened to bubble out of you.

90’s R&B soothed and serenaded you on your short drive to the facility. Your manicured fingers tapping in rhythm to the loud bass flowing through your speakers. This could be a new beginning for you, something you could tell your family and they’d be proud of you..something you could celebrate and finally give yourself that pat on the back you've always deserved. For all the days you felt like psychology wasn’t your passion anymore, this is what would make it all come full circle.

You arrived early, courtesy of your heavy foot and you sat in your car for a few more minutes. Inhaling and exhaling to shake the nerves from your body. You wanted to go in there and be impressive. These people had sought you out and gotten in contact with you. Your work had made waves and not the ripples you equated it to. It took a big brain to graduate college but an even bigger one was needed to understand someone else’s, that’s why you were here. To show them that your work was good on and off papers.

Out of your head and in front of the doors, you badged into the facility being met with icy cool air that makes you pull your jacket a little closer over your body. You’re greeted by Dr.Leland upon arrival and a smile graces your face. She reaches forward to shake your hand and you’re immediately calmed by the soft firm grip of it—safe and intentional. The middle aged woman's smooth dark skin and warm eyes soothed your nerves, her neat braids pulled back into a high ponytail.

“ So happy to have you here, I know you know me as Dr. Leland, but you can call me Karen. I know we’ve chatted some through zoom and what not, but I’d like to give you a more in depth tour of our facility.”

“Lead the way..I’m excited!”

You were stunned. Nothing could have prepared you for the state- of- the- art facility. The pictures quite literally did it no justice. The different stations inside designed uniquely to cater to a vast variety of different personalities. Large windows and atriums pulled in bright natural lighting giving the facility a healthy lush glow. A garden center where patients could help grow fresh produce and tend to all sorts of flowers and fruit trees. A studio where they could experiment with different beats and produce their own music, a form of music therapy. She took you to the pool room, and ended the tour in the art room.

“Dr.Le- I’m sorry Karen…wow! I mean I don’t know what else to say, you all have clearly dedicated yourselves to this cause. There’s a plethora of great therapy options here, something for everyone.”

“We are dedicated, heavily dedicated…but we also know the extent of what we can offer an individual here at Oak Ridge. And if there’s ever a time where our usual practices don’t seem to be working for someone, we call in people like you.”

You couldn’t lie, your curiosity for this ‘troubled patient’ was beginning to grow. Your eagerness to wonder who it was that Karen Leland couldn’t seem to rehabilitate. But this also broughtl on doubt.. if she couldn’t do it, how could you? Karen was a seasoned psychologist, she had seen it all.. and yet she had gotten in contact and needed your help. You were slightly spooked.

“I’m appreciative Karen I really am.. but I have to ask what am I getting myself into here?”

Her lips pursed and her smile faltered a bit before she motioned for you to follow her to another level of the building. The elevator ride down was short and you tried to hide your initial shock at realizing there was a whole other level beneath where you had just been standing. Patients were being housed and treated down here?

Stepping off of the elevator she badged in and two large steel doors swept open quietly. The lighting was the first thing you noticed. It was yellow-green almost and had been a complete stark difference from the bright airy openness of the front of the building. It was darker, quieter, and as you followed closely behind Karen you noticed the patients seemed drowsy and disoriented. Each room an eggshell white with a large glass cutout in the wall, offering you and other doctors a visual of the patients.

“We’ve chosen to nickname this area of the facility Doomsday..and I’d like to show you why. Every patient on this level has exhibited dangerous life threatening behavior either toward me, other therapists, or the orderlies. This is our last attempt at rehabilitation..and their last chance at a normal life.”

You continued walking alongside her, grasping onto her words trying to get a sense of what kind of patient you’d be faced with. You felt like you had seen enough, you were ready for an introduction.

“So I obviously have to ask..when can I meet him? I’ve taken heed of what you’ve told me but I want to get a general idea about this patient before anything.”

Karen seemed impressed by your approach and the two of you began the trek deeper into the lower level.

__

You weren’t supposed to have expectations of patients, but when you had seen Terry for the first time you couldn’t help your thoughts. He looked like he belonged on the cover of vogue, and had a build like a well paid athlete. He appeared to have been expecting the visit as he stared out at the two of you, clearly aware that a visit was being made today.

“Did he know about today?” Karen nodded before unlocking the iPad and pulling up his profile.

“It was mentioned to him last week before the incident…this meeting was unfortunately supposed to be held on the upper level. I want to brief you really quickly since I’ve got his file pulled up, and then we’ll speak more about last week.”

Her keeping you in the loop about the incident was exactly what you wanted. You had seen so many instances where doctors were thrown into the lion's den with no knowledge of the patient ever being aggressive or volatile. You didn’t want that for yourself, and so far Oak Ridge was alright in your eyes.

The two of you settled into her office and she began to give you the rundown. A rundown that shocked you.

“So we have 33 year old Terry Richmond. He’s born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, is an only child with one parent still living. He had no prior run-ins with police up until a year ago where he was arrested and charged with two counts of first degree murder for the slaying of two ex girlfriends.”

You were stunned, but you did your best to conceal your facial expressions. This was a wild card for sure. But all you had to do was get deeply submerged in as much knowledge about his situation as you could; that is how you would even the playing fields.

“His attorney was able to get him acquitted by reason of insanity, and he was carted off to us exactly ten days after his court date. His diagnosis.. bipolar schizophrenia, he apparently had been living with these thoughts and feelings for the majority of his life but his mother never had him seen. Hence this huge blowup at the age of 32 that cost him his freedom.”

“Never having him seen as a child is a bit odd, were there ever any signs during childhood?” Karen put away the iPad and swiftly stepped from around the desk.

“Are you ready to ask him yourself?”

You held your head up as you began to approach his cell, and you felt confident knowing that you had the skills to thoroughly assess the patient and rehabilitate him. You were let into his room and given a chair to sit in. His bulky form draped in the ivory sweatsuit provided by the facility. His hands and feet were shackled and clamped to a heavy slab of concrete in the middle of the floor, prohibiting him from moving from the chair he was sitting in. You looked back outside the glass and Karen gave you a nod of approval. You could begin.

“Hi Mr.Richmond I’m Dr.Rhode and I’ll be your doctor for the rest of your time here. It’s nice to meet you.” Your introduction seemed to fall on deaf ears as hazel eyes locked onto your face before swishing away in disinterest.

“The system owns me like a dog.. do they own you too? Do they whistle and you come running..trained and ready to obey?“ He scoffed and looked away, hands rubbing against his pants slightly.

“Well no… I’m here to help you. This is all about you Terry. Can I call you that?”

He never answered and instead threw a pointed look your way. You’d instead continue.

“For the duration of my time here I plan to implement tasks and exercises that will help you achieve a level of rehabilitation that will allow you to live a normal life.”

“Sound like the same shit the last one said..and the one before that. Why are you any different..why should I put my care in your hands?”

“And beside.” He continued “What do those little files tell you about me that I can’t tell you myself hmm?” His face morphed into one of annoyance before you could later up and answer.

“Why don’t you try me..tell me everything you want me to know.”

Terry Richmond was an odd man—particular mostly. His life before Oak Ridge had been colorful and full of adventure. But he wasn’t shy on speaking about the urges he had felt his whole life. How he often restricted himself from the public because being around people would trigger that part of himself and he wasn’t sure most times if he would be able to be without an incident.

“You think you can rehabilitate me…put me back out into the public that’s cute. I’ve accepted what I am..now it’s time for you and the rest of these people to do the same.”

“That’s my jo-“ You didn’t complete your sentence before he cut you off, eager to get his point across.

“No, your job is to assess me and interview me. Don’t try to be a hero, it won’t end well for you.”

__

Over the course of four months she interviewed him and he shared details;details so sick that she’d become physically ill after their sessions. He gave her what she wanted, graphic descriptions, recaps and stories of his ‘hunting sessions’ as he liked to call them— the rituals he would do afterwards. A kind of sacred ceremony for him, tying him to the crimes he’d committed and centering him—making him feel righteous in his actions.

“When I was younger I used to mutilate small animals and my mama would say ‘oh that’s just what boys do’…until I turned thirteen and this time I had stabbed my cousin with a steak knife for touching my Xbox. Wasn’t so boyish of me then.”

The tone of voice he spoke of his mother in was..interesting. He loved the woman with everything in him and yet hated her for not seeing the signs early on—hated her for not getting him help. He blamed her for his actions, because in his mind if she’d helped him like a mother was supposed to, he wouldn’t even be in this situation.

“I don’t think what I did was so bad.” He continued “Of course everyone overreacted a tad bit.. is it a crime that I don’t take kindly to betrayal? Is it a crime to expect from others what I give to them?” His fist smacked into his palm a few times before he sat back roughly in his seat; agitation clear on his face.

“You speak about betrayals and over offering yourself to people that were undeserving. Who and what were these betrayals?” You leg crossed over the other as you scribbled neat shortened notes of his accounts.

Some time lapsed before you realized he hadn’t yet answered your question. It was silent..dead silent. He had been given a little more leeway with his shackles and his hands gripped and pulled at his hair before he began to cut into his forearm with his nails. Bright red blood spilling out from the tiny punctures and coloring his honeyed skin.

“Woah woah! Terry if this question is too much for you we can skip it…please do not harm yourself. Take it slow, just breathe.”

The ragged breaths came out rushed before his large frame stilled with smoother air coming from his nostrils. Tears had started to form now threatening to fall and tell the story for him.

“They tried to get over on me..give away what was mines. They said they loved me, that they would marry me and give me children. I was engaged to both of them. At separate times of course ..and they betrayed me by keeping the company of lesser men.”

“Why do you think you had ownership of these women even after you were no longer together?” The question needed to be answered. How and why did this drive him to commit murder.

He rubbed at his reddened nose and he twisted his full lips to the side, regaining his thoughts on the matter.

“Women are emotional beings…if they connect with you emotionally a different sort of bond forms. They feel linked to you, they know and see you better—they begin to love you.”

“And how could I turn that down?” He continued. “That overwhelming feeling of being wanted and worshipped through love. I wasn’t without love in my life..I always had it—but I never twisted it the way I did with them.”

You clung to every word. Absorbing the pain that oddly seeped from his words. He sounded regretful and proud at the same time. A major mind fuck.

“I was never a good man. I was constantly applauded for the bare minimum…validated in all my actions. I still hear their voices sometimes..in here.”He motioned to his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into a soft smile. “They aren’t angry with me.”

“I’m a monster. Monsters don’t deserve rehabilitation, they deserve isolation.”

Their session ended shortly after and his words stayed with you all night. You showered with them. Ate with them. And when sleep didn’t come so easily, you sat at your computer desk reading article after article. Your blue light frames reflecting gory images and the film from his interrogation. The cold steel timbre of his voice as he answered all the detective's questions. Completely unfazed and unapologetic. He hid nothing from them. Told them how he did it, why he did it..didn’t fight when they began to cuff him.

You fell asleep at your desk. The days blending together like a cocktail and seeping into your brain as you rested. The focal point of them all being your patient; Terry Richmond. Why was your brain trying so hard to victimize and protect him? Maybe it was your psychology brain trying to exhaust all options before you addressed him by what he called himself—monster. Who was really at fault here? Who had failed him? Wasn’t it his job to make well thought out decisions that would impact his life for the better? Murder did the exact opposite; and yet somehow you felt sympathetic towards him. This feeling was freeing and it validated your growing feelings toward the man; you could be the pillar that made him sane again.

__

“I heard you got some free time today. You got to get out of here and paint in the art room..did you enjoy yourself ?”

You had spoken to Karen when you first arrived and was happy to hear that he was able to have a little normalcy.

“I’d rather talk to you..you paint a far better picture than I ever could.”

“Well you know we only meet every Wednesday and Thursday Terry but between those days I’ve recommended some enrichment time outside of this room for you.”

“Have you ever thought about how it might feel to not think those thoughts one day? How it might feel to free your mind?”

The questions seemed obvious enough on your end. And the exposure would have done well for his mental health.

“No that’s not something I want to ever entertain …because those thoughts feature you now. You make my stay in this dog pound worth it…even if I doubted your abilities at first.”

Redirect him. “ Did you paint anything you liked, anything you wanna hang up in your room?”

Surprised wouldn’t quite be the way to describe the painting that he was now showing to you. You felt honored and embraced. Who was really broken here? In all your years of study, you never actually had taken the time to turn the mirror around on yourself. You were compromised. And if Karen knew the thoughts that ran through your head day in and day out you’d be fired and shunned by this community. She had entrusted you with this patient, high expectations of your work ethic and integrity to commit yourself to this job—and you were failing. But what Karen didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Reaching into your large tote bag to flicked through the cameras that had been linked to your iPad. In the midst of doing risky shit you needed full coverage of what was going on around you. No one could know about this.

Like he had read your mind you watched his eyes shine with pride and endearment. You had finally come around to him. No more fighting it. No more wasted time.

“Thirty minutes is all we have. I need to be filled to the brim and I need it quickly.”

You popped the bottoms of your blouse and exposed your heaving chest to him. Dark brown areolas peering through your bra at him.

“Come closer. Now..I’m in chains and now you want to come to your senses. Get the fuck over here!” His shackles shook with each word and you crossed the room to get to him in mere seconds. Body filled to the max with a need that burned inside you so fiercely.

This wasn’t about right or wrong. This was about fixing the man in front of you, you knew you could get through to him. Make him a man of the future and not one of his terrifying past. A union that would shape the both of you for the rest of your lives.

Shackles on the floor beneath you both as your hands gripped his shoulders tightly. Nothing in the world could have prepared you for the jolt of emotions that would come over you both as the two of you finally connected. The way he gripped your face as you rode him, nose red and eyes wet with hot tears. Your foreheads collided as you sped up. It felt like only the two of you existed—creating your own universe. Creating your own life.

Your watch signaled to you that only minutes remained of what you would describe as the best time of your life. His dick throbbed and pulsed along with your convulsing pussy. Heavy breathing and spit swapping became the soundtrack to your ears. His heavy hands roaming up and down your back as ropes of his cum entered your willing pussy.

“Tell me you love me…and I promise to do my best to let them treat me. Then me and you—and our baby were going far away from here.” He pressed his hand to your belly sealing the fate of what you both knew as your future.

This plan was the end all be all for the two of you. Something that sounded so crazy and unattainable just months ago was now within arms reach. Keeping your license was important, and getting Karen to integrate Terry back in with the top floor was the key to his freedom. So yeah you would lie and lie again about how he was doing. Anything to feed her what she wanted to hear, her praises amping you up and turning you into a deceiving manipulative woman. You were doing it all for love.

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The coming months hit hard and fast. Your work at Oak Ridge continued through a plethora of other patients Karen believed you could achieve great things with. Hiding your bump was a no brainer. You wanted no one in your business, no coworkers and no family. You missed out on a lot and the distance from your family was hard most days . You couldn’t ask your mother about pregnancy and how she had navigated it three separate times in her lifetime. You attended your appointments alone, only able to update Terry through small spurts of information whenever you were within a few feet of him. The cold winter made it easy to bundle up during your last trimester and shorter work hours were given to you under the guise of ‘spreading yourself too thin between hospitals’.

The two of you were welcoming a Christmas baby. Your due date being on the twenty third of the month; set exactly two weeks after Terry would be released. You sighed briefly to yourself as you watched Terry play it up to Karen. You longed to reach out and touch him, to let him touch you and begin to learn the life that you had grown inside of you for the last eight months. But you were closer to the finish line than you’d ever been; you could taste the freedom. Sadness still managed to creep in when you were alone at home though. Lies flew from your mouth so fast. ‘No mommy I won’t make it to thanksgiving this year, the workload is tough’ the way you’d mute the phone and weep quietly to yourself as you let down your parents yet again. But this was for a greater cause, you and Terry both believed that.

Stranger things had happened to you. But when the Uber stopped outside your home and his broad figure came into your view you knew that this was your destiny. Duffle bag slung over his strong shoulders as a dark brown beanie protected his ears from the bite of the freeze; the two of you were meant to meet.

His knees graced the floor of your foyer immediately as he entered your home. Large gloved hands roaming over your protruding bump and raising the heather grey camisole to kiss where the baby softly kicked. He stood to his feet and craned his neck a bit to meet your plump lips. He was finally home.

“Thank you for this baby..thank you for your patience. I owe you eternal peace.”

“It’s a girl Terry. I wanted to surprise you at birth but you deserve to know…deserve to know that she’ll have the best parts of the both of us.”

Falling into a routine was easy with him. He finished your sentences, cooked and cleaned. He even dealt with the whirlwind of your hormones. Your feet were swollen, your back ached, and babygirl didn’t hold back on getting comfortable in your uterus. But the pain was only temporary and she eagerly slid into this world with three pushes and a loud strong wail. Come Christmas Day she was dressed in a snug reindeer onesie as you sipped hot chocolate and gave Terry his gifts. But the best Christmas gift was the one you carried for nine whole months and nestled close to you.

—

You curbed your family’s appetite to see you in the flesh just three months after you had given birth. Doing your best to hide any indication of childbirth, you had met them at their house and their house only, you cheered,laughed, and enjoyed a hearty Sunday dinner before you scurried back home to Amelia; your four month old bundle of joy. You felt relieved and satisfied after seeing your family and deep down you knew you had truly missed them. All the banter and loudness that made them into everything you loved and everything you knew growing up.

You brushed the shiny black curls of Amelia’s head before you allowed her to latch onto an engorged breast. Her small cheeks puffing and filling with milk as her tiny ocean eyes held yours in an intense match of who loved who more. Your greatest accomplishment. Terry came to get her and lay her down shortly after she fell asleep on your nipple, you took that needed time to pump breast milk and shower away the scent of outside.

Excitement beamed inside of you. The three of you were relocating. Your family believing the lie that you had found a higher paying job in another state; a partial lie if you will. Your whole house was in boxes right now and the two of you had to rent the U-Haul tomorrow to officially pack up and head to greener pastures. Terry's hand around your neck shocked you from your happy thoughts and you turned to him.

“We leave tomorrow.. Milly’s gonna grow up away from here. We’ll have new beginnings; together. Did you ever think our dreams would come true?” His keen focused eyes beamed with live and adoration for you.

“I promised you eternal peace my love..a freedom away from here. Me and Milly will always love you, she’ll always have you in her and that’ll get her a million miles further in life. I love you, you have given me everything I ever wanted; now rest my heart.”

Sharp pain. A swift puncture to your heart, was this heartbreak? What were you feeling? In your shock you watched your shirt stain crimson, your life force leaking slowly from you as the love of your life pushed the dagger deeper into your dying heart. You fell into his arms, gripping his wrist tightly as he tugged the dagger from your heart with a grunt before gently laying you on the living room floor. Your eyes fluttered quickly and your vision blurred with tears of betrayal and fear, your little girl wouldn’t remember you; she’d grow up without you.

But you couldn’t hold on for her. And you tried so hard to, so hard to gather up enough oxygen to even wiggle a finger. But no more fight was left. “Rest my love..it’s as easy as falling asleep.” His low voice laid you to rest and sealed your eyes closed for good.

Your earthly eyes shut and a new pair opened. Death had become you and you were dead. Your body laid sprawled on the floor and your blood trickled slowly from your stab wound. You watched as he sat Amelia next to your dead body. Her chubby hands tugging and pulling at your face before her bottom lip poked out and she began to scream loudly from your still face. Her tiny shrills filled the house and she gripped Terrys coat firmly when he lifted her to his chest. Was it possible for your heart to break in the afterlife?

“Say bye bye to mommy Milly. It’s just you and dada now..just you and me.” He pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks and her toothless grin returned to her face as she attempted to put his nose in her mouth.

Lesson learned the hard way. Red lights were actually red and so were stop signs. And monsters were exactly what they looked like; monsters. Consequences of your actions landed you here, a harsh lesson but a lesson nonetheless. For as long as you could, you would watch your little girl grow up. She’d never see your face again but it was your job to guide her and steer her away from the monsters of this world. You had learned a great enough lesson for the both of you.

—

@chessteena @ch33z3grits @slvt4her @thevelvetwhispers @moebuttta @blackmoonchilee @blyffe @big-button @motheroffeline @prettyinpikk @writingsbytee @bizzle-xoxo @atasteofmir @sleepynoirr @mrsknowitallll @theereinawrites @keehendrixx @chocoflagcutii @tswrldd @dbaileyblog @zunibugsiren @juniperlovesstuff @becauseimswagman1 @slyy-foxx @wherethewildtingsare @my-anime-garden @partypoison00 @cocooned-butterfly @orchidwonder @rawflwrs @23jammy @nikkireeds553 @princesskittendonut @keyaho @kenshisluvrgirl @zillasvilla @ranikyani @ovohanna24 @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @megamindsecretlair @brattyfics @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @thabiddie23

[trumanbluee]

an encounter - matty healy

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

content; you meet a stranger in the bar after your breakup ;)

word count: 3.2k

warnings: somewhat dubious consent (reader is intoxicated), unsafe sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!) dom/sub undertones, degradation, teasing. lmk if i missed anything! <3

a/n: hi !!! this is the first fic i'm ever posting!! eek! i dont know how many people are going to see this but please tell me if you like it!!!

It’s not often she spilt her entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this stranger, with his head of ringlets upon ringlets of messy, dark curls, plush light-pink lips, and deep, chocolate brown eyes, was particularly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It made her want to give him everything, and absentmindedly, in her alcohol-riddled mind, she’d thought he would be a good scammer, or serial killer, whichever he prefers really. 

But it's not entirely his fault; she’s stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit her system ten-fold. 

She’s there because she’d broken up with her boyfriend the night before. They’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and she let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 

Wrong. He’d been cheating on her since he went to Australia — four months, now — with a pretty little Sheila that he wanted to marry.

She was furious when he told her, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but she began seeing all the differences between her and the woman he cheated on her with: she, a perfect homemaker, her, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 

“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” The soft english voice of the man across the bar cut through the buzz of her hazy, drunken brain, bringing her back to reality. “Cause he’s a right dickhead. For cheating on you like that.”

The man had entered the bar hours after she did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the soccer game on the TV above the bar, before she’d drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant her dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here she was now.  

She peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but she can’t tell if she actually thinks that, or her foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail her into next week. 

No matter, she thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of her throat sweetly, fire trailing down her insides. “M’not beating myself up,” she protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 

He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as is she.

“Well,” he inched closer, large hand setting itself on her thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 

This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with her: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from her face, later he swiped a drop of her Sex On The Beach off her lip, then he’d clutched her by the waist, pulling her close to him when someone squeezed past her in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in her ear. 

Then, there’s a gap in her memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt she’d donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in her ear was too much for her dizzy head, and the only thing she remembers is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and the next, she’s pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee knocking her quivering legs apart. 

They’re trading wet, sloppy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up her shirt till they reach her chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching her breasts needily.

He’s kneading her softly, fingers pawing at her flesh like he’d never felt something so soft, so plump. Her back arches as he does this; she’s practically putty in his hands. 

It doesn’t slip past her that she’s being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom she doesn’t know the name of, but she doesn't care. “Please,” she begs, his name coming up completely blank on her tongue, “please.”

“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, hot breath against her ear as one of his hands moves from her breasts up to her jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to her neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”

She’s too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so she whines instead of answering, her weak fingers carding through his dark curls. 

“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”

His words make her cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes her core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to her problems all night telling her she’s just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got her all hot and bothered. 

“Please,” she begs again, more desperate than before, “I need you.”

The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 

He had noticed how her legs clenched around his knee, how her breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how her fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 

She bit her lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed her by the waist and turned her to press her face against the wall. 

One of his arms then draped across her shoulders, pinning her down and arching her back, hard, making her ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. She let out a small gasp at the feeling, and she could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face

He can’t be that big, right? It was just her drunk mind, making him feel bigger than she thought through his shorts. Plus, she hadn’t been fucked in over a month — she was probably just not used to it. . 

Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something.

 However, these days, she’d learned that she didn't have the best intuition. First, with her boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, head straining to look at him behind her. Unconsciously, she shyly closed her legs at the sight of him. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between her legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”

Completely flush against each other, she could feel his hard length resting between her legs. Just that, just him between her, already had her trembling in anticipation.

“Then fuck me already,” she bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, she was thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, her, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when her boyfriend made his routine visit. She was a loyal girl, alright, and her fingers never went as deep as any cock could.

But the moment for her to reveal her worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.”

Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of her ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on her cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom.

Her breath caught in her throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and she flushed. Thank god she was pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to her burning face.

He’d spanked her, and she’d fucking moaned.

“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of her panties.

“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against her, her folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

He slowly slid in and out against her folds, his cock just barely grazing her clit, and she swore she could have screamed. The way he was teasing her was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous.

“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing light circles on the skin of her hip.

She let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” she squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked her tight hole.

“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into her.

“I came here to…” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ground her thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“

Then, the loudest keen she’d ever heard tore out of her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into her soaking cunt.

He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching her knees buckle and mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on her ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 

“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking her like that.

But the way he insulted, complimented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had her shuddering; never in her life did she think such dirty words could make her so wet.

She barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout her body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how her walls squeezed around his cock had her barely coherent, face taut with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for her to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into her, and another helpless groan rolled off her tongue.

“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing her against the wall shifted, now covering her mouth.

Before she could protest, he slid out, then snapped into her. Immediately, she saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past her lips.

“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little pussy’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast she could barely comprehend the ecstasy she was feeling.

“Oh my god,” she barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of her relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for her moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into her sweet cunt.

Then, the two heard the bathroom door open, and she froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and planting her on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on her mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from her throat: this new position of her on his lap had his long length pressed right against her cervix.

“Now you really gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered, pressing his face into her neck. She shut her eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting her mouth.

“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on her shoulder, laying his head on her back.

The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into her, his large hands coming to rest on her hips and help her slide up and down on his cock.

Her eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” she said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving her mouth, but she was completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure she felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on.

“Shh,” was all she saw him say, as she strained her neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.

Without his hand to muffle her groans, she muffled them herself, biting down on her tongue. One hand of hers gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep her balance, and her other hand sneakily travelled down to her wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at her clit.

He noticed this, however, hand gripping at her wrist and pulling her back to pin her arm behind her. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”

She let out a shaky exhale at his words, but she found her cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of her skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did she really get more turned on by what he’d said?

Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside the one the two of them occupied, exited the bathroom entirely, and she belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked her up and pressed her against the wall once more, this time facing him.

He plunged his big cock into her like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into her hips she swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into her, not even a fucking meteor. 

She, on the other hand, was arching, the pleasure taking her body over completely. Her hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into her. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time.

Her tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like she was made with his fat length in mind, and it drove her up the fucking wall: the pain in her hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and her orgasm began to spill out from under her. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.

“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Her cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like she was afraid he’d never come back to her.

She nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of  words.

He grinned, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into her. Her toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past her slick folds.

One of his hands lifted off her hip and trailed across her lower stomach, “Can you feel that, baby? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge.

Both were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and her a feverish mewl. She couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on her from the outside.

Suddenly, she remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before she had dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put her drinks on his tab, under the name Matty.

Her face grew taut, her orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across her face. “Matty! Matty, please,” she moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on her tongue.

“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged her through her orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of her throbbing core. 

It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within her insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout her entire body like she wasn’t already being fucked relentlessly.

“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning in to rest his head against her chest. She was weak, sensitively riding out her high, but she knew Matty wasn’t quite as close.

His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling her walls against every inch of him. Her head rested beside his own, eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation.

Despite her orgasm, her cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both her skirt and his pants. It made her tremble, thinking of them both tiredly exiting the bathroom, dishevelled and having to cover the other up.

At this point, she didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting her mouth, with Matty’s grunts and groans covering up her whines completely.

“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”

“You do! Matty does!” She exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of her quicker and more jolted. “Matty owns this pussy!”

Matty grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within her. He clenched his jaw, brown eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of her cunt squeezing him for every drop.

You was so fucking full, and even when Matty pulled his softening cock out of her — which, was still huge despite its idleness — she felt stuffed to the brim.

His come dripped down her leg, and he promptly pulled her panties up, patting her worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good baby.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to her neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”

“Told you so.” She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking her to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within her own, clasping tightly. She didn’t really mean round two - though, she wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking her - she actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead her.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through her cheekily, pulling her close to him.

So, she did go home with him, and in the morning she laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, studying the beauty of his face whilst he slept. After that, they made frequent visits to that pub, specifically to the final stall on the left in the mens bathroom.

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[greensparty]

This Month in History - December

Here are just some of the pop culture anniversaries I am raising a glass to this month:

Dec. 2, 1988: The Naked Gun opens

In December 1988, the first of three cop movie spoofs was released. From the LOL team of David Zucker / Jim Abrahams / Jerry Zucker, they revived Frank Drebin (Leslie Nielsen) from their 1982 cult series Police Squad! As a big fan of ZAZ, I took to the Naked Gun series immediately! It is still insanely funny today. Happy 30th Naked Gun!

Dec. 5, 1973: Band on the Run released

In Dec. 1973, the third album from Wings and the fifth album Paul McCartney released since The Beatles’ 1970 breakup was released. It is considered by many to be Sir Paul’s best non-Beatle album and among the best of the Beatle solo albums, up there with John Lennon’s Imagine and George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass. Happy 45th Band on the Run!

Dec. 6, 2013: Inside Llewyn Davis opens

The Coen brothers’ love-it-or-hate-it movie about a folk singer in 1960s NYC was released in Dec. 2013. While it got critical acclaim, a lot of audiences just didn’t get it. To which I say: Look closer! It’s ironic that F. Murray Abraham in the film says “I don’t see a lot of money here” upon hearing Lewyn Davis perform. I named this my #5 Movie of 2013! Happy 5 Inside Llewyn Davis!

Dec. 11, 1998: Rushmore / A Simple Plan open

In Dec. 1998 two of my favorite films of that year were released.

Wes Anderson’s second feature film Rushmore was a highly quoteable tale of quirky teen Max Fischer and the friendship he forms with jaded millionaire Herman Bloom (Bill Murray) and how that changes when they are both competing for the same woman (Olivia Williams). As much as I love Anderson’s other films, I named it my #1 Wes Anderson Movie. Also a killer soundtrack filled with 60s gems. 

Sam Raimi was already established for his genre work, especially the Evil Dead trilogy, but when he adapted Scott B. Smith’s 1993 novel, it was a thriller filled with Shakespearean turns and really showed how skilled Raimi is with actors. It raised a lot of questions too about how far will you go for money and will it be worth it in the end. I named it my #2 Sam Raimi Movie! Happy 20th Rushmore and A Simple Plan!

Dec. 14, 1988: I’m Gonna Git You Sucka! opens

Keenan Ivory Wayans’ wacky 70s action parody was released in Dec. 1988. Wayans, a rising comedian, wrote/directed/ and starred in this love letter / parody of 70s blaxpoloitation movies, but he actually cast so many of the genre stars. It is a truly LOL comedy. I actually saw this as a kid, right around the time Wayans’ TV show In Living Color was a hit and it wasn’t until years later that I became familiar with the movies it was spoofing. Happy 30 Sucka!

Dec. 15, 1978: Superman opens

In Dec. 1978, one of the great super hero movies of all time was released. Superman has always been an iconic super hero, but prior to 1978 he had only appeared in serials and the underrated 1951 Superman and the Mole Men for movies. Richard Donner made one of the great origin stories, where we see Kal-El on Krypton sent to Earth by his father (Marlon Brando), being adapted by his Earth parents in Smallville, and his secret identity of Clark Kent (Christopher Reeve) in Metropolis. Since this, there have been several Superman movies, but they are all bowing at the altar of of this one. Happy 40th Superman!

Dec. 15, 1993: Schindler’s List opens

In Dec. 1993, Steven Spielberg’s historical biopic about Oskar Schindler was released. A few years back in an interview Spielberg was asked what his favorite film he directed was and he said E.T. and Schindler’s List. As much as I love many of his other films, I can’t argue with his choices. I saw Schindler’s List in the movie theater and you could literally hear a pin drop. Just try to not cry by the end of this. It is one of the most powerful films ever made, hands down. Happy 25 Schindler’s List.

Dec. 17, 1993: The State premieres

One of the great sketch comedy shows of the 90s (and of all time for that matter) premiered on MTV in Dec. 1993. The sketch comedy group The State formed at NYU a few years earlier and garnered enough of a following to get a show on MTV, who were getting into comedy shows in the early 90s (i.e. The Ben Stiller Show, The Jon Stewart Show, etc). I loved this show in high school and my friends and I quoted it frequently. The show lasted until July 1995 (I have the entire series on DVD). The cast members have gone onto greatness in film and TV, including Michael Showalter who directed my #1 Movie of 2017 The Big Sick. Happy 25 The State!

Dec. 17, 2008: The Wrestler opens

One of the great sports movies of all time was released in Dec. 2008. Mickey Rourke swung it out of the park as an aging wrestler way past his prime in what was easily Darren Aronofsky’s best movie (and that’s saying something!). I named it my #1 Movie of 2008. Happy 10 Wrestler!

Dec. 18, 2013: Her opens

Spike Jonze’s best movie (and that is saying something) was released in Dec. 2013. I named it my #1 Movie of 2013. It was a film that had so much to say about both relationships and humans’ connection to technology. Happy 5 Her!