#like I don’t think I’ll use the info for anything

[fluentmoviequoter]

Father's Faults

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: Tim is distracted by his memories of his father, so you find an unprecedented way to keep him focused. After he lashes out at you for overstepping, he realizes that you understand and have your own memories to battle. Rather than bonding over that, you accept what's been between you since you first met.

Warnings: discussion of child abuse, domestic violence, Tim and r have a lot of childhood and job-related trauma, angst to fluff, confessions and kisses

Word Count: 3.8k+ words

A/N: @nevereclipse inspired this with magnificent ideas about Tim and a traumatized reader. I hope you like it!!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

There’s a scuff in the dashboard of Tim’s shop. It’s been there for as long as you can remember, but there’s something different about it today. Tracing the ragged scrape marks with your eyes, you try to come up with a story about how it got there or an explanation for its appearance. Anything other than acknowledging the tense silence in the car or your partner's tight grip on the steering wheel.

“7-Adam-100,” dispatch radios, “there’s an active home invasion in your area.”

“7-Adam-100 responding,” Tim replies, dropping the radio after he finishes.

You don’t speak, opting to look out the window as Tim drives to the address with the blue lights spinning. Part of you feels like you should know what’s bothering Tim, but he’s not exactly easy to read, nor is he willing to admit that something is going on. So, until - or if - you can deduce what’s making him so distant and easily angered this week, you’ll give him the room and the quiet he clearly desires.

“Side gate is open,” Tim says as he parks beside the neighbor’s house. “We’ll use it for entry, split up and clear the house. I’ll go right.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, opening your door.

As you follow Tim through the gate and duck under windows lining the side of the house, you focus on the job. Tim’s back muscles are tense beneath his uniform, and if you aren’t careful, you’ll think about him and let your guard down. Entering the broken back door, you tap Tim’s shoulder before you turn left into a small dining area. With your gun raised, you move quickly but carefully through the room. A crash sounds down the hall, so you press your back to the wall and move toward the noise, keeping your steps light and breathing quiet.

Tim exits a door behind you, and you drop your gun as soon as you realize it’s him. Moving together, you prepare to enter the room where the intruder is shouting demands.

“On three,” Tim whispers, covering the door so you can enter. “One. Two. Three.”

He pushes the door open, stepping into the doorway as you move inside. 

“LAPD!” you announce. “Put your hands up!”

The large man - whose boot likely matches the shoe print on the back door - bares his teeth at you before he turns to the woman guarding her son. They’re both sporting bruises and a wound at the woman’s hairline drips blood down her cheek.

“Let me see your hands!” you demand, stepping toward the man.

Tim doesn’t move, his eyes bouncing between the suspect and the young boy cowering behind his mother.

“It’s my house,” the man says.

“Not anymore,” the woman interjects. “We have a restraining order.”

With his jaw clenched, Tim lowers his gun and steps forward. “Last chance. You walk out with us or you can keep being a coward and we’ll drag you out.”

The man sneers, turning toward Tim as he prepares to lunge. You holster your weapon quickly, pulling your taser out instead. Pointing it at the larger man’s chest, you shake your head.

“Is that your son?” you ask. “Do you really want him to remember you like this?”

He hesitates, then swings. Tim ducks out of his reach at the last second, and you depress the trigger on the taser, sending 1,500-volt pulses through his body as he folds in on himself and collapses.

Tim steps over the man’s leg to cuff him, and you set your taser down to approach the man’s son and his ex-wife. The boy clings to his mother but looks up at your shield with a small smile.

“We’re Code 4, need an RA at this location,” Tim alerts. “One in custody.”

“This card has my number on it,” you say, offering a large cardstock square to the woman before you. “There’s also a list of numbers on the back that can help support you during this time. The domestic violence hotline can give you information about keeping your address private and hopefully preventing something like this in the future.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “He just showed up out of nowhere.”

You pull a tissue off a nearby table and offer it to her, watching her son as she presses it to her bleeding forehead. The ambulance is only a few minutes away, but you kneel to check on the boy.

“Let’s go,” Tim murmurs, hauling the abusive father to his feet.

“I need an ambulance!” he moans. “She tased me.”

“You will be seen, but you’re trespassing.”

“I can’t walk,” he argues.

“Then I’ll drag you,” Tim snaps.

The man stands then, his head hanging toward his chest as he pulls his feet rather than taking normal steps. You notice that Tim has his hand on the handcuffs rather than the suspect’s arm. Tim's past, you remember. Tim has been in this situation before, he knows precisely what this mother and child are thinking, and that’s why he reacted like he did. There has to be more to it, though.

Tim is thinking about something and he endangers himself every time the thought surfaces.

“Bradford is all yours,” Angela says, shaking her head as she exits Wade’s office. “I know he’s going through some stuff, but how do you deal with him when he’s like this?”

“What’s he going through?” you ask, looking through the glass door.

“It’s almost the anniversary of his dad’s death,” she explains. “I understand being a little touchy, but-”

“We took a domestic call this morning,” you complain, pressing your thumb and forefingers against your eyes. “I didn’t realize the date. I should have told him to let someone else handle it.”

“He’s a cop, he can handle the job,” Angela assures you. She looks at Tim and sighs. “I just… none of us can get through to him. It’s like he’s holding himself hostage in his own memories.”

“I- I’ll see what I can do,” you offer.

“Don’t beat yourself up if he won’t talk. And don’t take anything he says this week personally.”

“You ready?” Tim asks, exiting Wade’s office.

“Yeah,” you answer, nodding to Angela as you follow Tim back to the shop. If he’s thinking about his dad too much, maybe you can give him something else to consider.

The corner store is silent as you walk down the center aisle. At midnight, the building is empty, the radio is off, and the cashier sits silently at the register, earbuds in as she stares at her phone. You should find the silence enjoyable after being yelled at by Tim four times in one night. Instead, it makes you uncomfortable, desperate for something to happen.

“Aha,” you murmur when you find the small selection of cleaning products.

It’s probably a bad idea, you think while you fill the small, handheld shopping basket with various items. You tried to get Tim’s mind off his dad, and their strained past, but none of your attempts were successful. He thought about you long enough to yell, accuse you of overstepping, and make vague threats to discourage you from attempting to make small talk with him. But even then, he retreated into his mind as soon as you agreed and fell quiet again.

“Uh,” the cashier mumbles when you place the basket on the counter. “Is this… you good?”

You look at the odd collection of items ranging from candy and a Dodgers sweatshirt to twine and a spray bottle, smiling. “Yeah.”

“Whatever you say.”

Tim glances at your bag as you place it on the floorboard of the shop but doesn’t say anything. You’ll let him reach his own conclusions about its contents for now. After double-checking with Angela this morning, you learned that there are two days until the actual anniversary of Tom Bradford’s death, and you plan to help Tim through the next forty-eight hours, no matter what it takes.

Now that you've been reminded of the date, it’s clear that Tim is thinking about his father. His tight jaw, distant stare, defiant act of threatening an abusive father, and how he stands at least a foot away from everyone, even if it’s someone he knows and trusts, it's all indicative of his trauma response. Thinking back to yesterday, you remember that he stiffened when you touched his back during calls, and it all begins to make sense.

Tim has a tell, you discover. When he’s thinking about his past, his nostrils flare. You will never admit to watching him that closely, especially not to someone like Angela or Nell, who are convinced you’re in love with him. Yet, you observed him enough yesterday afternoon and during roll call to confirm your suspicion. Even as you watch him now, his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, and his nostrils flare quickly.

“What’s your opinion on stop and frisk?” you inquire.

His hand relaxes as he furrows his brows and asks, “As a policing technique or in general?”

“Policing.”

“So, Terry stops. I think that if there’s reasonable suspicion and no bias it is a useful and protective tactic.”

“Interesting. How can you tell if there’s bias, though? And what makes suspicion reasonable?”

“What are you doing?” Tim asks.

“I’m making conversation, getting opinions, learning,” you list dramatically. “Is that so bad?”

“When we’re in this shop, we’re partners. I’m not your personal podcast.”

“That would actually be really nice,” you reply. “Anyone ever told you your voice is soothing?”

“Stop.”

“It’s just a question!”

“Stop.”

You lift your hands in surrender and turn into your seat properly again. Tim drives through a green light, sees a father walking his son into a playground, and the look returns. You sigh and pull your bag open.

“What was that?!” Tim exclaims, swerving slightly as his right hand raises to his face.

“It’s water,” you answer, shaking the spray bottle. “I need you focused. I can’t worry about you or we’ll both get killed.”

“Focused? I am your superior!” Tim argues as he wipes his hand on his pants.

“Then work with me,” you plead.

“What makes you think I’m unfocused?” he inquires.

“You’re thinking about other things. Just… keep your mind in this shop today, and I won’t spray you again.”

“If you like this job you won’t spray me again,” Tim amends.

“If that’s what you need to hear.”

“She bought Wesley a tie with lobsters on it,” Angela tells Nyla.

“My dad has a tie with fish,” Lucy says. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You called?” you interrupt as you follow Tim to the detectives' desks.

“Yeah, we need you to run down a lead,” Nyla answers. “Unless you’d rather hear about Lucy’s dad’s ugly ties.”

“Hey, I chose some of those ties! Father’s Day is coming up if you want to know where I got them,” she offers.

“Oh, I already bought James a gift,” Nyla answers with faux disappointment.

“What lead?” Tim asks.

Standing behind Tim with one hand behind your back, you spray him without anyone noticing. He turns his head toward you, his eyes warning you to stop. You smile, nodding along with Nyla’s explanation.

“I am not a cat,” Tim whispers as you exit the station.

“Then take the hint,” you reply softly.

Nyla’s lead was indeed helpful, and you deliver a new suspect to the station before you return to patrol. In the shop, you hold the spray bottle in your lap as Tim drives. When you move your fingers toward the top, Tim slams on the brakes and snatches it out of your hand.

“You don’t get to decide what I think about!” he exclaims. “If you’re so worried that I can’t do this job right now, then get out and go back to the station.”

“Tim, that’s not what-”

“It is not your business,” he continues. Loudly. You flinch, but he's too mad to notice. “It is not your place to be my therapist and tell me to only think about good things or to stay in the moment. Whatever it is you think is on my mind is not worth this!”

You take several breaths, watching Tim’s chest heave.

“I know it’s almost the anniversary,” you say, forcing your voice to stay level as you press your palms against your thighs. “Your dad… he clearly got to you, your childhood affects you. And that’s okay. I’m not saying to forget everything or let those experiences become meaningless.”

“Then let it go.”

You look down at your hands as Tim drops the spray bottle beside your feet and begins driving again.

“I’m sorry,” you offer after several minutes. “It was affecting you, and I thought giving you something else to think about would help.”

“Not your call,” Tim grumbles.

Nodding, you locate the scuff on the dashboard, staring at it until your vision blurs. 

“How’d that mark get there?” you whisper.

“What?” Tim asks, glancing toward you. “I don’t know.”

“There were marks on my mom’s dash, too,” you say. “Nobody knew how they got there. Nothing we would admit while my dad was around, anyway.”

Tim’s eyes find you again, his gaze different. But you’re still looking at the scratched plastic.

“It was like a switch was flipped,” you confess. “One day, he was at a recital, cheering on his baby. And the next… there were marks on the dashboards and new scars that- that I didn’t ask for. So, I have an idea of how painful the memories can be, how far and how fast they can drag you under until it feels like you’re drowning. I went about it wrong, and I can see that now, so I’m sorry. But my intentions are still the same. I don’t want to sit by while a memory of being hurt keeps hurting you.”

Tim doesn’t reply as he shifts his eyes back to the road. You don’t watch him during the remainder of your shift to know if his nostrils flare or if his breathing returns to normal after his outburst. What you do know is that if Tim is willing to let himself be controlled by memories, you can’t stay close enough to watch it happen.

Scrolling through your notifications as you exit the station, you let your body run on autopilot as you make your way home. You’re nearly across the parking lot when someone says your name. You stop and look up, surprised to see Tim’s full attention on you.

“Lopez thinks you were flirting with me,” Tim says, leaning against the tailgate of his truck.

“When?” you ask. There are several feet between you, and you’d prefer to keep it that way.

“Well, she says it pretty often, but the spray bottle. She noticed that my back was wet, saw it in the shop, put it together.”

You nod, holding your phone with both hands so you don’t fidget and expose how uncomfortable you are.

“Could we talk?” Tim asks.

“Not if it’s about me flirting with you,” you reply lightly.

Tim’s lips quirk up. “No. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you flirt, and that wasn’t it.”

“Then, what do you want to talk about?”

“What I’m not supposed to think about.” Tim slides his hands into his front pockets and shrugs. “I should talk to someone, not just retreat into who I used to be, dissect what could have been different. I just thought… If I’m going to talk, I need to tell someone I trust. Someone who understands.”

“And that’s me? Last I heard, I was overstepping and needed to let it go.”

Tim nods, stepping back toward his driver’s door.

“But,” you call after him, “if you’ve changed your mind, we can talk.”

Tim’s house is warm, comfortable, manly, and everything you expected. Yet, it’s awkward as you lower onto his couch and watch him move in his kitchen. It’s oddly domestic, but the connection between you and Tim is hanging on by a thread. 

“I’m not mad at you,” Tim says suddenly. With his hands spread on the counter, he watches you. “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I… my mind feels like my archenemy some days, and I fight that battle alone. You tried to help, and I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

“No one knows the mess we’re in,” you agree. “The voices in my head say I’m being paranoid, but I know it will pull me under someday if I let it. You don’t have to apologize, Tim. I get it.”

“I don’t know what hurts worse, letting go or remembering,” Tim adds, walking to the couch with two glasses. He sets one in front of you, then sits beside you. There’s not as much distance between you now, but the vulnerability makes it feel like you’re exposed face-to-face.

“You were right,” Tim admits. “I’ve been thinking about what happened when I was a kid, wondering where everything went wrong, trying to identify something I could have done differently. Now that he’s gone, I guess I’ll never know.”

“Tim,” you breathe out, your heart breaking for him. “That was not your fault. None of it was because of you.”

“You’ve never wondered?”

“I didn’t say that.” You lift your glass, holding it between your hands to look down at it. “I used to lay awake at night trying to figure out what part of me was so broken that someone would do that to me. Especially someone I loved and who was supposed to love me.”

“But it’s not our fault,” Tim repeats. “It’s theirs.”

“And we can’t save everyone.”

“We shouldn’t have had to save anyone. Not even ourselves. I think back now, and I don’t remember my dad ever hitting my mom. He was verbally abusive, threatened to go farther, exhausted her emotionally and mentally. I tried to stay between him and Genny.”

“From what I’ve heard, you protected Genny from more than the bruises,” you offer. “You’re an incredible person, Tim.”

Tim smiles, turning his head toward you as his elbows rest on his thighs. “Was that flirting?”

“You’ll know when I’m flirting, Bradford,” you answer with a smile.

“When I was deployed, there were a couple guys whose wives divorced them,” Tim begins. “I found myself wondering why my mom didn’t do that. My dad would disappear for a week or so here and there. She could have left, but she didn’t.”

“I think moms try to fix everything in the only way they know how. If my mom even knew, she never showed it. But, I wondered the same thing. 20/20 hindsight, I guess.”

Tim empties his glass, then says, “Thank you.”

“For what?” you inquire, setting your cup beside his.

“The stuff in my locker? No one else would have put it there.”

You duck your chin to hide your smile. “It’s what I wanted when I was stuck in this cycle as a kid. I had panic attacks for a while. Music, something comfortable to wear, something rough to hold and ground myself with, and snacks I wouldn’t get otherwise felt like an escape to a world where I was safe, different.”

“I saw a therapist who told me to find ‘a portal to a better world’ when my PTSD was at its worst,” Tim says, leaning back against the couch, his hand falling toward you. “I was reliving memories that were killing me, and couldn’t figure out how to stop the bloodshed long enough to discover Narnia.”

“Narnia?” you repeat. “I didn’t realize you were a man of taste.”

“Next time, you won’t try to distract me with sports.”

“No. Although, I’d prefer a world where there isn’t a next time.”

“That’s a world we’d have to make.”

You lock eyes with Tim, shifting closer to him as the soft hum of his air conditioner fills the room.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, brushing your fingers against Tim’s.

“Would it sound like I was flirting if I said I am now?” he questions, leaning toward you as he smiles.

“Maybe,” you admit. “But would that be such a bad thing?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Me neither. After all, you trust me and I understand.”

Tim rolls his eyes at your teasing, and when you inhale, preparing to continue, he raises his right hand to your face, holding your jaw. You silence, watching Tim’s eyes.

“I don’t…” he begins. “I don’t want to be crutches.”

“Tim,” you breathe. “We’re not showing each other our scars to learn how to support each other. I’m telling you who I am because you make me better. You help me see who I am now, not who I force myself to see in the mirror. You aren’t my salvation, but I think you could be something.”

“I’ve lived in fear for most of my adult life that I couldn’t love someone, that I could tell them the truth about everything, about me. With you… telling the truth is as easy as breathing.”

“Breathing before, after, or during a panic attack?” you clarify.

“Why are we even having this conversation?” Tim jokes, shrugging. “You’ve been flirting with me for years, you clearly want me.”

“Then I guess it’s up to you,” you reply. “We’re at the edge, Tim. It’s your call. Are we going over the edge or running back to safety?”

“Tell me something about yourself,” Tim requests, pushing your hair over your shoulder.

You hum, dragging your fingers along his forearm. “I thought I was undesirable until I was, like, mid-20s.”

“What changed?” 

You shrug. “Put on the uniform, met a few badge bunnies, I don’t know. I still feel it sometimes.”

“With me?”

“No,” you whisper. “But I think you see more than my face. Your turn.”

Tim licks his lips as he thinks. “You know all my secrets now.”

“Then tell me something that isn’t a secret.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to fall in love after Isabel. Not until a few years ago.”

“You had a girlfriend?”

Tim laughs. “What else changed a few years ago?”

You trace your own life back one year, then two, then… “Oh. Me?”

“Oh. You,” Tim repeats. “I was also called Reaper in the Army.”

“That’s so much cooler than falling in love with me. How’d you get that name?”

Tim’s lips are mere inches from you as he asks, “Is that really what you want to focus on right now?”

“Promise you know we’re not crutches?” you request.

Tim takes your hand and says, “I know. You’re clearly more of a walker.”

You huff, but Tim closes the distance - finally - and kisses you slowly. With his hand on your face, your hands joined, and your knees against his thigh, you forget everything except Tim Bradford and the future you want with him.

He pulls back first, searching your eyes before you drop your chin and kiss a scar on his neck. Tim takes a shaky breath as you sit back on your socked feet. You’d felt so out of place when you first arrived, and now you’re not sure you want to leave the comfort and seclusion of Tim’s home and his arms.

“You know we’re not going to be allowed to ride together anymore, right?” Tim asks.

“Yeah. Now we can do so much more,” you reply.

“Such a flirt,” Tim murmurs.

“I’m here for you,” you remind him. “No matter when, no matter what.”

Tim smiles as he pulls you closer. “Prove it.”

[susansontag]

I read recently (this is all already public btw but I won’t use any info that could be identifying) about a woman with contamination ocd (but her contamination was sort of abstract, in practice she was washing a lot etc but things felt ‘contaminated�� by distrust, broken promises etc), and she was effectively confined to two safe spaces: the driver seat of her car and her room. she lived with her boyfriend of a few years. obviously her life was very reduced, she felt so immobilised that she couldn’t even really shower or eat food other people had prepared and struggled to do laundry etc. she was depressed.

on christmas day her boyfriend played a ‘prank’ on her, giving her a few presents. they were rubbish that he’d fished out of their bin and wrapped in christmas paper (it’s like a horror story…). she said this triggered her immensely, she felt scared and confused and a huge lack of trust had entered the relationship. he’d also moved things around in their (her? idk) room in a way she had no control over, so she felt the bedroom was no longer safe and she started living out of her car.

she wrote that she knew her ocd made her irrational, her boyfriend had probably just been trying to use tough love to ‘snap her out of it’, and she wasn’t sure she had a right to feel as bad about it as she did. she revealed he had done things like this often, deliberately dirtying things and presenting her with things that felt unsafe, despite her being at the time severely ill. I was interested in how other people would respond to this situation, because while ocd is a disorder, there are qualified professionals who help treat people in this sort of reduced state, and it’s a crisis situation that cannot be ‘fixed’ by someone’s partner praying a cruel ‘prank’, however irrational and ‘crazy’ the person’s behaviour may seem to them. for her it felt like a life or death situation, but she thought maybe she could be in the wrong (she had chosen to break up with him once he’d played this prank and ‘contaminated’ the bedroom (I remind you here that feelings of distrust and lack of safety in relationships were directly linked to her feeling that things were dirtied)).

they told her to call a women’s refuge where she could live for a while, so she could not sleep in her car, and that it sounded like her boyfriend had been abusing her for months when she was having a mental health crisis. I was relieved when others reacted to this situation with the amount of horror I was feeling! it made me wonder about how vulnerable women with mental illnesses like ocd can be to this form of intimate partner abuse, because they understandably view their reactions as heightened, irrational, and therefore suspect they must be in the wrong for feeling afraid. no partner that loves someone would ever try and ‘help’ them like that, period…

I will try and turn reblogs off for this btw, but if it doesn’t work please don’t share it. I have not shared anything this person did not share herself publicly, but I still feel a bit mm even about posting it here, I’ll probably delete it later. I wish I could post something only for my mutuals or followers. but I’ve been thinking about this the past few days, what a nightmare story that I’d never even considered before…

[creativeimagination206]

A Goes Wrong Show Poll!

Recently, I showed both my parents and my best friend many/all of the Goes Wrong Show episodes (plus Christmas Carol and Peter Pan), and they all had sort of different responses to what they enjoyed about the show.

So, I decided I’d come to Tumblr and ask fandom opinion on why (if at all) you enjoy the show, and what generation you’re from!

Since amounts of options are limited and you can only put in one poll per post, if you could indicate which option you picked and what generation you’re from, that would be greatly appreciated!! I’m really just curious about what type of comedy hits with people.

Forgive me for the format of the poll, it’s prolly the most clunky way of doing it, but I really wasn’t sure how else to do it.

[icterid-rubus]

Successfully fended off The Group Chat on a THIRD platform.

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in it, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[classyrbf]

THAT D!CK IS A 10/10! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...an analysis on the jjk men’s dicks just because hehe :)

INFO...jjk men x gn!reader, we’re talking about cock and balls a lot (no seriously), cum analysis, where they like to cum, heavy detail (be warned), im trying to make this a little realistic so no, gojo will not have a 12 inch dick (sorry not sorry), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

here’s a little something while I’m being a busy bee and dealing with life (help me)

GOJO

to start off, gojo isn’t too big or isn’t small either, if anything he’s just perfect (cause he is perfect duh). He’s around 3 inches soft and 6.6 inches hard. Listen, as much as I want to make this man have the hugest dick ever, he does not and it’d cause an extreme amount of pain every time he is pounding you. He’s not too girthy either, just the average 4.3. His also slightly curves upward which is perfect for hitting your sweet spot. But he’s super sensitive on the tip! So if you tease him too much there he might just cum prematurely. His balls are definitely a decent size too, they may be on the bigger side a little but he loves to have his balls played with so have fun! When gojo cums, he cums a lot! It literally will go all over the place if he can’t control it correctly. It’s spurts out in waves and it sometimes it’s like torture cause it makes his orgasms last longer but god does it feel so good. His cum is sort of thin and runny instead of thick and goopy with a slight salty taste.

NANAMI

i personally feel like nanami is fucking packing girth wise! He is slightly smaller than gojo around like 5.75-6 inches but he is fucking girthy! It’s like a damn weapon and it’s heavy (I’ll help you carry it around nanami, don’t you worry). His girth is around 5.5-6 inches and it’s veiny! Lord help us all because he knows how to use that thing, hitting all the right angles. From being so girthy his cock slightly hangs…So what comes with a fat cock? Big breeder balls! Duh! His balls are so fat and big it’s like an instinct to suck and lick on them. He leaks a lot of precum when he’s hard so it just drips from his cock until he cums so hard. Speaking of cum, unlike gojo he has more of a thicker consistency, and instead of spurting out all over, it just flows from his cock and it’s looks so pretty like a fountain. It drips all down his cock and balls and onto his hand if he’s jerking himself off. When he’s fucking you, he definitely cums inside and just fucks his cum into you over and over until he makes a big mess.

TOJI

my man, my man, my man! Toji is definitely bigger than nanami and gojo but only by like 1-2 inches. So he’s around 7 inches which is still scary bc why are just walking around with that? He’s definitely girthy too but not like nanami, he’s more girthy around the tip of his cock and it gets slightly smaller towards the base but it’s not a huge difference. He’s tip gets really pink and red when he’s hard that it almost looks painful (don’t worry baby I’m on my way to help) but I promise he’s fine. Dare I say that doesn’t trim that often???? I feel like he has a slightly bush, nothing too crazy but it’s kind of grown out. He doesn’t care (me neither) as long as he gets laid he’s fine. His balls are mix of nanami and gojos but they hang! So when he’s fucking you they definitely slap against your skin. When toji cums it’s pretty normal, it’s sometimes shoots out a little bit and then slows down after, but it’s definitely a good amount of cum that does come out quickly. He loves to see your face or your chest covered in it because he’s a pervy little bastard for sure.

GETO

pretty boy geto hehe…let’s just say that thing curves to the left okay? He’s around 6.5-7 inches and girthy so let’s pray for everyone’s holes cause I don’t think we are making it out alive. He’s somewhere between nanami’s and Toji’s girth so…do what you will with that info. His dick is so pretty though, a pretty dick for a pretty face, the curtains match the drapes yk? He has two prominent veins that run on the underside of his dick where he’s really sensitive. If you look closely you’ll see them pulsing when he’s hard. His tip is also a very pretty pink color while his shaft and base are slightly darker than his skin tone. His balls aren’t too big either so it’s definitely more about his dick. He doesn’t cum a lot either surprisingly, he’s never been the cum everywhere and get super messy type of person but if hasnt had sex or jerked off it’ll be more than usual.

CHOSO

choso is closer to nanamis size, maybe a little smaller but not a huge difference. His is pretty average but there is nothing wrong with that (can I get free ride???). Just like geto he also has a very pink tip and his shaft is the same color as his skin. His girth is around Gojo’s but he has some big balls that are just asking to licked and sucked fr. Baby boy gets so whiny when he’s hard and leaking that he’s almost embarrassed by it, he tries to control it but he literally can’t stop getting so hard to point it drives him insane. His cum is stringy and thick, like the perfect consistency for cumming on your face, chest, ass, literally anywhere. He cums a normal amount, usually spurts out super quickly and then slows down towards the end of his orgasm.

SUKUNA

where do I even begin??? Clearly, this mf is the biggest out of all of them. He’s scary asf because he has two, yes, two dicks that are practically identical. 8-9 inches long, 4.7 girth. End my life. THIS MF GOT 4 LEGS. It’s actually cruel. They’re thicker towards the base and gradually get narrow towards the tip. So at first, the stretch doesn’t seem that bad until you realize you got about 7 inches more to go…yeah. His cocks are darker than the rest of his body and his tips are sort of like a light pink/tan color. The only difference between his cocks is that one is super veiny and the other quite literally has like 3 veins. Fat breeder balls that hang, swing, touch the floor (I’m jk) but literally the mix of toji and nanamis balls. They hold so much cum, he can literally go round for round back to back and fill up every hole of yours without taking a break. And he cums so much that it’s actually concerning. Like nanami, its overflows maybe once in a while it will shoot out.

HIGURUMA

believe it or not I think this man is packing at least 7-8 inches. It may not look like it but I think he does! He never brags about it either so it’s really hard to guess. When he’s hard his dick touches his belly button…and his balls are somewhere between Geto’s and Gojo’s size so they’re kinda average. The color is slightly tan maybe like one shade darker and he has a pale pink tip. Did I mention he has a fat tip?? It seems like it gets even bigger when he’s hard, all swollen and everything. His girth is pretty average too like Gojo’s maybe slightly bigger like 4.5 but that’s it. Higuruma doesn’t cum that much it like toji where it’s a pretty normal amount. His cum isn’t super white either, it’s kind of on the clear side and super stringy which is perfect for cumming on your tongue imo

[checkeredflagggs]

A Perfect Storm

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: meet dr. alice “barbie” sargaent, professional storm chaser

a/n: so twisters 2024 changed my life (glen powell in wet white T-shirt changed my life) so…here’s this. Also I got conflicting info about instagram so for here - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also plz suspend your disbelief - idk anything about storm chasing or tornadoes

Part 2

drbarbie

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,345,239 others

drbarbie: tbt to the very first storm I ‘chased’ and the lifelong obsession that it sparked within me!

view all comments

user1: you were so young!

teammember1: nice to know you’ve been crazy for years! 😂❤️

drbarbie: Passionate! The term is passionate 🩵

teammember2: no I think crazy is better

user2: ok but what are Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri doing in the likes…

user3: right?

user4: maybe they watch the Storm Wrangler YouTube channel?

user3: that would be the crossover of the century!

teammate3: awwww baby Dr. Barbie…

drbarbie: I think I made my dad drive around for hours trying to find where the rain was actually coming down

user4: ok that’s adorable

user5: newbie here 👋🏻 why the nickname Barbie?

drbarbie: I’m a 5’11” blonde woman with blue eyes who was in like every conceivable sport and after school program. Some butt starting calling me Barbie as a joke and now people forget my real name 😅

user6: wait your name isn’t actually Barbie? What’s real? What’s fake? Who knows? 🤣

drbarbie: yeah you can blame my twin for that…

loganpriv: you begged for weeks to get a cool nickname and were delighted! To tell people to call you Barbie.

alicepriv: shush 🤐

oscarpriv: oh really?

alicepriv: I said shut up?

user7: you have a twin?!

drbarbie: yup! I’m older then him by about 5 minutes - and I’ve never let him forget it 😂

loganpriv: and another lie! What’s up with that?

alicepriv: I’m gonna tell mom you’re bullying me!

loganpriv: do it! And I’ll tell her you’re lying to the internet

logansargeant

liked by alicepriv, oscarpiastri, and 1,023,677 others

logansargeant: traveling means time to catch up with TheStormWranglers

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user8: you’re a buckaroo too?! Love this!

oscarpiastri: watching the back episodes or the live stream?

logansargeant: back episodes first of course!

user9: ok but they’re both buckaroos too

user10: am i dumb? Buckaroos?

user11: kinda a you had to be there moment - during one of their first live streams teammate2 called everyone on the team buckaroos to get them moving and the fans just? kinda adopted the term for ourselves

user10: ohhhh ok. That makes sense and it’s so cute! Proud to be a buckaroo!

user12: this is gonna be your week Logan!

user13: yeah! Austin has always been really good to you! 🩵

alicepriv: so I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…

loganpriv: what does that mean?

oscarpriv: Alice…

drbarbie

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 3,677,345 others

drbarbie: isn’t she a beaut! One of the biggest this year and I’m very happy to say Dolly (and us!) survived it!!! The opportunity to quite literally drive into the storm started as a fever dream from a few of the team members but we proved that it could be done. And this now allows us to gather even more important data — and as we always say, you can never have too much data!

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user14: Watching that almost gave me a heart attack oh my god

user15: i know! And they didn’t even give us any warning that it was something they could do!!!😡😢

drbarbie: We apologize! The team had been so excited and focused on getting Dolly ready for this that we forgot other people don’t live in our brains

user14: what even prompted this?

drbarbie: we were hitting bumps in the research process and as we were brainstorming ideas on how to fix it someone said that the easiest way was to…just go into the tornado. We said “bet” then figured out a way to allow us to do that safely!

teammember1: so I’m switching vehicles. I’m staying with the weather van from now on

drbarbie: oh it wasn’t that bad!

teammember1: I have about 200 new strands of grey hairs and a sore throat from all the screaming

drbarbie: like I said! Not that bad

user16: oh so you’re crazy crazy

drbarbie: we’re doing important research!

user17: what even was the point of all this?

drbarbie: my team and I are researching for a way that would allow us to stop a tornado in its tracks. We’re at the point where we can almost completely accurately predict when and where a tornado will hit — which is hugely important! Cause that allows us to save lives. But my team wants to take it a step further — to stop the storms when they do hit! To help protect people’s livelihoods

user17: holy shit! That’s huge!

user18: I didn’t even realize that is something that could be possible!

drbarbie: we believe strongly that it’s something that can be done. And we’re trying everything that we can to make it happen!

loganpriv: what the hell is this?!?

alicepriv: i told you you wouldn’t like it

oscarpriv: yes but there’s a huge difference between not liking it and it being completely INSANE

alicepriv: the theory was sound

loganpriv: this time - that’s not good enough

INCOMING CALL

ACCEPT OR DECLINE

ACCEPT

TRANSCRIPT

What the hell Alice? Driving into a tornado?

Oh don’t even Logan! Not when the two of you drive those super speed death traps!

That’s not even remotely the same and you know it!

…I know. Ok I know…

Alice…

Don’t. I know I should have told you before but…

Barbs?

I know you don’t like this answer but the theory was sound. We reached out and talked to like 10 different universities on the best way to modify the car and took all the extra precautions we could. The science-

doesn’t lie…

Haha

…you’re ok?

I think my heart is still racing but yes. And it’s almost done!

What is?

Project Aeolus!

Really?

TRANSCRIPT CONTINUES

logansargeant

liked by alicepriv, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 627,933 others

logansargeant: ahhhh Austin, my home away from home. It’s always good to come back to you — and the people that live there 🩵

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user19: IS THAT A GIRL LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT?

user20: are we soft launching now?

alexalbon: Did you get a puppy?

logansargeant: no 🤣 just pet sitting for the day! This is rascal!

alexalbon: i think it might be criminal if you don’t let me meet rascal!

logansargeant: I’ll ask! But it will probably have to be after COTA!

alexalbon: worth the wait!

user21: rascal? Like drbarbie’s newest puppy?

user22: no but that dog looks just like her new dog and we know that Logan is a buckaroo!

user21: I've connected the two dots

user23: You didn't connect shit

user22: I've connected them

user24: are my 2 fandoms colliding?

alicepriv: rascal!

loganpriv: i see how it is. I come back home and you just want me to watch the little nightmare

alicepriv: rascal is perfectly well behaved! You’re just a bad example

oscarpriv: I’m agreeing with her. We’ve had no problems with him until you came along…

loganpriv: lies and slander. Objection

alicepriv: law and order again logie?

williamsracing

liked by drbarbie, logansargeant, alexalbon, and 4,034,838 others

williamsracing: all smiles here at COTA as we welcome a special guest! Spending the weekend with us is Dr. Barbie, a meteorologist who specializes in tornadoes with a popular YouTube channel The Storm Wranglers!

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user25: DR BARBIE IN THE HOUSE!

user26: this is everything I didn’t know I needed holy crap

drbarbie: it’s always a pleasure to visit COTA! And it’s even better to visit one of my favorite teams!

williamsracing: so glad to have you here!

user27: ok but do you see the look on Logan’s face?

user28: yeah mans in love

user29: or…and hear me out…he could just be happy to meet her? We know he’s a fan of her channel

user28: no one is ever THAT happy to just “meet” a YouTuber, no matter how famous

logansargeant: Glad you could make time in your schedule to visit!

drbarbie: “But it's the Grand Prix!”

logansargeant: “Is it? Who's playing?”

drbarbie: “No one's playing. It's the Grand Prix. I never miss the Grand Prix.”

user28:…ok maybe you guys connected the dots

alexalbon: it was nice to meet you! Didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who had a more dangerous job then race driving though

drbarbie: same! It was such a pleasure — and don’t even. I’ll take my job over yours any day

alexalbon: really? You’d rather drive after and into tornados then drive in circles?

drbarbie: stupid circles! And yes. Yes I would

alexalbon: they’re not stupid!

user29: ok but they’re funny af

drbarbie

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 2,654,887 others

tagged: williamsracing, logansargeant, alexalbon

yourusername: trading in Dolly this weekend for some faster cars! Zoom zoom 🏎️💨

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user30: COTA! I’m at COTA! 🤞🤞 I might get to meet her and get her signature!

user31: oh my god! That would be the coolest thing ever

user32: you’re at a Grand Prix and meeting some stupid blonde is better?

user31: watch yourself! Dr Barbie is about 1000x better then you are you damn mouth breather

user30: mouth breather? 😂😂

user33: cool you’re at COTA but sargeant? You couldn’t pick literally any other driver to support?

drbarbie: and that’s you blocked. I don’t support hate on my page and I definitely don’t support hate against Logan

user31: you said it so well! Supportive queen!

loganpriv: cool your jets Alice. It’s fine

alicepriv: I don’t support hate but I do support bullying your unsupportive twin. Take that attitude and shove it

oscarpriv: sometimes I forget you’re twins and then I see you interact…

alicepriv: you watch yourself too. I’m soon to be in head smacking range…and I’m tall enough to get you

oscarpriv: yes ma'am

loganpriv: whipped

alicepriv: 🤨

loganpriv: 🤷🏼‍♂️

alicepriv: 🖕🏻

user34: ok but why Dolly?

drbarbie: why after the fabulous Dolly Parton of course

user35: you named your truck after Dolly Parton?

drbarbie: she’s had a lot of work done but she’s still the best

user35: 😂😂 icon behavior

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, drbarbie, alicepriv, and 1,208,943 others

tagged: drbarbie, williamsracing

logansargeant: THANK YOU AUSTIN!! P3 baby! AND SPECIEAL THANKS TO MY YOUNGER TWIN SISTER ALICE drbarbie!!!

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user36: SISTER?

drbarbie: yes! He’s my YOUNGER twin brother!

logansargeant: the hell I am!

drbarbie: I HAVE PICTURE OF THE BIRTH CERTIFICATES YOU WET NOODLE

logansargeant: fake!

user36: ok that’s definitely a sibling relationship 😂

drbarbie: HE DID IT! P3!! CONGRATS LOGIE!

teammate1: woohoo! Go baby sargeant!

teammate2: congrats baby sargeant!

teammate3: could you feel us cheering for you baby sargeant?

teammate4: couldn’t be prouder baby sargeant!

logansargeant: not you guys too…

oscarpiastri: congrats man! A well deserved podium!

logansargeant: thanks brother!

user37: brother?!? dots are connecting again!

user38: oh give it up

alexalbon: great race today dude! Congrats!

logansargeant: thank you! You’ll be next!

williamsracing: Congrats Logan!

user39: he saw us shipping him with his sister and said hell no 😂😂

user40: right? Most definitely had to set the record straight!

danielricciardo: good job man!

charles_leclerc: great to share the podium with you!

maxverstappen1: good race!

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, alicepriv, landonorris, and 2,567,432 others

tagged: mclaren, landonorris

oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted today but we’ll come back stronger next week. Congrats on p4 landonorris and congrats to logansargeant on your first podium!

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user41: don’t worry about it Oscar! You’ll get it next week!

landonorris: thanks man! next week will be our week for sure!! papaya rules!

oscarpiastri: for sure! Papaya rules!

user42: it might not have been your week but that overtake lap 12 was INSANE

user43: right? Pretty sure I woke my dog up screaming

alicepriv: it was a good race babe. Glad to have been there to see it 🧡🧡

oscarpriv: you know I always love it when you can come to a race

alicepriv: and you know I always love watching you working for your dream

oscarpriv: 🧡

loganpriv: cheesy

alicepriv: 🖕🏻

alicepriv: anyway…

alicepriv: maybe I can get you to come to my job next? 😆😘

oscarpriv: your job at the universities? Yes. Your job in the field? No way in hell

logansargeant: great race brother! Taking notes on that overtake man

oscarpiastri: thanks Logan!

oscarpiastri

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tagged: drbarbie

oscarpiastri: you are the best thing that’s ever been mine

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Part 2

[bunni-v1]

Requesting for a scenario with my best boys Lighter and Harumasa(feel free to add more if you want)<3 where reader tries to Kabedon them to try to fluster them!!

I feel like it’d work with Harumasa but Lighter will only be slightly flustered before somehow turning it around and it ends up with him pinning us somehow

Kabedon…

🍓I’m gonna be so fr, I hate Kabedon. That shit makes me cringe so incredibly hard UNLESS it’s like ur getting scolded or smth. Then it’s super fuckinf hot. I’ll give these a try though, it’s too classic to pass up on lol. These are short.

Tw: None

Info: Lighter x Reader; Harumasa x Reader; Fluff; Headcannons

Lighter Lorenz

-I’m gonna hold your hand gently and tell you this, but good luck doing this to him.

-It’s not like he’d hurt you or anything, but Lighter is big. He’s big and tall and very very hard to catch off guard. You’d have to conspire to get this done.

-Lucky you Burnice lives for causing chaos. It was probably her idea, honestly. The idea of Lighter all flustered as you pin him to the wall was too funny for her to pass up!

-With the right distractions and timing, you can easily press Lighter up against the wall with a big smirk. One arm next to his head, the other pressed against his cheek.

-You honestly didn’t expect much of a reaction out of him, but the tips of his ears turn a bright cherry red. He’s positively adorable!

-Unfortunately, you don’t have a plan after that. So you and Lighter are stood there staring at each other, faces getting incredibly hot the longer you’re pressed against him. (You can hear Burnice giggling in the background, but it’s hard to pay attention to when you have the hottest guy in blazewood under you.)

-Eventually he clears his throat and gives you this halfhearted smirk, trying to play it cool like you hadn’t just defeated him in one fell swoop.

-“Aren’t you bold?” He’ll purr, a little shaky, “If you wanted to hold me close, all you had to do was ask.”

-Ah, he was smooth.

Asaba Harumasa

-I’d argue that Harumasa is a pretty tough person to fluster, at least outwardly. He’s got a solid foundation and plenty of confidence in himself, so word play and flirting just doesn’t work on him. (Not with the silver tongue of his, at least.)

-If you wanted to see Harumasa flush, you’d have to do something more extreme. Something that he couldn’t easily flip the script around on you with.

-Obviously you picked the Kabedon. It’s a classic, and even if it doesn’t work, Harumasa would take it in stride anyway. That’s just the kind of guy he was, after all.

-You wait until he’s already resting near a wall, not wanting to take him by too much surprise. He was still a trained agent, if you spooked him too much he might just throw you across the room.

-He sees you coming from a mile away, of course, but humors you because he thinks you’re cute when you’re scheming. He does not, however, expect you to press him up against the wall with a victorious smirk.

-It certainly does fluster him, for all of five seconds, then he’s smiling that award winning smile and pressing his face closer to yours. “Aren’t you confident? Did you really think this would work on me?”

-He won’t tell you, but it definitely does work. A little too well if he’s honest, his heart rate skyrocketed so high he’s surprised he didn’t keel over and die right there.

-You’ll pout at him, foiled yet again by his cool demeanor. It’s really a shame that you have no idea how much of an effect you’ve got on that heart of his. You’re way too cute for your own good, don’t you know?

[cameronspecial]

Helping rafe to use a fleshlight🫦

Helping Hand

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and Sex Toys

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

A/N: I did research for this and an info video for a fleshlight had me giggling. Like, tell me why it has erectile dysfunction aid.

Masterlist

Rafe wasn’t a prude. He liked to fuck just as much as the next guy; however, before Y/N, he had never used sex toys. His arrogance made him think that only guys who couldn’t get it up would use them. 

She, on the other hand, loves the tools that can help heighten the pleasure for both of them. So she has been working toward getting him to bring the toys into their sex lives. It began with having him watch her use a vibrator. She used it to stimulate her clit, but when it came to penetration, Rafe stopped her and brought her to her release himself. The next step was being able to use a dildo to penetrate herself. It took everything in him not to take it out of her and throw it out the window. As she used the imitation dick, he got turned on by the sight. Maybe, letting her use the toys wasn’t so bad. 

Rafe’s upcoming business trip has her scanning an adult toy website she can use while she is away. Her eyes land on a particular object and it catches her interest. This could be the perfect next step in her plan. 

———

The night before his trip, he is folding clothes to pack. She tip-toes into the room in her purple silk nightgown that he leaves and her hands are behind her back. Déjà vu comes over him. He is familiar with this view. He rests the pants in the suitcase with a sigh, “What am I going to watch you fuck now? Is it one of those full dummy things? Please tell me it’s not that, they freak me out.” She giggles with a shake of her head. Her hair falls over her shoulders as she does. “Nope. Actually… it’s something for you,” she confesses, raising her hands to reveal the toy. His eyes narrow at the object. 

It’s a black cone-shaped object. One end is rounded and the other is flatter with a bump as well as a red scoop-shaped thing attached to it. “What is that?” he questions. She steps forward with a bashful smile, spinning it around so he can clearly see the end with the scoop. “This is a fleshlight. One of the best on the market, Baby.” She hands it over to him so he can inspect it. He identifies the bump as an imposter labia and clit. In between, folds is a hole and looking inside of it shows tiny bumps. He moves on to the red scoop, which also has the same bumpy surface as the inside. “It’s a fleshlight,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck to place a kiss on his lips to butter him up. His eyes widen and he throws it onto the bed. “No, no way. I’m not using that.” She pouts and plays at the hair at the base of his neck. “Aww, come on. I bought it just for you, with my own money. Are you telling me you aren’t going to use my gift to you, Baby?” she whines. She looks up at him through her eyelashes and bats them in the way she knows gets him to do anything for her. 

His bottom lip nestles between his teeth and he surrenders. “Fine. I’ll try it out.” She jumps up with small claps of her hand, “Yay! I promise you’ll love it. It will make phone sex so much better.” He doesn’t say anything and just strips down. He settles onto the bed with his back against the headboard. His head tilts to the corner of the bed across from him and she hops on. She rests her feet under her bum, spreading her legs so he can see her pantie-less pussy. “I wanna watch you use it.” 

He obeys. His hand grabs the toy and he spits into his hand to help with the friction. After he rubs the saliva over his shaft, he replaces his hand with the toy. The silicone feels strange against him, unlike the warmth and wetness he is used to. It doesn’t feel pleasant, yet it doesn’t feel amazing either. He pumps himself a few times while staring right at her. He quickly gives up and throws the toy to the side. “There I tried it and I don’t like it. So, can you come here to take care of this,” he whines. She plays along, crawling over to him and throwing her legs over his hips. When he reaches down to line himself up, she leans over to his bedside table and pulls something out. She straightens up and shows him the bottle of lube and a remote control. “That’s because I was hiding one final piece of the puzzle.” She pours the liquid on his length, cupping it to spread it all over. Then, she guides the fleshlight onto him. He moans at the re-entry. She reaches between them and places his balls onto the red silicone.

She shifts so she is straddling one of his thighs and presses a button on the remote. It begins to vibrate. The intensity near his balls and tip has him thrusting slowly upward. She smirks at the motion. This is working. His eyes flick to her vagina and she begins to ride his thigh. Her moans add to his enjoyment and he doesn’t bother to hide his anymore. His hips speed up, causing her to giggle. “If you think this is good, wait until you feel what happens when I press this button,” she teases. Her finger hovers over it before applying pressure. The trinket works on its own to suck him into its grasp and the bristles brush against him. “Oh,” he lets out, grabbing onto her waist to give him something to do. She lets him help her move, “See, you like this.” 

The muscles in the Adonis belt spasm and she knows what that means. She presses the button three more times, speeding up the pace of the toy. His thumb falls to her bud and he circles it at the same speed. She collapses onto him with her forehead against his shoulder as they are both brought over the edge. They both pant in silence while they come down from their highs. She leans back to look at him with a grin, “So, what do you think?” 

“I think that maybe it doesn’t hurt to have a helping hand.”

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Eighteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, period sex, brief mention of cannibalism/maggots[All possible tags listed, all may not apply] warning: suicidal ideation

Info: Anakinnnn your misogyny is showing, he’s insanely manipulative like so much more than normal[diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread.MDNI 18+

September 16th 4:00ish am

Anakin returned from the shower quickly, his dark hair being ruffled up with his towel as he walked into the bedroom where you waited for him, tucked in on your side of the bed with the tv still playing softly in the background.

“Ready to talk?” Anakin gave you a lopsided smile, crawling up on the bed and joining you under the covers. He leaned back against the headboard and pulled you close, up under his arm.

“Ready.” You nodded quietly, unsure of where this conversation was headed and if you even wanted to find out.

“You look a little green around the gills sweetheart, you okay?” He asked, petting your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m okay Ani, I’m just… anxious I guess.” You said softly, trying to reassure him with a small smile but only making him worry more by your reaction.

“Hey, don’t stress.” He said, kissing the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. “It’s nothing scary.”

“Look, I know I should’ve told you this a long time ago.” He whispered, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. “I love you and I promise I’ll understand if you get upset after hearing this. You’ve every right to punch me in the face.”

“I’m not gonna punch you in the face.” You breathed a little laugh.

“That’s yet to be decided.” He sighed, squeezing you against his chest with his free arm. “So, you remember how my mom was all odd about stuff when you met her?”

“I wouldn’t say she was ‘odd’ about stuff.” You shook your head and opened your mouth to speak again, but you were interrupted.

“She was much more odd when she called me over for a side bar.” He chuckled, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your face up by your chin. “She was pissed off that I hadn’t told you that I take a few daily meds.

“Anakin! What if something had happened and I didn’t know, you could-“

“I’m not a closet diabetic or anything, it’s nothing too serious, I won’t die without it.” He stopped you by rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Cute that you thought of that though.”

“It’s cute that I worried my boyfriend could’ve died?” You huffed.

“From my point of view yeah.” He smiled, his dimple making an appearance.

“Back to the seriousness though, princess.” He said softly. “I take a mood stabilizer, I ran out and I have to go see my doctor to get the prescription refilled. I’ll have to start seeing them every month again.” He sighed, almost wincing in preparation for your response.

“That’s it?” You asked with eyebrows in a low confused swoop. “That’s what you’re worried I’d punch you in the face for? Anakin that’s not even worth a flick to the forehead.” You snorted.

“You’re not mad?” He asked, surprised.

“I’m annoyed, irritated.” You admitted, pulling your lips into a sideways frown. “You could’ve just told me. I wouldn’t have judged you for it. That’s silly.”

“You’re not mad, like at all?” He repeated himself as though he expected this to be an argument.

“No I’m not mad.” You shook your head. “Disappointed that you didn’t think you could tell me… yes.”

“Oh sweetheart it’s not that I-“ he groaned, pressing his hands over his eyes. “I wish I would’ve told you to begin with. It’s just that I’ve had some negative reactions before and I guess I wanted to make sure you were in it for the long haul… you know?”

“I just didn’t expect that I’d be having to tell you because I’ve been a fucking asshole.” He said apologetically. “I think that’s why I’m so surprised. Baby, I’ve not been myself but I promise I’ll be right back to where I should be after my appointment okay?”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You asked, trying to offer him support.

“What? Why would you want to-“

“Because you’re my boyfriend and I care about you?” You said a bit more sharply than intended, your hand on his chest.

“I… well,” he swallowed as though he were more nervous now than he was to begin with. “It’s just that I’ll have to you know; talk about stuff with my doctor.”

“Mhm, yeah that’s what you do at a doctors appointment.” You nodded with a smirk.

“Smartass.” He huffed. “Anyway, I suppose you’re owed at least that aren’t you? After not having known about it.”

“Anakin that’s ridiculous you don’t ‘owe’ me anything because of this.” You laughed tiredly. “If you don’t want me to go I won’t, I just wanted to offer support.

“You’re an Angel you know that?” He grinned, pulling you into his chest and wiggling around until he was laying on his back with your head tucked under his chin. “You can come with me. If you don’t mind sitting in the waiting room.”

“Are you kidding? I love waiting rooms, seven year old magazines, weird little old lady asleep in the corner, secretary who plays solitaire instead of working…” You grinned.

“Man you’re making me wanna trade places.” He clicked his tongue with a chuckle.

“So, what’s your diagnosis?” You asked after a silent moment, changing the subject back to the serious side of the topic.

“What?” He stiffened, shifting to look over at you, his chin tucked against his shoulder.

“Well you’re on a mood stabilizer, what’s your diagnosis? It’s not a big deal, my sister’s husband has bipolar.” You shrugged, noticing the way his energy grew colder.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your b-“ he started, stopping to breathe through his nose. “Sorry.”

“I just hate labeling stuff like that you know? There’s such a stigma around mental health. It’s a chemical imbalance in my brain, not a fucking mind controlling parasite or something scary like that.” He grumbled, lips in a thin line while he clenched his teeth.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset or-“

“I’m not upset!” He snapped and let out a burst of air from his nostrils. “I’m not- not upset. I just don’t want this to be a thing you know?”

“A thing?” You questioned.

“Yeah. A thing, an issue, a problem.” He clarified, rolling his eyes. “It’s always been something that everyone blames shit on. I wake up grumpy ‘Anakin did you take your medicine?’. I complain about standing in a line at the fucking coffee shop ‘Ani, sweetie, are you doing okay?’. I don’t answer the phone on the first ring ‘Ani! I was so worried. Do you need me to come visit? Take care of things?’. It’s just all a matter of time before-“

“Oh no sir.” You stopped him, a scowl on your face. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare tell me I’m gonna start nagging you like I’m your mother.”

“That’s not what-“

“No, that’s stupid okay? Listen I know it sucks to be questioned like that but she’s only doing it cause she cares about you.” You said, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Now that I know… I trust you’ll tell me if there’s anything going on I should know about.”

“You don’t answer to your mother anymore and if she or anyone else has questions they can talk to me.” You said sternly. Anakin stared at you, lips parted slightly. Even in the dark you could see his pupils dilate a little more.

“That was hot.” He said, smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “When did you get so bossy?”

“You are the company you keep.” You shrugged, a light smile on your face.

“Callin’ me bossy? Rude.” He chuckled.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You huffed out a little laugh.

”You know…” He whispered, breath warm as it fanned across your cheek, “I could be really bossy if you want.” His voice deep and rumbling in his chest, the vibrations resounding in your own, pressed against his.

”You did so good for me earlier, let me pay you back babydoll.” His husky words stoking the flame in your womb. He shifted, pressing his cock against your hip and grinding, one hand trailing down your back, over your ass and gripping the back of your thigh to pull over him, manhandling you until you perched over his throbbing member. You could feel the heat emanating from it even through your clothes, making your mouth water.

”Ani, it’s so late.” You whispered, nibbling the skin on your lower lip as you prepared to turn him down… again. “I can suck you off if you want.” You offered as an alternative.

“Are you fucking serious? ‘If i want’? You make it sound like a chore.” He groaned frustratedly, gently shoving you off his lap. “You know what? Never mind.”

”I’ll just do it my damn self, like I have been since you came back.” He snapped at you, getting up from the bed and slamming the bedroom door shut as he left the room.

He was much angrier about the denial than you expected, so angry that he was feeling spiteful. Stomping over to the couch he sat himself down and fumed for a moment before deciding a course of action. Looking down at his phone, the album of your many homemade pornos calling his name. He wanted to screen mirror it to the TV, curious if you’d recognize your own moans and sloshing pussy and come running.

He licked his top row of teeth, The devious thought now at the forefront of his mind and there was no stopping him. He grabbed the remote and screen mirrored his phone to the TV, something he’d done a shameful nuimber of times to these very videos without your knowledge. He turned up the sound enough that you could hear it, but the poor neighbors sharing his living room wall would be spared.

He selected one of his favorites and exited the album to prepare the rest of his plan before steeping into action. Anakin tugged at his boxers and spit in the palm of his hand, slicking up his painfully neglected dick, shivering at the feeling of the well deserved friction that you had denied him. Hitting play he watched as Ghost shoved you to your knees on your bedroom floor, wasting no time at all in shoving his cock down your pretty throat and brutalizing your delicate mouth.

He loved the view, being able to see himself doing such things to you. It was as close to an out of body experience he’d ever gotten. He firmly gripped his shaft, spreading his precum over his cockhead with his thumb. Groaning at the feeling of the calloused skin on such a soft, silky, sensitive part of himself. The beautiful noises you made, choking and gagging as you tried to breathe through your nose, it was like he was transported right back to that moment, seeing it in real time all over again.

This part was for him, just a warm up, just enough to get himself more needy than he already was. He wanted to look as pitiful as he felt when you came barreling out of the bedroom to confront him. He edged himself until he was sick of it, until he was so sensitive that his tip leaked, his balls tightened with every few strokes and he felt as though if he didn’t cum he might throw up.

He flicked over to the next video, another favorite, one he watched so often that if it were on DVD the damn thing wouldn’t play anymore. The one time Ghost stripped himself naked for you, let you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. It was dirty, sensual, dare he even say… romantic? He could feel the connection you shared through the screen each and every time he saw it. Imagining what was going on in that stupid little brain of yours when he hears the first gasp, your realization he was baring himself to you. He wondered if you were nervous, if the idea of it scared you, if it made it all the more real for you like it did for him. That barrier of fabric removed, nothing restricting your soft skin from touching his, he wondered if that’s the moment it set in for you that Ghost was more than a fantasy. He was flesh and blood just like you.

——————————————————————————

You sat in bed where Anakin had left you, unable to comprehend his reaction. You stared at the door, expecting him to come back in a moment after he’d cooled off. He’d apologize, you’d forgive him, everything would be fine. After all, you understood the awful mood swings now. This wasn’t entirely your fault. You were just that catalyst.

Though he didn’t come back. You checked your phone in hopes you’d see a message that maybe he was on the fireescape smoking and he’d be right back after his cigarette, ready to hold you as you fell asleep. That’s all you wanted, some comfort. On top of everything else that had happened this past week, you’d started your period. It was no wonder you’d been extra emotional, overly worried and over thinking every minuscule aspect of the goings on in your life. The hands of fate had decided you needed one more punch to the face in the form of blood and pain.

Poetic justice for the blood you’d spilt? Not likely, but it was in close enough in probability for it to have made you laugh the day before yesterday when you’d spotted in your favorite pair of panties.

You had almost calmed yourself from the stress of you current situation when you heard low grunting from the living room, paired with a lewd gagging noise. Porn. He was watching porn rather than taking you up on your offer of oral pleasure. Not only was it a slap to the face, it was a backhanded one at that, realizing it was too loud to be played on his phone. He was replacing you with a pornstar on the hi-def flatscreen in the living room, a perfect picture of a perfect girl that could never be you.

You had half a mind to go in there and ask him what the hell he was thinking, how could he be so cruel… but you stopped yourself. He was fully in his right to watch porn whenever he wanted. Who were you to tell him he couldn’t satisfy himself? That would be insane, it’d be a breach of privacy and a horrible misuse of trust. How awful would you be to tell him to stop when you’ve been fucking around behind his back for the entirety of your relationship?

So you sat and stewed, torturing yourself with images of him touching himself. His large hands, the ripple of muscle in his arm when he stroked his shaft, the noises he made, the way his pretty blue eyes would flutter shut as his head fell back, plump lips being bitten to keep quiet. It was all you could do not to burst into tears. Your couldn’t imagine someone else giving him that kind of pleasure. It made you sick. Even if it was only a woman on screen it felt like betrayal, even more so because he chose her over you.

“You’re a horrible, awful human being” You whispered to yourself, sucking in a breath as the crushing weight of all your transgressions impacted your fragile mind state.

The thought of him feeling this way was more than enough to break your heart. You had no right to cry, not after everything you’ve done. These weren’t your tears threatening to spill. These were Anakin’s. This awful stomach churning, head busting, throat closing pain; was Anakin’s, not yours. This is what he’d feel if he ever discovered what you’d been doing.

He would see the same images you did, only his torturous slideshow would be starring you. Your face scrunching up in pleasure, your mewls and whines as another man fills the sweet pussy he thought belonged only to him. He’d see the flushed face and embarrassed giggle you make when he stares so deeply into your eyes he feels his head swim… then it would be ruined by the thought of someone else doing the very same. Someone else making you cry out for more, someone else making you shake, someone else kissing away the salty tears he so loved to see stain your cheeks after he’d made a mess of you. Tainted, irreparably destroyed and desecrated in a way that could never be forgiven.

He wouldn’t be able to see anything else but your betrayal when he set his eyes on you.

Just as you were coming to terms with that fact, another hit you hard in the gut. Bile rising up in your throat and burning yout nostrils as you forced yourself to swallow it back down. What about Ghost? Is this how he has felt throughout it all? The room spun with the idea that you could’ve been causing him such agonizing pain for so long. He’d seen it all. He had been looking after you long before Anakin entered the picture. He had to watch from the shadows as you fell in love with someone else. He was subjected to the very things you’d just played through in your mind.

He had been watching another man touch the woman he loved. The woman he loved so much that he was willing to do anything and everything on earth to see you, keep you, hold you. The woman he treated like royalty in his own way, unconventional to most but… when he called you a goddess you felt like one. How else would you have been lucky enough to be loved by a man like him and to be loved by a man like Anakin at the same time? How horribly fitting.

A perfect example of the tragedies of old. Hubris of the gods always causing chaos for the weaker beings on the earth below. You’d been watching from a chaise in the clouds, peering down at the two heroes fighting for your affections. Only one having knowledge of the competition, a champion as they’re often called; a fighter who has the favor of a deity. A mortal with no knowledge of the battle they’re in… will most certainly befall a gruesome death at the hands of the devine’s champion.

You held your head in your hands, taking calming breaths. This is exactly the kind of thing you were reprimanding yourself for earlier. Overthinking. Over analyzing. Putting yourself and others in it, in a scrutinizing environment that would only lead to a downward spiral.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing is going to happen. Everything always works out in the end.” You promised yourself.

You shook yourself from the self inflicted suffering, thinking maybe a drink of cool water and possibly a retch over the toilet might help stop the icepick hacking away at your brain, pressure building behind your eyes to from the world’s worst headache. As you stood, you slowly became aware of the change in sound coming from the living room. It had went quiet a few minutes ago, but now it seemed…

”Are you fuckin-“ Anakin was watching another video. You’d wrongfully assumed the break in sex noises meant that he was finished and would come back to bed, though it seemed he had plans to stay busy for the next little bit.

You huffed, reminding yourself that its fine, everything is fine. Just take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and-

“What the hell was that?” You thought, ears tuning into something intimately familiar as your hand hovered over the door knob.

There is no way. No possible way that Anakin could’ve gotten his hands on that footage of his own accord… right? This was it, this was the end of it all, the beginning of the fall of the greatest era of your life. Ghost had done it, he’d sent him the videos. How stupid could you have been to believe he didn’t have cameras here too? Did you really believe he wasn’t going to monitor the other man in your life?

He’d heard the argument. He’d seen Anakin storm off, watched as he… touched himself. Then used your own actions against you; this wasn’t a coincidence that the very night you searched for Ghostface porn, research purposes or not, that an explicit video of you with not your boyfriend ends up on the tv where said boyfriend is jacking off.

Surely you’re imagining it right? You’ve just worked yourself up into a tizzy and now you’re hearing things because of your overwhelming guilt. Yes, that’s it. It’s all in your head. You’ve heard Ghost speak so many times that it’d be silly of you not to be able to conjure up an exact replica of his voice and exact words you’d heard from behind his mask before. You know what your own moans sound like, of course you do. Doesn’t everyone?

You grab the door knob and twist it open, pushing open with more force than necessary and bracing yourself for the possibility that Anakin may be on the other side of it ready to kick you out and never let you come back. But the sounds you heard on the other side of the door didn’t sound like you and Ghost. It didn’t sound like porn of any kind. It sounded like… Dale Gribble?

”Ani?” You asked quietly, poking your head around the corner, your eyes adjusting to the different lighting to reveal him curled up in the corner of the sofa, wrapped in a blanket.

“Huh?” He sniffled. He’d been crying?

You’d imagined it. He hadn’t done anything at all. He’s been sitting in here, alone, sobbing over his bong and an empty beer bottle while watching Comedy Central. The poor boy had tried to take his mind off the subject of his weirdly behaving girlfriend by watching King of the Hill. You’d never seen someone close to rock bottom before, but Anakin looked like he had just booked an express ticket for the earliest train.

”Sorry, I uh… what are you doing?” You asked cautiously approaching him, your gaze flickering to the TV suspiciously.

”I’m just… moping.” He cleared his throat, hiding his burning hot face in the crook of his arm. “I’m sorry doll, I feel stupid getting so upset over this. It’s not fair to you.”

“Anakin, are you okay?” You asked as you sat down next to him, your hand on his chest to feel his rapid heartbeat and heaving lungs.

“Sweetheart, is there something you’re not telling me?” Anakin asked and your heart bounced out of your chest.

”What? I don-“

”It’s just… I can’t help but feel a bit insecure.” His voice soft and hurt. “You won’t give me a straight answer as to why you won’t let me touch you. I miss you baby.”

”Ani it’s got nothing to do with you I promise.” You whispered, wanting him to lay his eyes on you, but he kept them downturned.

”But its… It’s been since before your trip, I just worry. Are you sure I didn’t do something?” He asked, finally looking over at you with big watery eyes, the salty tears spilling over into a stream down his hot cheeks.

“Anakin, let’s not rehash this again.” You pleaded, taking his trembling hand in yours. “Yes I was upset when I came back from my trip, that made me less inclined to want to be… intimate.”

“So, so what’s wrong n-now?” He sniffled, swiping the heel of his palm over his cheeks.

“I’m not upset Ani, I just… I’m on my period and I just don’t fe-“ He sat up slightly and cupped your cheek.

”Babydoll, Why didn’t you just say so?” Anakin asked in a pained tone, like he was deeply perturbed you kept that detail to yourself. “I’ve been beating myself up thinking I’d done something to upset you or-or make me less attractive to you.”

”Oh, no don’t say that, no. You’re so handsome, hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “I will never not be attracted to you.”

”I’ve just been so emotional and I’ve been cramping and everything hurts, I’m tired and period sex is so messy Ani.” You said as nicely as possible so you wouldn’t set him off again.

”Darlin’ you know I don’t mind a little blood,” he chuckled, sucking in a breath through his nose. “I’ve helped you with your cramps before, let me help now.” He said softly, rubbing your cheek bone with his thumb.

”Feel me sweetheart… it hurts me.” He whined, taking your hand to place it over his cock.

So hot, throbbing and covered in precum that you could feel the sticky wet patch where his cockhead rested against the fabric of his boxers. He felt so stiff that you knew immediately he hadn’t cum, maybe he hadn’t even attempted to take care of the issue hisself like you assumed.

“Anakin, I thought you… you know?” You asked quietly, eyebrows pinched in concern.

“I tried.” He sniffed, looking away with an air of embarrassment surrounding him. “Couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Your voice soft and warm, an attempt to soothe him.

“C-cause you were right there n’ all I could th-think about was y-you not wantin’ me.” He whimpered, his bottom lip in a pout as he frowned, taking in a choppy breath.

“Aw Ani, I’m sorry.” You whispered, reaching over to touch his face. “Let me see, let me help you.”

“It’s okay babydoll, I-I’ll just wait for it to go down.” He bit his lip, taking a throw pillow from the couch beside him to put over his lap, hiding his raging erection.

“No,” You shook your head, feeling awful for how you’d denied him for such silly reasons, you should’ve known better. “I want to. Please let me?”

“Y-you really do?” He asked with a pitifully hopeful tone that nearly knotted your stomach.

“Of course I do.” You said softly, nodding your head for his reassurance. “Just uh, I gotta go to the bathroom real quick to take out my tampon.” You said, almost bashfully.

“You’re gonna let me?” He asked with knitted eyebrows, his face twisted in a sense of surprise and maybe disbelief. “You’re gonna let me make love to you?”

“If that’s what you want.” You nodded, folding your lips behind your teeth before letting them roll back out.

“Please.” He nodded, nearly falling over as he scooped you up and took you to the bedroom. “Thank you baby, thank you.” He whispered repeatedly as if he couldn’t express his gratitude enough.

“Wait I gotta-“ You let out a little giggle at his eagerness despite being the cause of it.

“Don’t care. I’ll get it.” His voice came out low and raspy as he lay you down with your legs hanging over the end of the bed. You tried scooting yourself upright and he stopped you, a gentle hand placed on your stomach to keep you were he wanted.

“Ani, please, let me go to the bathroom.” You whined, unsure about how you’d handle being so vulnerable with him. It’s one thing to be intimate while on your period but an entirely different matter when it comes to another person, even one you trust, to remove your tampon.

“I’ll be careful.” He whispered, tugging off your shorts and panties in one go, reaching behind him to pull over his small bedroom trash can that he kept near the closet.

Gently, carefully he very slowly parted your folds, giving him full access to your most intimate place. He licked his thumb, running it back and forth over your clit with his other hand poised to take action.

“Ready? I promise I’ll be so careful.” His tone made it seem less of a question and more of a finality. He was going to remove it regardless of your answer. He confirmed that prediction by tugging carefully on the string at your opening.

“So fuckin’ sexy.” He whispered into the plushness of your inner thigh as he placed soft kisses there to soothe you while removing it carefully as promised.

With it tossed in the trash, Anakin jumped into one of his very favorite things to do; feast on your pussy. His tongue snaked it’s way from your weeping hole all the way up to your clit. Letting out a low, wanton moan he buried his tongue as deeply as possible into your cunt, slurping and teasing your entrance before plunging back inside, repeating the process over and over again until he had you squirming.

“Pussy’s so sweet.” He mumbled, humming contentedly like he was prepared to do that for the rest of all time and throughly enjoy every sinful second.

His hands found your hips, elbows bent to keep your legs open for him. His thumbs gently pressing down in massaging circles meant to help relieve your muscles from cramps. You can’t deny that it does help, you’ve almost forgotten the real reason you’d been fending off his advances, almost angry at Ghost- yourself for being the reason you had denied yourself this pain relief.

“Relax pretty girl, you’re so tense.” He whispered pulling back to look up at you, “gotta enjoy this while you can… I can wait much longer.” He smiled apologetically, he hated not being able to take his time, but you understood.

“It’s okay Ani,” you panted, lacing your fingers through his hair to draw him back to where you needed him most. “y-you can-“

“Really? Thanks sweetheart.” He chirped, hopping up from his kneeling position and pulling you toward him as he stood at the foot of his bed.

He didn’t wait for you to finish speaking, he didn’t listen to your nonverbal cue, he simply ripped off his shirt and boxers; revealing his horribly red and irritated cock. The tip covered in precum, shiny and dripping a fresh bead that glistened in the lamp light. He really wasn’t kidding when he said it hurt, you almost felt a sympathy pain for him at the sight of it.

“Oh Anakin, oh I’m so sorry.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows to take off your shirt that he’d left on in his rush. “I didn’t realize…”

“Shh, shh.” He hushed you, cleaning the bloody slick from his chin, running his palm across his skin to smear it on his chest. “S’okay. S’fine.” He shook his head.

Running the heated tip through your dampness, nudging your clit before pushing inside slowly as he shivered. The simple act of being enveloped by your warm, welcoming walls had him biting down on his whitened knuckles to keep himself from bursting then and there.

“So good.” He whined, rutting into you with shallow thrusts, bringing the crook of your knees to rest over his shoulders. “So damn good, wet n’ sloppy for me. S-so pretty, such a pretty red.” He whimpered, pulling out completely to stroke himself just once, gathering up the bloody mixture to lick from his hand with a disgusting fervidity.

“Ani.” You chided, a slight grimace on your face. You didn’t necessarily find it gross, but it was definitely embarrassing.

“I love you, every part of you.” He said, his voice needy and squeaky. “Even this.”

“Don’t stop me from doing what I love.” He said, gripping your thighs against his chest, leaning forward slightly to speed up his pace.

Anakin’s breathing was shallow and choppy, like he was having trouble remembering to breathe, as if the only thing his brain was capable of was keeping up with how hard and fast he was pounding into you.

“Ah-s-slow please.” You hiccuped, being jostled up and down from the roughness, bracing yourself by gripping the edge of the bed.

“Can’t.” He shook his head frantically, his bottom lip quivering as he bit down to hide it from you.

“You okay Ani?” You asked with concern through halted speech.

“Mhm.” He nodded, his face growing pink as he squeezed his eyes shut. Anakin was trying so hard not to cry. Cry from the overwhelming need to cum, the overstimulation he’d forced on himself, and from how his thousandth declaration of love seemed to fail at chipping away your defenses once again.

He wasn’t trying to please you in this moment, this was completely for his benefit. The release he so desperately needed was just within his reach and nothing and no one could stop him from claiming it. He’d waited too long, been uncomfortably suffering since he stormed out of the bedroom and now that he was back, he didn’t think you’d mind being a little… used.

“S-sorry doll, sorry.” He hiccuped, hearing you mewl and feeling your nails dig into his shoulders as you took the beat he so lovingly doled out. “Can’t help it, m’sorry.”

He dropped your legs to hang at his sides, sliding both his arms beneath you to press you against himself in a tight squeeze, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, both gripped firmly in his strong hands, fully securing you in his arms.

“I wanna be close to you.” He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as his cock slid smoothly in and all the way out of your soaked pussy, just to repeat the movement again at an inhumane speed and depth. The tip not just kissing your cervix, but most certainly bruising it from the bullying motion. “Need to be close to you, s’not enough.”

“Can’t get any closer than this Ani.” You breathed out a light laugh after taking in a sharp gasp.

“Wish I could.” He sniffled, his hips stuttering as his stomach tightened and he was no longer able to hold his tears at bay.

“I love you.” He whispered, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping in small puddles across your shoulder and collar bone. He tried to silence himself by kissing your neck, nipping lovingly but he was so shaky it was no use in trying to conceal his emotions so he let himself sob.

“I love you, I just want you to love me.” Anakin sobbed, loud and exhausted, his chest heaving against yours, sticky with sweat from his efforts. “I want you to love me, why don’t you love me?”

His pleas were pitiful, so raw and vulnerable. He was once again baring his soul to you and you had no idea how to respond. The first instinct is to say it back, say it and soothe him, help him reign in his tears. But you hesitate, knowing it wasn’t exactly right; even if it is true.

“Please.” Whimpering softly, audibly sniffing back snot after letting his heart bleed through his lips. “Please just love me, let yourself love me like I love you.”

“C-can’t.” He whined, hips snapping against yours as he reached between you to put pressure on your clit, the simple touch fogging your brain. “I can’t cum.” He hiccuped.

It was awful, seeing him so close, so wild and frenzied to climb to a summit he just couldn’t get to, the poor boy had been so frustrated for so long and now that he finally had you again it was practically torture to be within those satiny walls he would kill to live in.

“Anakin.” You said softly, shifting and wriggling in his tight embrace to gain use of one arm to gently push his chin up, making him look at you. He looked as piteous as he sounded, red faced and splotchy, luscious eyelashes heavy with salty tears.

“Anakin I do… I do love you I-“

“Goddamnit.” He choked out, his movements completely stilling save for the twitching of his cock and the rapid beat of his heart, he even stopped breathing. The halted air eeking out in a groaning squeak while he pumped you so full of cum that you could feel it overflow, leaking out without him even moving.

“I do love you Ani. I just wasn’t ready to say it and I was scared.” You said quietly, letting him collapse into a quietly weeping heap atop you, his hips rolling against you ever so slowly.

“Say it again.” He asked, so sorrowfully that you could deny it if you tried.

“I love you.” Your hand finding his head, holding him against your damp chest as you gently scratched his scalp. It was bittersweet to say it aloud. You’d kept it bottled up for months and it was a relief to finally admit it, but it also twisted that proverbial knife in your gut. You can’t truly love a man while another has a piece of your heart as well.

“Let me kiss my princess.” He whispered, leaning back to wipe at his mess of a face before coming back to meet your lips with his own. “I love you baby, I love you.” His voice soft and sweet, a light lilt that made your heart feel just a bit lighter.

Anakin started to thrust slow and deep, reaching every part of you with equal intensity. With one hand he pushed your right leg back against the bed, his other coming to run across your abdomen, caressing the skin until he reached the beautiful valley and hills of your breasts. He was taking his time now, but you knew it wouldn’t be long until you unraveled.

“I love you too.” You said, swallowing down the lump in your throat and giving him a soft, warm smile, blinking quickly to bat away the tears forming. You weren’t entirely sure why your eyes got watery but you knew for certain it wasn’t solely because of your confession.

Enveloping one of your nipples into his mouth twisting and pinching the other between his saliva covered fingers, Anakin stayed true to his promise that he’d make love to you. Everything he did now was focused entirely on you and your needs. He watched every twitch, every breath, every heart beat to stay intuitive to what you desired of him.

“Like that.” You nodded quickly as he angled his hips upward to put extra pressure on your sweet spot -only he could reach.-

“You like it sweetheart?” He rasped, looking down at you with lust blown pupils.

“Love it.” Mewling as you arched into his hand that snuck between your thighs.

“That’s what I wanna hear babydoll.” Anakin licked his bottom lip, carefully working you up to orgasm with his skillful touch and perfectly fitted cock.

“Gods… what a pretty pink.” He mumbled, looking down where your bodies met with a hunger that seemed insatiable.

Anakin didn’t want to stop his consistent and steady pace he’d set with his thumb. But, he just could not resist the temptation to taste the creamy pink blend of your slick, his cum and your sweet, sweet blood. Gathering up a dollop, he brought it to his mouth, sucking his finger clean with a ferocity you’d never expected. His knees buckled and his cock twitched; suddenly he was cumming again, powering through his unsteady thrusts to attempt to keep his pace for you.

“Fuckin’ hell doe-oll, doll, my babydoll.” He corrected himself, hoping you wouldn’t think anything of it.

You didn’t. You couldn’t think at all. You could hardly hear a single syllable from his plump lips, focusing all your attention and energy on reminding yourself to breathe as you clenched around his thickness. The sudden and unexpected sensation of him coating your gummy walls, simply from such a disgustingly delicious taste was enough to send you into an equally spontaneous orgasm. Your legs shook, a high-pitched whine escaped your chest and you squirmed beneath him while gripping the blanket beneath you so tightly you felt sure that you’d ripped a bit of the stitching.

“There’s my girl, my sweet girl.” He muttered, seeing your eyes fluttering back open as though you were regaining consciousness. In a way, you were.

“Mmhmm.” You nodded tiredly, your arms wrapping around his neck as he nuzzled against your throat, peppering kisses across your flushed skin. “Your girl.”

“I know.” He chuckled, tilting your head back to capture you in a gentle, sensually slow kiss. His tongue barely grazing your lip, just enough to leave you breathless before he pulled back and flashed you a smile you hadn’t seen for a few days. A real one.

Diary Entry: September 17th

I should be ashamed of myself, I’m aware. I just can’t be bothered to conjure up that emotion.

I’m taking this and fucking sprinting with it, I’ll hit Mach 10 before NASA does. You told me you loved me. Me. Anakin.

Yeah it might’ve been… coerced. Just a tiny little bit of course, you said it if your own accord. I simply pushed you in the right direction. Now. Don’t go thinking those tears were a sham. I swear they weren’t.

That embarrassing display was entirely real and justified in my opinion, though that doesn’t make it any easier to acknowledge that this was not the first time and won’t be the last time that I cry while balls deep in your heavenly body.

Insane isn’t it? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it every single opportunity that arises: it’s just further proof that you truly are a goddess. How else would it be possible to cause a grown man to fucking cry like that?

Date: September 16th 12:38

You stretched, yawning and groaning as your body adjusted to being awake. You’d slept late, as late as you possibly could because of how long you’d stayed up last night. You were still tired, not nearly as exhausted as expected but still sleepy enough that if you were to close your eyes for too long they’d stay shut for another few hours.

You sniffed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, rolling over to your phone and seeing Anakin had texted you not too long ago. He was out getting groceries for the two of you and he’d promised to bring home your favorite icecream, knowing you’d gnawed through the very last of it and you desperately needed more. After sending a quick message to let him know you were finally awake, you rolled over again and stretched out like I starfish, enjoying the cooler temperature of the sheets on Anakin’s side of the bed.

Even going so far as to scooch yourself over and snuggle up to his pillow to breathe in his scent. A cold, hard object touched your cheek and startled you, the item making a slightly metallic sound in the dark room. You grabbed your phone and held the screen over the pillow, nearly choking on air when you recognized the offending object. You grabbed it, turning it over in your hands with a most confused expression on your face.

Ghost. He’s brought your hair pin over here, placed it on Anakin’s pillow for you to find. But why? He never did things without a purpose, so what on earth could he have aimed to do by leaving you this? Bolting upright you went straight to the light switch and flicked it on, blinking and shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness as you frantically looked around the room in search of anything out of place.

Once you were certain the bedroom was safe, you searched the rest of Anakin’s apartment and found that all was well in each corner of his home. So it must mean Ghost has left something for you at your own home. Or maybe he’s just trying to fuck with you? He’s been so confusing and it’s been so awful… maybe he’s just hoping to upset you. Even so, you found yourself walking across the threshold of your apartment just moments later.

Ghost has been here. He’s been here while you were away at Anakin’s and you’re not entirely sure what the point of his visit was. The cat food bowl was full, your floor had been vacuumed and your bedroom door was open.

Half expecting to find him in there, you walked in and surveyed the room. Disappointment flooding you when you realized he wasn’t there like you’d hoped. Though remnants of him were. Spread neatly across the top of your dresser were all the little things that you’d kept in your jewelry box. Trinkets and notes, along with a few other things. The tiny cameras. He’d taken them all down and laid them in a row for you to see.

He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he didn’t need them anymore. He was finished watching you, instead of relief you felt a painful sense of loss, like you were missing something intangible but feeling it physically. Anakin’s ring. The bullet. They were both lying there at the end of the dresser, the bullet laid inside the metal centipede. Odd. Odd enough to note it for further reflection if needed, but not odd enough to capture your full attention.

No. Your sights were set on a cardboard box lying atop your bed. You rushed to rip the lid off, seeing something unexpected inside. Underwear. A whole handful of panties, your panties. Pairs you’d long since assumed had been eaten by the shitty laundromat washers. Beneath them were a set of identical sheets to the ones on your bed at that very moment, you even lifted the edge of the comforter to confirm it.

The items only continued to grow stranger. Some things you didn’t even recognize until closer inspection, like reciepts, bookmarks, random odds and ends of things you’d lost or thrown out… things you didn’t understand why he would’ve wanted to keep. That was until you stumbled across one slip of paper tucked away inside the large ziploc bag of other crinkled papers. A phone number.

The yoga instructor. His phone number, all this time you’d believed you’d simply lost it. The truth dawned on you slowly as you spread out all those little scraps of your life, realizing some of them were yours and some were his. Theater tickets, restaurant coasters, stupid little things that held no meaning for you until now. He’d followed you far and wide, that much you already knew. You just didn’t realize how closely he was following.

He’d attended movies with you, he could’ve sat directly behind you and watched you instead of the screen and you wouldn’t have ever known. Your favorite coffee place, there were some of your receipts along with a slew of what must be his, considering you never ordered smoothies from there. Time stamped minutes before or after your reciepts were. You’d drank coffee, stood in line… never noticing him.

You wracked each corner of your mind in hopes of finding a familiar face sticking out in the recesses. Willing yourself to dig deep and fish out a common denominator. Was there a man who could possibly fit his physique amongst the crowds in your memories? Try as you might, there weren’t any faces coming up on your register that seemed suspicious or even slightly familiar.

Pictures. Close to a hundred pictures of you from all moments of life. Shopping at the grocery store, getting into your car, browsing the shelves of the library, chatting with your friends, or simply of you inside your home from outside your livingroom window. Even more unsettling were the photos without you in them. Photos of Luke’s apartment, your sister’s house, The Bluebird diner, your car.

Then at the very bottom was your copy of The Silmarillion, the one you’d been so horribly disappointed to lose. Not that it made you feel any better to have it back, not now. Not after everything. You opened it up and saw a sticky note inside with Ghost’s handwriting adorning it.

‘Sent with all my love, Ghost.’

That’s it? That’s all he had to say after dropping this bombshell off on you? You were so simply exasperated by the entire situation that you shoved everything back down into the box, then making a big sweep of your arm across your dresser to knock all the other pieces of Ghost into the box and shove it angrily under your bed. What is it exactly that he was trying to do?

Diary Entry: September 21st

I’m assuming you were unhappy with Ghost’s display. Was it not clear that I was trying to physically show you everything I’ve done for you? Was it not obvious that I love you more than life itself?

Or are you just terrified by that very fact I was trying to get across? Now that you’ve told me you love me, are you leaving Ghost? I suppose I should be respectful of the fact you’ve begun to ignore me. It seems you’ve made up your mind.

I thought you’d be happy with the lengthened leash I’d put you on. No more cameras to watch your every move, I have your phone to listen in when I feel the need to, that’s enough for me now that I’m graced with your beautiful face as often as I’d like to be. I get to see you through my own eyes, no longer forced only to see you through filtered lenses of my mask. Why bother with looking through the lens of a camera anymore either? It’s no where near as satisfying as being able to reach out and touch the flesh I’d yearned to feel for so long.

Diary Entry: September 22nd

There’s not many things I’m scared of, but this appointment is rightfully terrifying. I simply can’t imagine how you’d react if you happened to overhear any of the sensitive information I’ll be forced to share. I know that patient confidentiality and HIPPA are extremely important and very much required, but what if the walls are not thick enough? Will they have a white noise machine outside the door?

September 25th

You had been standing on the platform outside Luke’s apartment for almost ten minutes when his neighbor stepped outside onto the concrete platform, sitting himself down in a faded green lawn chair with a cigarillo pinched between his teeth. He regarded you with a slow nod and an uncomfortable head to toe scan, are middle aged men so completely unaware of themselves that they don’t grasp that they’re being creepy? Or do they just not care?

You gave him the obligatory ‘smile so you don’t ask me to’ half-assed toothless smile.

‘Ur creep neighbors out here again.’ You shot off the text to Luke, the fourth message you’d sent him in between loud knocking and shouting.

Luke was never late. He was always the earliest person to any gathering, he was always the most prepared, so unlike you. You’d gotten here three minutes past the time you’d promised to be at his door. You fully expected him to be waiting, tapping his foot with that disapproving frown he loves to grace you with.

“He’s not home.” A gritty, decades-long smoker’s voice crawled into your ear from behind.

“D-do you know when he left?” You asked awkwardly.

“Yeah.” He nodded, taking a long drag from his cigarillo that made him sputter and hack up smoker’s sludge that he spat over the railing. You hoped no one was unlucky enough to be walking past at that time in the parking lot below.

“Do you think you could tell me?” You huffed impatiently.

“Got yer knickers in a twist?” He snorted at your brusque tone.

“Y’know what. Nevermind.” You scoffed, turning away and making a quick exit for the concrete steps and onto the sidewalk below.

With a cautionary glance over your shoulder, you picked up the pace to reach your car. There’s no chance that man could catch up to you, but you wouldn’t put it past him to try his hand at it. You heard a sharp, song-like whistle from behind you and felt your stomach churn.

A familiar, clean voice rang out through the parking lot, shouting out your name. Snapping your head around, your body took a second to follow. It was Luke, finally. Finally he was here and although you were relieved to see him, it also enraged you.

“Where the hell were you? You need to answer your fucking phone!” You shouted, quick walking over to him to shove his shoulder.

“Jesus I’m sorry!” He squeaked, shaking his head in bewilderment at your frantic speech. “I was at the overpass and I saw-“

“Your disgusting neighbor was… he was being disgusting.” You whisper shouted, following Luke up the steps and hoping the guy was back inside.

“Mhm, yes that is usually what he does.” Luke nodded in agreement although sarcastically.

“Where were you?” You repeated yourself as Luke unlocked the door.

“Well I was trying to tell you.” He scoffed. “But you talked over me. You know I hate it when you do that it-“

“I’m sorry! Just-“ you paused, raising your eyebrows as Luke scowled at you. “Right. Interrupting.” You cleared your throat and kicked off your shoes while he locked the door behind you both.

“As I was saying, I was on the overpass and I saw the tiniest little kitten up there.” He said, holding one hand over the other to replicate the size of the kitten. “I felt bad so I got out and scooped him up.”

“You parked your car and got out on the overpass?” You said in a shocked tone. It was always horribly busy and crowded, entirely too terrifying for you to have done that… maybe you might be persuaded by a situation like this.

“I didn’t want the little guy to get squashed.” Luke retorted.

“I don’t want you to get squashed.” You laughed, surprised.

“I’m fine and so is my new buddy.” Luke said proudly.

“You’re keeping him? Oh my god Luke did you leave him in the car?” You gasped, looking down at his empty hands before turning to walk to the door.

“No! No you idiot.” He huffed, smacking your shoulder. “I’m not that oblivious. I dropped him off at the vet’s office. You remember Jalen?” He asked.

“Sure, why?” You asked, pulling a face. Jalen was Luke’s shortest and worst crush from his player stint.

“He works there at the clinic now!” He explained, going to the sink to wash his hands, then trudging off to his room to change clothes. “I told him I was in a rush so he emailed me the registration papers and went ahead and put the kitten in one of those wall cages.”

“Wall cages?” You asked, standing in his doorway, facing the opposite direction so he could have a bit of privacy.

“Yeah, you know, the little kennel things.” He said quickly. “Anyway, I figured I’d fill it out once I got home so give me a minute or two and then we’ll chat m’kay?”

“Does Han know you’re bringing home a baby?” You asked teasingly.

“Yes of course. He’s practically my husband of course he knows.” He scoffed, tapping your shoulder to make you move. He plopped himself down on the couch and patted the spot next to him for you to do the same.

Luke mumbled to himself as he filled out the online registration, it was quick considering he had zero prior information about the little kitty. “Hey, would it be stupid to put ‘pitiful and abandoned’ in the Reason For Visit section?”

“Was he pitiful?” You asked.

“Yes.” Luke nodded, pursing his lips. “Before you ask, yes he was also abandoned. You’re so right. Perfect. Mm, also crusty goopy eyes.”

“Yeah, I’d probably put crusty, goopy eyes first.” You said, crossing your feet at the ankles and resting them on the coffee table.

“Too late.” He shrugged, hitting send and almost immediately getting a confirmation email from Jalen.

“Did you mention that you are in a very committed relationship?” You asked, finding the quick response a tad odd.

“No. Why would I do that? It was quicker and my new friend got into the safety of the little cage before the ugly old scrungly pug that came in right before us did.” He snorted. “I have pretty privilege, Han will understand.”

“You’re awful.” You laughed, covering your mouth as you snorted loudly. “What if you made that scrungly pug late for his very important appointment?”

“Appointment for what? Cremation?” Luke clicked his tongue, hiding a smirk and holding in a giggle at his own joke.

“Shut up.” You snickered, taking a deep breath as you dropped your hands into your lap. “Anyway. I needed to t-“

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m naming it?” He cut you off, looking offended.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and clasping your hands. “Luke. What are you naming your kitten?” You chirped.

“Art the second.” He said with a small smile.

“Nuh-uh.” You grinned, remembering the old scruffy cat he’d begged his parents to let him keep.

The poor old elderly tomcat had wound up on their front porch during a rainstorm and he was almost mistaken for a lump of wet newspaper. Once he got dry, he looked ten pounds heavier from all the fuzz and knots. He lived out the rest of his years being pampered better than the Queen of England.

“I miss Art.” You sighed, smiling fondly at the memory. He was a grumpy old boy but he was the first cat you’d met that you actually meshed well with. You’d joked that you wanted split custody in the event y+ou and Luke ever had a falling out.

“I miss Art too.” He nodded, laying down on the couch and shuffling until he’d laid his head on your thigh. “But Art the Second will live a long happy life. The life Art the First should’ve had.”

“Don’t get sappy please. You know how I feel about that stupid cat.” You huffed, letting out the air with puffed cheeks. It was the first pet death you and Luke had experienced, you thought you may never recover. Obviously it was still a touchy subject.

“Fine, I’ll cry about it later.” He sighed, waving it off before tucking his hands beneath his arms. “Alright, what did you desperately need to talk to me about?” He asked.

“Okay, please promise you won’t yell at me.” You whispered, petting his hair comfortingly while you pulled out your phone and turned it off. This conversation absolutely could not be monitored by Ghost. Your new paranoia making you survey the area to see if he’d somehow placed cameras in Luke’s house as well.

“Wow, I love it when you start a conversation so ominously. I can’t wait to yell at you.” Luke quipped, snorting softly as you glared down at him.

”I’m serious!” You huffed exhaustedly, already tired just from thinking of how too begin your story without revealing too much. “So you remember when uh, someone followed me home from-“

”Please don’t.” Luke sighed, reaching up to squeeze your upper arm. “Babe, I thought you moved past that.”

”Would you shut up and just listen to me?” You grumbled a bit louder than intended, though it seemed to startle Luke into obeying. “Someone did follow me home. I promise. I swear I’m not crazy.” You said almost pleadingly.

”It’s not… not as bad as it sounds okay? Just hear me out.” You looked down and saw Luke was obviously conflicted. Part of him wanted to stop you right there and call Anakin to come get you and the other really wanted to trust you on this.

”I’m listening.” He agreed begrudgingly, nodding for you to continue your tale.

“I lied.” You whispered, hoping, praying, that this lie would come to as naturally as all the others you’d told since then. “I lied and I’ve been lying ever since.”

”So there wasn’t someone following you?” Luke asked confusedly, his eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

”There was but I… I knew him.” You said, looking away but reminding yourself that Luke of all people would know if you were lying simply by watching your mannerisms. “I lied cause I knew him and things were going- are going so well with Anakin.”

”I told Anakin I loved him.” You said in a softer but no less anxious.

”What? Oh my god that’s great news! Oh god I owe Lauren so much money.” Luke’s words started off strong but ended in a bit of an astonished dissatisfaction.

”Please would you stop betting on my love life?!” You scoffed smacking his shoulder before grabbing it and holding him in place. “I’m serious okay? But you shouldn’t be so happy. Not until you hear everything.” You sighed, rubbing your face.

”I need you to hep me Lukey. Please?” You asked, leaning forward to implore him. “I’ve messed up so bad.”

”You’ve been cheating on Anakin? Haven’t you?” He asked, standing up abruptly to putting one hand on his hip and the other in a fist on his forehead. “ What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked quietly.

”A lot.” You whispered, ‘if only you knew.’ You thought.

”S-so what do you need my help with, huh? Covering for you?” Luke asked in exhaustion, looking at you with an expression you’d never seen before. You’d seen him angry, you’d seen him disappointed, but this was much different.

”No, no not at all.” You whispered, swallowing and looking away from his glaring eyes. “No, I’d never ask you to do something like that I was-“

”Good. Because I like Anakin. He’s good to you, he makes you happy. He loves you. This is the only boyfriend you’ve ever had that I have thought highly of and I will not lie to him.” Luke said sternly, his tone so sharp and serious that it caused you to jump in surprise, readjusting your seated position.

”So you need my help telling him about your adulterous behavior then?” He continued, his lips pursed as he looked down his nose at you.

”No. I need you to tell me how to get rid of the other guy. Just… delicately, he’s very uh, touchy?” You said in an unsure manner, unable to convert the meaning you wanted to without using much stronger, more terrifying descriptor.

“Oh really?” Luke huffed. “He’s touchy? What about Anakin, huh?”

”I-I know Luke! I know that!” You stood up and started pacing nervously.

“You think he won’t fucking kill this guy over you? Cause he will. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Luke said in a low tone, walking over to you with a purpose. “Drop this other guy. Obviously he’s so unimportant that I have never even heard of him until you needed my help for damage control!”

“Luke, no it’s…” You whispered, shaking out your hands anxiously. Luke had never ever yelled at you like this and he was surprisingly intimidating. “It’s complicated and I… I’m so sorry.”

”You’re sorry? You’re saying sorry to me?” Luke laughed in contempt. “I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to.”

”Lukey I’m trying okay? I’m trying to fix this.” You said, nearly in tears. You hadn’t expected this kind of reaction at all. It was not at all as easy to take this side of the conversation as it was to dole it out during Luke’s fuckboy days.

”I love you. I care about you, I want the best for you and the very first time you’re close to making the right decisions… you’ve fucked it up.” Luke scoffed, shaking his head.

”I came to you because you are my best friend and I trust you.” You yelled back. “I’ve been there for you when you were in my position-“

”Don’t remind me okay?” Luke said, his voice falling flat. “I understand, of course I do. But I found Han and I am never going back to that because he is my person. Isn’t Anakin meant to be your person?”

”Yes.” You nodded sadly, feeling a sense of shame that ran so deeply within your soul that it was nearly suffocating.

”So do what you’re supposed to do.” Luke said sharply, pointing you toward the door. “Don’t come back until you have proof you’ve driven this asshat off the bridge.”

September 28th

Anakin nervously paced the waiting room for what felt like the hundredth time since you’d arrived; he’d sit, stand, stretch, walk, repeat. You wondered if he was like this at every appointment or if it was because you were present at such a sensitive one, even if you were only going to wait outside.

”Ani, please come sit.” You sighed, patting the stiff and uncomfortable chair beside yours.

”I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” He said, refusing to sit but at least returning to your side to stand in front of you, holding both your hands and rocking from the ball of his feet to his heel.

”It’s alright, just take a breath. You already know your doctor, so it shouldn’t be much different from all the other times, right?” You said, trying to reassure him.

”I know, I know.” He nodded, finally deciding to plop himself down beside you, sinking low in his chair to slump and lean his head back against the wall with his hands folded on his stomach.

“Skywalker?” A feminine voice rang out through the waiting room, a younger woman had appeared in the doorway that lead back to the various offices of the therapists and psychiatrists.

”You’re not my doctor.” Anakin said, standing up and shooting you a panicked look.

”No, I’m here to do your intake.” She gave a polite smile and waved him forward. “You’ll be back with Dr. Richardson for your next appointment. It’s policy to go through an intake when a client has taken a hiatus from treatment.”

”You’re a psychiatrist?” Anakin looked her over suspiciously, giving you another worried uptick of his eyebrows after he’d assessed her. “I don’t- I don’t want a lady doctor.” He said quietly to you.

“It’s just for one appointment Ani, it’ll be alright.” You said as you gave him a light squeeze to his hand. “I’m sure she’s great.”

”No, you don’t understand I-“ Anakin was cut off by the woman calling for him again, looking at him with a bit of confusion as she tried to determine why he was acting so oddly.

”Is there a problem?” She asked when Anakin finally complied and began following her down the hallway, leaving you with once last look over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.

”Isn’t there anyone else to do my intake?” He asked, fiddling with the chunky rings on his fingers.

”No, it’s just me.” She responded, pushing open her office door and letting Anakin walk through first. “I’m Dr. Amidala, but you can call me Padmé If you prefer.”

Anakin scoffed, taking in the scenery of her office. She was very clearly the type of woman who thought highly of herself, exactly why Anakin did not trust her in the slightest to provide him with proper care for his condition, perhaps not even just to take the notes she’d be taking to hand over to Dr. Richardson. She had a picture of herself in front of her college framed in a shadow box along with her diploma, the room was decorated in ugly neutral colors, the occasional splash of green from a potted plant, and an essential oil diffuser that Anakin knew would leave him with a headache by the end of the session.

”How long have you been practicing?” Anakin asked, sitting down in the large squishy leather chair designated for clients while she took her place behind her desk and computer.

“Two years.” She responded, presumably pulling up Anakin’s previous medical history, which Anakin believed to be a bit unprofessional. She should’ve already read up on him before the appointment.

”Great.” He sighed, new psychiatrists always seemed so intimidated by him and his diagnosis and it was already uncomfortable enough for him considering this pretentious lady wasn’t his doctor.

“Feeling anxious?” SHe asked him, looking away from her computer screen for a moment. “I understand that, it can be int-“

”I’m not intimidated by you. I’m irritated because no one thought to mention this little change in policy.” Anakin cut her off and it seemed to startle the woman slightly, due to the abrasive nature of his tone.

”Right, well I appreciate your honesty.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Let me tell you a bit about myself, perhaps it’ll make you a bit more comfortable.” She offered.

”I’m only seeing you once, right?” Anakin asked, crossing his arms and sinking down into his seat.

”Yes that’s correct.” She nodded, typing on her keyboard as she spoke.

”Then I don’t need to know anything about you.” Anakin said plainly, receiving a curious ‘hmm’ in response.

”Well lets jump right into the meat of it then,” She sai, spinning in her chair and taking the keyboard with her to type while being able to glance up at Anakin when she needed to. “Why did you decide to stop attending your appointments with Dr. Richardson?”

”Because I didn’t feel like I needed to keep going. I don’t need therapy, I just need my medicine.” He sighed.

”Well, that brings me to my next question then.” She stated, opening her mouth to speak again.

”I didn’t pick up my meds because I was out of town at the time and I had forgotten to call ahead.” He interrupted as he anticipated her next inquiry. “CVS put my meds back up because I didn’t get there to pick it up in time and then I kind of just decided maybe I’d be fine without it, but I’m not.”

”What makes you think that?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.

”I’ve been quick to irritation and anger, having arguments with my girlfriends over stupid shit. Not her fault though, mine.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “I just need my pills and I’ll be back to my normal self.” He added.

”WHy did you wait so long before calling for an appointment when you know it’s legally mandated for you to keep up with these treatments?” She asked, typing rapidly.

”My girl didn’t know I took any meds, she didn’t know I saw a shrink.” He said, quickly speaking again before Padmé had the opportunity to pose a follow up question. “She didn’t know because it’s not something she should be concerned about, my diagnosis has never affected our relationship up till now so it didn’t seem like I needed to mention it until I was ready to.”

”Your girlfriend, is she in the waiting room?” She asked, getting a simple nod in response. “Why didn’t she come back with us?”

“Because it’s private information and not anything she needs to hear.” He snapped, obviously feeling defensive of where this lady doctor was going with this line of questioning. “She’s sensitive and I don’t believe my past is appropriate for us to discuss.”

“Is that why you were hesitant to speak with-“

”With you? Yes, I don’t think women should be in this field of work.” He said firmly, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. “Other patients with my kind of history can be volatile. It’s not safe.”

”You say ‘your kind of history’ and ‘other patients’. What do you mean by that?” She asked, quickly typing as Anakin spoke over her.

”My kind of history as in criminal history.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Did you not read my file? There’s a reason this shit is court mandated. I might be reformed but that doesn’t mean that everyone who keeps up with their treatments are.”

”I see, so you are ‘reformed’? In your opinion?” SHe asked skeptically.

”You really didn’t read up on me did you?” He scoffed. “I am reformed. I’m a productive member of society, I have a stable job, I have a stable relationship with a woman I love, I have a friend group, I have my own place, I’m in control of my finances. I’m doing better than most regular people.”

“Not to mention I haven’t had a single run in with police or law enforcement of any kind since before my time at the state school.” He added proudly.

”No run-ins? Does that mean you’ve still been committing petty crimes, just not-“

”No absolutely not. Don’t twist my words.” He snipped at her, cutting her off before she could finish the offending question.

”I’d appreciate if you’d allow me to finish speaking from now on.” She said politely even though she was off-put by his behavior and agrees I’ve speech.

”I’d appreciate if you’d not judge me based on other’s behavior. Like I said, I’ve been reformed. I just need my prescription.” He sighed, trying to reign in his attitude. He’d noticed the way she was furiously typing and it worried him.

”Then lets finish this quickly, yes?” She said plainly. “I assume you’re well versed in the mandatory questions.”

”Yes.” Anakin nodded, clasping his hands in his lap. “My sleep schedule remains unchanged, I’m a bartender so I get to bed late but I get plenty of sleep. Little to no anxiety when I’m regularly taking my pills, no suicidal thoughts so long as I’m taking my meds either.” He continued listing off his memorized answers to the same damn monotonous questions he’d come to expect and when he finished, he stood as though ready to leave her office.

”I’m sorry, just a few more things Anakin.” She said, not looking up from her typing. “It’s concerning to me that’s you’ve failed to share your past to it’s full extent with your partner. Don’t you think it could cause future problems if you continue to hid this from her?”

”I don’t think that’s any of your business. If I decide to tell her anything, it’ll be on my own time, not because some bi-“ He took a deep breath and stopped himself before saying something he couldn’t retract. “I will share it with her when I’m ready. She will handle it well I’m sure, considering she’s taken this with grace so far.”

”How long have you been in this stable relationship and is this your first serious commitment?” SHe asked, still typing before she switched over to her mouse and scrolled. “I’m not seeing any mention of former partners.”

”Unoffically we’ve been together almost a year.” He said with a slight hint of a smile, “But officially its just been close to six months or something.” He said before adding: “Yes she is my first real girlfriend, I’m fully committed. I plan on marrying her.”

“Well congrats then.” She said with a small smile, happy to see that at least one thing seemed to consistently bring him joy. Even if it was slightly concerning. “I assume you live together?”

”No, but basically. I’m her neighbor. We live in the same apartment complex, I’m right across the hall from her. That’s how we met.” He nodded, his mood lifting considerably and she made a point to note that.

”Have you put any thought into why this is your first committed relationship?” She asked.

”I was waiting for the right person and I found her.” He said simply with a firm nod and smile.

“If in the event this relationship doesn’t pan out the way you believe it will, what would you do?” She asked, fingers poised to type.

”That’s not going to happen.” Anakin said sharply, gripping the arms of his chair tightly. “This isn’t a therapy appointment, you’re meant to focus on my life currently and my medicine management. You’re not my doctor and you’re certainly not entitled to ask these types of questions.”

”I understand, perhaps I should’ve explained. I’m asking simply because it’s important to see how you react to inavasive questions while you’re unmedicated. Dr. Richardson mentioned you seem very defensive and-“

”And what? You couldn’t have asked me that question directly?” Anakin asked, annoyedly.

”Well in most other cases I would, but it’s been noted that you are a chronic liar.” She stated plainly, turning her computer screen toward him and highlighting the note previously made by Dr. Richardson.

”I want a copy of my full medical history.” Anakin said with clear irritation at the fact he’d been called out so efficiently. “Notes, previous prescriptions, all of it.”

”You’ll have to sign a release of information form.” She said, pulling out a stapled packet from a filling cabinet and handing it over to him with a pen and clipboard. He quickly signed and slapped the clipboard back onto her desk before she handed him another one. “I assume you meant full history as in your records from your time in the state school as well, That requires a serperate form if you’d like for us to collect those files for you as well.”

”Fine, whatever.” He huffed, scribbling in the designated spots that had been pre-highlighted. He tossed the pen down when he was finished and was relieved to see the doctor stand and collect the freshly signed paperwork.

”Follow me please, I’ll drop these off with the receptionist.” She said, ushering him through the door and back down the hallway to the waiting room. She stopped, handing over the paperwork and watching as it was faxed and filed as it should be. “Your patient file for your treatment here will be ready by the end of the day, I’ll send in the script for your meds immediately, the pharmacy should call within a few hours. Dr. Richardson will contact you with the information for your next appointment.”

She skirted around Anakin and approached you with her hand out, standing up, you met her halfway and shook her hand, introducing yourself.

”I always like to get in a few questions with the family if I’m able, would you be willing to come back to my office with me?” SHe asked, her voice friendly and sweet.

”Oh I don’t mind it’s just-“ You started but Anakin stepped in, putting a gentle hand on the small of your back.

”You don’t have to, it’s not mandatory right?” He asked.

”No of course not, it’s just beneficial to get opinions from all involved.” She smiled reassuringly. “It’s common practice in the mental health field.”

”I’m not comfortable with her going back to your office alone, if you’ve got questions for her, I want to be there.” Anakin said firmly, looking down at you in hopes you’d agree with him.

”I usually like to take family back alone for privacy reasons.” She said apologetically.

”Well, if Anakin’s uncomfortable and its not mandatory then I-I’d rather not, if that’s alright.” You said, giving Anakin a small smile to show you were on his side. It was his appointment after all.

”Of course, it’s no problem.” She smiled, bidding you both goodbye before she turned on her heel and click-clacked her way back to her office.

”What was that all about?” You whispered as Anakin opened the door and led you out into the parking lot.

”Hell if I know. I didn’t like the bitch and I’m glad I’ll never have to see her again. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” He huffed, helping you into your side of his car and shutting the door for you. “I sent in a records request for all my notes n’ shit. I didn’t like the way she was looking at me when she was talking and typing. Dr. Richardson never typed that much during our appointments.” He muttered, starting up the car and backing out.

”You wanna get some lunch? Before we go shopping?” You asked, trying to take his mind off what was clearly a stressful appointment for him.

“Absolutely princess, I’m fucking starved.” He said, reaching over to squeeze the back of your neck gently while he kept his other hand on the wheel.

Diary Entry: September 28th

I’ve been livid and trying my very best to suppress it. That fucking bitch and what she wrote about me was ridiculous. I don’t give a flying fuck if she thinks any of it is true.

Dr. Richardson is a truthworthy guy. I’ve seen him for years and I’m pissed off he’s went and ruined my day by letting this idiot do my intake. Why the hell would I need to do an intake anyway considering I’ve been a patient of his since I graduated? What new information could he have possibly needed? Stupid. It’s fucking stupid.

After we left she continued with her notes, even knowing I would be reading them very, very soon because you bet your ass I went and picked that shit up the moment I got the call it was waiting for me. The audacity she had was staggering. Calling me controlling and aggressive? I’m sorry? In what way was I controlling? Where’d she get the gall to say that about me? I don’t control you.

She��s just not used to a man telling her what to do and how things are gonna be. She’s not like you. She’s exactly the type of woman that needs someone to knock her down a few notches.

I just can’t imagine how she’s kept her job this long, or how she even fucking graduated. I even looked up her college and through the class list for her major and it’s honestly shocking someone so stupid could keep a high enough GPA to graduate. She had to have been fucking several of her professors.

No wonder she was so unprofessional, she doesn’t even have a fucking profession. She’s got a useless piece of paper and a shit attitude that she thinks makes her better than me. This is exactly why I hate seeing women as a doctor. All of them. Mental health or the fucking dentist, I don’t care.

I mean, I’d prefer you not work at all. But at least you have a job meant for ladies. You’re a waitress, that’s perfect for you. Your sweetness, the pretty smile, the cute caretaker instincts you’ve got.

This girl though? Someone ought to shove her behind the desk to replace the receptionist. She’s in no way capable of doing her job accurately. She was too busy thinking about shit that didn’t even matter. I just needed my fucking medicine. I didn’t need her to tell me I’m a chronic liar. How dare she? So what if it’s true? Or at least used to be. I don’t technically lie very much anymore I just omit the truth. No harm done.

If I wasn’t so opposed to killing women I might just find her house and snap her neck. But that would be unfair, I’m stronger, bigger. She’d have no chance. At least with men I’m sometimes, rarely, occasionally: equally matched. If they’re not as fit as me it’s not my problem, it’s theirs for not being able to perform a basic masculine task.

So I’ll just visualize it over and over again until I get tired of hearing that imaginary crunch and squeak.

October 4th

After the intital miffed attitude from his upset at the doctors office, he had slowly calmed after getting some much needed food in his belly. Almost like a cranky toddler, sometimes he just needed a yummy snack and a smooch to get him back on track or at least back to his ‘normal’ unregulated behavior. Though you skipped your trip to the mall for your shopping trip, rescheduling for later in the week after he had time to readjust. Halloween was a month away after all, costumes could wait.

His records were printed much quicker than you expected, especially after seeing the size of the stack. You knew he saw a therapist as a child so you assumed it was his complete history, including regular doctors as well, not just mental health files. It had to have been almost two inches thick and held together by three large binder clips. Atop the stack was a blank sheet of paper, save for his name, presumably for privacy reasons. Unfortunately for you that meant you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of it before he shoved it into the dash of his car and locked it away.

It seems the doctor was good for getting his prescription filled in an expedited manner, considering it only took two hours when you expected it would be late afternoon before the pharmacy called. You couldn’t help but wonder about what had happened behind those doors, what he’d said, what she had said; to make him so agitated. You assumed whatever was said had caused her to put a rush on his prescription refill.

The very moment he was handed the bag through the drive through window he shoved it into his door pocket to avoid you seeing the medicine’s names and doses. It made you feel like he might not trust you fully, considering how oddly he was acting about it. What kind of pill did he take that he’d assume you didn’t need to know about? It was all very frustrating though you tried your best to support him through the ordeal in the hopes that he’d share more when he was back on his medication.

He hadn’t yet, despite the quick turnaround. It’s been a week and his mood has finally stabilized and he’s back to his doting, loving, caring and helpful self. You didn’t realize how much he’d truly changed during the short period of time he was unmedicated, but after witnessing his improvement it was quite clear. You though often over those days about the conversation you’d had with his mother all that time ago. The look she’d given you, thinking it was so strange of her to have acted that way when thinking back on Anakin’s childhood… but now you began to understand he must’ve been more than a handful during his younger years. Piling on the stress of growing up, school, friends, it must’ve been nerve wracking to raise him.

His teasing comments and sly looks had returned with fervor, his touchy, wandering hands felt you as often as they could, his lips met yours during every lull in conversation, every quiet moment and tender embrace. Your boyfriend had returned to you and you wanted to make sure he never, ever went away again. Not for your benefit, but for his. Yes of course you’d prefer him to be this way, but seeing him suffer like he had been was just awful. Pulling on your heartstrings in the worst way, even as he was getting used to the medication again. He’d complain of headaches and being tired, needing extra comfort and love that you happily handed over without a qualm at all.

Now you sat in a heap on his lap, his hands in your hair and his lips gracing your bare shoulder with soft occasional kisses, resting his cheek there in between them. He’d been glued to you for hours now, like he had been touch starved or perhaps finally realizing just how distant the two of you had been recently. It was a wonderful feeling to be back in the swing of things, back to your normal, happy time together.

“What do you wanna watch next?” He asked quietly, twisting a lock of your hair between his forefinger and thumb, brushing the end across your cheek to grab your attention. “Movie’s almost over.”

“How do you know?” You asked, turning to look at him and scoot more comfortably to nestle yourself between his legs that were propped up on the footrest of the couch, a pillow behind your back to cushion you against the armrest.

“I’ve watched this movie a billion times.” He grinned, sighing as he moved to rub his arm and pull up his short short sleeve to point out a tattoo that you’d seen so many times but never really thought much about. “It’s from the movie.” He chuckled, watching you trace the words ‘Run Rabbit’ in his ink. “You didn’t notice?”

“No I guess I didn’t really connect the dots.” You admitted with a small, bashful smile at your lack of awareness. “You really like this movie that much?” You laughed.

“Hell yeah I do. Love Rob Zombie, I wish he’d make some more movies honestly.” He said with a nod, pointing to the screen and hushing you playfully. “Watch.” He grinned.

You did just that, turning your attention to the screen as Baby repeatedly stabbed one of the poor girls in the movie, over and over again until she finally sputtered and fell silent. As if it couldn’t get gross enough, Baby licked the knife clean.

“Oh nasty.” You laughed, making a gagging noise even as you remembered doing the very same for Ghost, it wasn’t gross then, certainly not gross now… it made you- no. He’s not speaking to you. You don’t miss him.

“You know, that’s his wife in real life.” Anakin said matter of factly as he gestured to the character.

“Who’s wife? Rob Zombie?” You asked to clarify.

“Yep, Baby’s his wife.” Anakin nodded, reaching over to grab the neck of his beer bottle and chug the remain few gulps before sitting it back down with a clunk. “I suppose you could say she’s his muse.” He added, for a moment you thought you saw his lip curve up.

“That’s… kind of sweet I guess.” You said with a slight laugh, grabbing a few chips but returning them to the bag as you caught a glimpse of a half eaten body on screen.

“Squeamish?” He teased, nipping your neck and poking you in the ribs to make you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I can’t munch on my salty snack while watching a man being devoured.” You snorted.

“Well I can, hand ‘em over.” He laughed, making grabby-hands toward the chip bag just out of his reach. He crunched them loudly on purpose just to try and annoy you, but it honestly wasn’t so bad considering the horrid stench you imagined would be suffocating the girl on screen as she waded through maggot infested sludge.

“You never answered my question sweetheart.” He reminded you, feeding you a chip.

“I don’t care, you pick.” You said with a shrug, chewing with your hand covering your mouth.

“Paranormal, slasher, thriller, monsters… what? At least give me that.” He chuckled wiping his hands off on a paper towel he’d stashed on the side table.

“Slasher.” You said without much thought, taking the chip bag back and rolling it up to set it aside.

“Let’s go with a classic.” He hummed, grabbing the remote as the credits rolled. “Been a while since I’ve seen Scream.”

Part Nineteen

Tag-List:

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THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Girls' Trip (Plus Tim)

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!reader

Summary: You and Lucy go on a road trip together, but Tim crashes your girls' weekend when the car breaks down.

Warning: just fluff, the car breaks down but Lucy + r are safe

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest (this is Tim when Lucy doesn't invite him😂)

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tim says as he clips Kojo’s leash to his collar.

“No, you won’t,” you remind him softly. “Lucy and I are going out of town for the weekend, remember?”

“Right,” Tim agrees skeptically. “Because you and Lucy alone for a whole weekend sounds like something you’d do.”

“Yeah, she’s picking me up in the morning.”

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” You nod, and Tim gently lifts your chin to meet your eyes. “Anything at all.”

“I will.”

Kojo licks your hand in farewell and wags his tail as he follows Tim outside. You release a breath before you walk to your room to double-check that everything you need for the weekend is in your bag.

“Good morning!’ Lucy cheers when you step outside. “This is going to be so much fun! Our first girls’ trip!”

You smile at her enthusiasm and try to fight off your building shyness. Since you started dating Tim, Lucy has become one of your closest friends, but her outgoing attitude can bring out your shy side.

“Okay, get comfortable, but not too comfortable,” Lucy says as you walk toward the car. “We’re stopping before we get far to load up on snacks. We have to get essentials.”

“Sounds good,” you reply as you buckle your seatbelt.

As Lucy reverses out of the driveway, you text Tim to let him know that you’re leaving, you love him, and you will see him and Kojo when you get back.

“Hey, since you have your phone out, you can control the music for now. Partly because we need good music for a girls’ trip, but I also don’t want to accidentally wear you out by talking the whole drive.”

“Have you had coffee already?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“You and Tim both do that,” she points out. “But, yes, I needed to make sure I had the energy to get us all the way there and then make our spa appointment.”

“Thanks for planning everything,” you say before turning on a playlist with songs you and Lucy both like.

“Of course, that’s what best friends and future maids of honor are for,” Lucy answers.

After a quick stop for snacks, you get on the interstate to begin the several-hour road trip to the resort Lucy reserved for you. The trip seemed last minute to you, but you found out after she invited you that Lucy wanted to get to know you more and ran everything by Tim as she planned the weekend. Having a friend like Lucy is a big step for you, but you already love her and think she is maid of honor material. If you and Tim get there, and you aren't too shy to say yes when he asks, of course.

“Okay, so I was thinking,” Lucy begins before she trails off and looks at the gauges on the dash.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

“Something feels weird. We have gas and the temperature is okay, but it doesn’t usually feel like this. I’m going to get off at the next exit.”

You alert her to the upcoming exit and give her directions to a nearby truck stop. Tim taught you the importance of stopping somewhere safe no matter where you are or what you’re doing, and you unconsciously follow his advice today.

“It won’t go back in drive,” Lucy laments as she fiddles with the gear shift.

“Do you want me to call Tim? We’re still pretty close,” you offer.

“He’ll kill me for this,” Lucy whispers before she says, “Please.”

You pull your phone out as Lucy turns the ignition off. Tim answers immediately, and before you finish telling him what happened, he is in his car and asking for the address of the truck stop. He tells you to stay with Lucy and in the car, for the fifteen minutes it will take him to get there, and he ends the call.

“He said he’ll be here in fifteen,” you tell Lucy.

“That means he’s bringing a shop and acting like it’s a code 3 emergency,” she muses with a smile.

“He treats most things like they are, especially if I’m involved.”

“He loves you,” Lucy says. “A ton.”

Tim’s shop pulls up beside your door, and Tim surveys the area before he gestures for you to open the door.

“Nice job picking a safe location, Lucy,” he says as he hugs you.

“Oh, that wasn’t me.”

Tim winks at you before he rounds the car to pop the hood. You watch him as Lucy tells him what happened. He looks good, you think, though he almost always does. He’s still in civvies, so when he bends over the front of the car, you don’t worry about him messing up his uniform. Lucy chuckles beside you, and you look away from Tim quickly.

“What?” you ask her.

“Nothing, you’re just staring at him. It’s cute, like Sam in Transformers.”

“Wouldn’t that make me the girl?” Tim calls.

“How did he hear that?” you murmur to Lucy.

“I’ve been dating you, my hearing improved,” he jokes as he stands. “Try it now, Lucy.”

Lucy gets in the driver’s seat and turns over the ignition. It shifts smoothly into drive before she places it back in park and thanks Tim from her seat.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” you say as he closes the hood.

“Of course. I want to follow you for a few minutes to make sure it keeps running okay. It looked like it was just the transmission fluid,” he explains.

“No!” Lucy calls, leaning over the console. “You can’t crash girls’ weekend! You get her all week; I want a turn.”

“I’m not crashing anything, Chen,” he explains, shifting into his grumpy TO voice. “I want to make sure you get to the county line, if that’s okay with you. Or do you want to break down somewhere there isn’t a well-lit truck stop?”

Lucy huffs but waves anyway. Tim kisses your head and opens the passenger door so you can join Lucy. As she pulls out, Tim follows her and stays close as you get farther from LA. Half an hour later, you get a text from Tim that he’s turning back, and you promise to call him if anything else happens. His responding text that he’ll miss your voice makes you look away from your phone like it’s him. Hopefully, he won’t manage to make you shy all weekend from several hundred miles away.

“And we’re free,” Lucy muses as she watches Tim exit in her rearview mirror. “Does he always make you that shy?”

“Usually,” you answer.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have me then. I can protect you from his vicious onslaughts of attention.”

You laugh at Lucy’s phrasing, and then you both yell together when you see a billboard for a homemade candy and ice cream store at the next exit. Despite your delay and Tim temporarily crashing your girls’ weekend, you and Lucy are already having a great time. By the end of your trip, you may have a maid of honor for a wedding you haven’t even thought about.

Bonus:

Tim walks into the bullpen and sighs. He misses you already, and the velvet box hidden in his nightstand has been on his mind more the past few days.

“You miss her,” Angela accuses when she sees him.

“Of course I do, she’s not as annoying as the rest of you,” Tim replies.

“That’s why you started dating a shy girl? So she wouldn’t talk as much as the rest of us? That’s messed up, Timothy.”

“Well, if that's how you feel,” Tim begins before pausing. “I guess I’ll ask someone else to help me plan the proposal.”

“I’m sorry,” Angela says while she reaches out to grab Tim’s sleeve. “Let me help, it will be perfect.”

“We have to one up girls’ weekend,” Tim points out.

“Trust me, we will.”

[trender-official]

do you have any general ideas for what a yandere jayce talis x reader would be like

i have MANY thoughts about this. first of all i don’t think jayce would ever know he’s yandere. and i don’t think you’d recognize it at first either!! i think he’d be very protective after the attack on the council but not so much before hand. i think he’d be very trusting of you, honestly. i don’t think he’d ever be scared of you leaving more so of you being TAKEN. i’ll give some specifics bellow the cut

let’s start off with you and him in a viktor type scenario

you’re lab partners

i think this is where he would trust you the most

he knows you’re not scheming or anything like that

he genuinely believes you would never turn your back on him

(which means if you do it gets… bad. only time he’d get violent)

you’d likely be spending most of your time together early on(pre councilor jayce)

so he doesn’t feel the need to worry!

but after…

oh boy.

he would station guards outside your lab… just in case

one with you when you go to lunch too

ESPECIALLY if you’re publicly together

he would definitely not let you go anywhere by yourself

he would usually listen to you on matters, except when it came to hextech in weapons

he wouldn’t give a fuck lol

he’d have too much at stake

he’d definitely use his status on the council to manipulate you (not that he knows that’s what he’s doing)

he’d tell you “it would be so easy for people to target you without enforcers there! they’d do anything to get to me”

and you honestly can’t argue

which is what starts to sow anger in you

because your so used to being able to argue with him and that being your means of communication

but he’d just have so much power over you

you wouldn’t be equals anymore (not that he’d see that)

now if you were in mel’s position

i think he’d be a lot more protective and a lot less trusting

he’d definitely feel intimidated by your power and work to undermine that a lot

this is the only time i can imagine him using his physical strength to overpower you

it makes him feel better about himself

he’d probably try to force you to retire

especially after the attack

not because he thinks your incompetent!

but because he’s scared for you

he doesn’t even think HE should be a councilor after that LOL

he would probably try to bribe your guards for info on what you’re doing

just to keep tabs

he’d probably try to distract you from arguments with affection too

because he doesn’t like to argue with you anymore

he doesn’t want to be forced to see that you’re equals

even though he’d never admit if you weren’t

he’d probably want to take the relationship more public

so he could guilt you with it

because it would make you look bad if you broke up!!

very centered on looks in this scenario

he’d def dress you up a lot

very gilded cage core

would want to be married super quick

and have kids(if ur able ofc)

you have to continue great minds!!

anyway i think this one is worse

to say the least

either way, jayce is honestly not the worst yandere to end up with!! he’s probably the best in arcane at least.

[bowsellie]

say it once again with feeling

i’ll forget you, but i’ll never forgive

warnings/info: smut (mdni) face sitting pussy eating scissoring all the goods, top!ellie bottom!r

angst, can be read as either ellie x reader or ellie x dina depending on your vibe, canon compliant, post-canon, mentions of unhealed/poorly healed injuries, alcohol, mentions of grief, reader has a child (jj durr) who is not actually present just mentioned I think that’s all :3

Been big into reading angst lately so here

—

You can only mourn someone for so long, you believed. Their memory would always be with you, yes, but the despair and pain and missing would have to be replaced with something better eventually. If you let it consume you, you couldn’t live on yourself.

This was a lot more difficult to stick to, however, when the person you were mourning may not actually be dead.

Since the night Ellie left, you forced yourself to imagine that she wouldn’t come back. You had to, or else you would hold out hope. And with that hope came a forgiveness you couldn’t afford to give. Nobody gets to ruin your life and leave you alone with a child you felt barely old enough to care for, not even the love of your life. So you imagined her dead—torn apart by clickers, by Abby, by her own refusal to care for herself—and convinced yourself to mourn her death and not her leaving. It felt easier that way.

Since packing up your belongings and your baby and your sheep and moving back to Jackson, you had to constantly remind yourself to not look around each room for her. To not expect her to walk through the door. To not hope that she was alive, and worse, here.

It was a hard habit to break, and your head still perked up every time the door to the Tipsy Bison opened. Especially after a few drinks, like the Friday night you sat at the bar downing tequila shot after tequila shot. JJ was with his grandparents for the weekend and you needed something to fill the silence in the small house you shared with him, something burning.

You must have had too much to drink tonight, because you looked up at the next door creak and swore you actually saw her.

Blinking once, twice, looking away then looking back, the apparition didn’t disappear. In fact, it met its green eyes with yours and began to approach. Her hair was shorter and shittily chopped, her face was scabbed in multiple new places, and her gait was limping as the Ellie-like figure came closer and seemed to becoming more realistic. She sat down in the empty barstool next to you, grunting with the effort but otherwise saying nothing. You, still looking away and back as if to clear your vision, muttered a slurred “holy shit”.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said. Her voice was rougher than you remembered, like she hadn’t used it in weeks or had been screaming until the cords fried.

“Holy shit,” you responded.

“I need…we need to talk,” Ellie said, not quite looking at you. She played with her hands, ghosting the fingers of her right hand over an empty spot where her left hand should mirror.

You breathed in sharply, noticing the absence. “Holy shit.”

“Can I take you home?”

The delay in your brain finally caught up to the situation, a million possible words and responses stumbling over themselves until you could say something—anything—that made sense.

“Fuck. No.” You pushed the empty shot glass to rest on top of the plastic part of the bar farther from you and stood up hastily, catching yourself on the barstool as alcohol rushed to your head and made you stumble.

Ellie matched in urgency and elegance, stumbling herself from whatever was affecting her walk on the way in. “Please. I fucked up, so bad, I at least need to say it.”

“You said it,” you snapped back, shoving your way to the door, “now go away and leave me alone.”

“You’re pissed, you should be. I fucked up so bad. Please, let me, I don’t know,” she rambled, trailing behind you.

You shoved the doors open, not caring to hold them on your way out despite Ellie following close behind.

“Please,” she said, again, her voice breaking.

You whipped around to face her. “Please what, Ellie? You’re dead to me. Literally. I can’t—I didn’t—I had to—you’re not. This isn’t a possibility for me. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“But I’m not.”

“But you are. You have been for the last however many months. You don’t get to come here and tell me how you killed Abby and got your fucking revenge and can actually care about me instead of letting me be the second most important person to you. You don’t get to make me forgive you for ruining my life. You ruined my fucking life! You left me, mourning everyone who ever meant fucking anything to me, with a fucking CHILD, and if I don’t believe you’re dead then I have to hate you. I fucking hate you. I fucking HATE you, Ellie!”

Somewhere you had begun to cry, hard and hot and wet. The tears choked you as they rain down your face, and you half hunched over as your stomach clenched with the devastating waves of emotion you were feeling. It was like reliving everything all over again.

And still, she looked at you with her green eyes and the line between her eyebrows that you knew like your own face.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

“Yeah. You should be,” you choked out. Forcing yourself to stand and taking hyperventilating breaths, you turned and started to walk home.

“At least let me make sure you get home safe. Please. We don’t need to talk about it, I just…I’m sorry. Please,” Ellie said. Her own voice was thicker now, the words barely rasping out.

You shook your head, but didn’t turn her away when she began walking with you. You made your way home nearly in silence, except for the crunch of two pairs of shoes and your gasps between tears that wouldn’t stop.

When you approached the porch of the apartments you were living in, you turned to Ellie. You couldn’t get rid of her soon enough. And yet, having her presence with you when you’d adjusted to never feeling it again…you couldn’t let it go yet.

You walked up the porch, fumbling with your keys from your pocket and unlocking the door after a few attempts. You pushed open the door, and turned back to the pitiful looking girl behind you. Everything you felt, minus the anger, was mirrored on her face. Sadness, longing, and a love that had been forced away.

“Come in, then. I don’t fucking care,” you said, holding the door for her.

Ellie scurried in, quickly removing her shoes at the door. Like she remembered you’d liked. Like she used to always do.

“Please don’t tell me those are the same goddamn converse you left in,” you said, scrunching your nose and she tucked in the laces.

“Not a lot of shoe stores in California, turns out,” Ellie said with something like a laugh. “I can stick them outside, if you want.”

You shook your head, removing your own shoes before heading up the creaky stairs. Ellie lingered at the bottom.

“There’s a toy on the left halfway up. Don’t trip on it,” you said, not turning around. Her footsteps began to follow yours.

In your bedroom, you began to get ready for bed. Ellie stood, watching, so still it was like she was afraid to move. Maybe she was, you thought. Maybe the delicacy you felt in the air was so tangible she was afraid to break it.

Finally, she breathed and spoke. “What do you—“

You cut her off quickly, looking in her eyes for the first time since coming into your house. One that, until now, had been free of her memory.

“Spend the night. Please. I can’t say goodbye to you again just,” you swallowed heavily, “just yet.”

Ellie nodded, soundlessly, and the both of you got into varying states of undress before turning off the lights and crawling into bed.

You turned your body, resting your head on her chest and breathing deeply. She stunk of outside, in a way that only Ellie could make you like. Her arm curled tentatively around your shoulders.

“Where’s JJ?” she whispered.

“With Jesse’s parents. They watch him every few weekends. They’ve really helped a lot,” you responded, just as quietly.

“How is he?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Good. He knows a few words. He walks, mostly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s really shitty at it so far—“

Ellie interrupted your sentence with a snort, causing you to giggle back. You twisted so you could see her face, and before you had time to reconsider, kissed her deeply.

She didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. For months, almost a year, you hadn’t been kissed this way. Like she needed you to breathe, like you needed her to live. Her hands fell to your hips, gripping until you felt fingertip shaped indents beginning to form.

“Ellie, ouch,” you breathed into her mouth, and she loosened her grip slightly. You were once again reminded of the missing digits, feeling their absence on your right side.

“Sorry. I need to feel that you’re real,” she said, kissing you again. Her hands stayed obediently on your hips, your waist, the proper places for them to be. But you needed more. Goddamn it, if you were going to indulge the fantasy of Ellie being back, you needed to indulge completely.

Breaking the kiss, you grabbed her hands and moved them down and back to grab your ass.

“Are you sure?” she asked, squeezing tentatively.

You nodded. “Please, Ellie. Don’t make me question it. Fuck me.”

She leaned up to kiss you again, more fervently than before as her hands kneaded your ass. Her hands began to move up, underneath your tshirt to cup your breasts, eliciting a sharp breath.

Ellie’s mouth opened again, likely to ask you if that was alright, but you silenced her with a kiss. The truth is, you didn’t know if it was alright. But you wanted it to be.

She flipped you over, moving low to remove your panties and bury her face in between your legs. She wasted no time licking thick stripes over your hole to your clit, dipping her tongue inside before moving it back upwards to flick the sensitive bud.

Ellie’s left hand snaked up to join her mouth, but she froze for a fraction of a second when nothing met your folds. Instead, she shoved the offending hand back underneath her body and brought up the right hand to slip in one, then two fingers.

It was less adept than it used to be, you thought. She wasn’t used to using this hand.

For what felt like hours, Ellie ate you out ravenously and without tiring. You squirmed, moaned, and pulled her hair, chasing an orgasm that kept seeming to run away at the last moment. After the third or fourth time of this, Ellie lifted her head away.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking a lot. Can I sit on your face instead?”

She nodded quickly, adjusting her body to lay in between the pillows as you positioned yourself on top of her. Sinking onto her open mouth, you ground down onto her waiting tongue. The change in position was exactly what you needed, and with Ellie’s tongue flicking over your clit, you felt the blood began to pool below your naval as your core tightened.

“Fuck. Please don’t stop. Please, just like that,” you gasped out. Ellie moaned in acknowledgement against you, the vibrations causing your orgasm to go crashing down. Your body convulsed on top of her, while her arms hooked around your thighs to hold you mostly in place. She gave three more long licks, causing you to twitch in overstimulation before swinging a leg over her and settling to lay down.

Ellie rolled over, using both arms to hold herself above your body as she kissed you. The heady taste of your own wet combined with the warm softness of her mouth had you spreading your legs once more, almost imperceptibly rolling your hips upward to ask for more.

Ellie smiled at you, in the way that always made you melt, and your stomach twisted. It would be so easy to fall in love with her again, you thought. To forgive her, to pretend it never happened.

She lifted off her sweatshirt and dirty tank top, revealing an angry red scar around her abdomen that was almost definitely infected. She slid out of her own underwear, looking at you for confirmation as she slid her legs over yours and slotted her pussy against your own.

In tandem, you both moaned as your hips began to move messily towards each other. The effect of your last orgasm combined with the twisting of your stomach at having Ellie here, right now, and before you knew it you were crying. Above you, Ellie sniffled. She was crying too.

Your motions against each other became more and more frantic as Ellie reached her orgasm above you. Nearly sobbing now, the pulsing of her pussy pushed you over the top into your own. Your moans grew louder and more incomprehensible, until the only thing you could shout was “I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

Ellie collapsed on top of you, both of you crying and sweaty. You didn’t kiss again. Like sweet nothings in her ear, you continued to mutter. “I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Ellie peeled her body off of yours, reclothing herself and throwing a blanket over your shaking body.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered back.

And for the second time in your life, Ellie walked out the door.

[kurishiri]

Mystery Bag 2025 ┊ Team 2: The trash bastards and the troubled fox

Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the mystery bag 2025 sale is a story set sale where the guys are put into teams and participate in a relay event thing. this is one of three teams (i love al too much to pass this by aa orz)! you can read the prologue, translated by @.judesmoonbeauty, here.

— cw: mentions of drugging or spiking drinks, bribing, and groping.

——Group 2 for the preliminary contest: Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica.

[SKY]

Steering committee: Then, we will begin the round for group 2.

Steering committee: Who will reach the goal first and emerge the happy boy for 2025?!

Steering committee: Let us go all out! Take your places, and…start!

[PARK - DAY]

Harrison: Oh, jeez, that was fast. So, why are you guys all standing there?

Alfons: Since the spectators are no longer in sight, so I figured if it was around now or so,

A: it would be a good time to drop this act of competing to the hardest and fullest.

Harrison: What? (O_O)

H: Or wait a minute, I’m pretty sure Al’s no exception; you guys are scheming something weird, aren’t you.

Jude: Who are ya gonna blame when ya don’t have a drop o’ evidence on ya? Way to make others out as the villain.

Nica: Agreed. I wouldn’t dream of scheming anything so bad in broad daylight, you know.

Harrison: Your lies are so damn obvious. I don’t even need to use my ability to figure that out.

H: If you all get caught, would you be alright getting disqualified?

Alfons: Oh, goodness, shiver me timbers. I’ll be honest, so hold your silence, alright?

A: I’m sure you’re aware there is a spot you can take a quick water break a bit up ahead, no?

A: I maaay or may not have pulled an ever so slight trick on the drinks.

A: Said trick being a sleeping drug that can knock one out immediately.

Harrison: You’re the worst.

Jude: Well, seems like somethin’ that walkin’ offense to public morals would pull outta his arse.

Alfons: And what of you?

Jude: Jus’ gave some money on a stick to the committee and told ‘em to tamper with the info and give us the win.

J: There’s been a wave o’ people, so it wouldn’t get outed.

Harrison: You’re no better.

Nica: I’d expect nothing less from the company president, dirtying your hands. Someone as well-bred as me could never.

Harrison: And? What’s up your sleeve?

Nica: Now don’t go lumping me together with that mirror man and president.

N: All I did was use my superior intellect and surveying skills. …Say, did you know?

N: This time, beneath the course there’s a sewer. One that’ll lead you right next to the goal.

N: So I was thinking of slipping underground, bide my time… and take first place.

Jude & Alfons: What a bastard. / Very much as low as trash.

Nica: You guys are the last ones I want to be called ‘trash bastards’ from.

Harrison: Damn, it’s trash bastards left and right.

H: So? What did you hope to gain from all this?

Alfons: Why of course, it’s to use Her Majesty’s authority to do this and that and aaall things in between.

Harrison: I was a fool for ever asking.

H: What about you, Jude?

Jude: Anythin’ goes. There’s a whole load o’ things I wanna do with the Queenie’s authority.

J: Well, I’d bet that bad guy over there would ask for somethin’ ridiculous.

Nica: As if. I’m just trying to earn what I very much love — money.

N: There’s never enough money to go around.

Harrison: If that’s what you really think, then I’ll leave it at that.

Nica: …Being able to pick up on lies, huh. You’ve got a troublesome ability on you, don’t you, Harrison Gray.

Harrison: They said abilities were forbidden. I’m just reading what you’re feeling.

Nica: You’re the only one who’ll ever know if you’re using your ability or not. I’d expect nothing less of the one Cursed by the Lying Fox.

Harrison: Thanks, I guess.

Nica: ——Anyway, what are we going to do from now on?

Alfons: Whatever could you mean?

Nica: I mean, seeing as we all revealed our hands, I can’t imagine this will end nice and smooth.

N: For the record, I’m fine with taking each other down. Since I don’t hold back against bastards and all.

Jude: Ha, I like the sound o’ that. The last one standin’ wins. Simple, clear-cut, n’ easy to understand.

Alfons: Though I can’t say I enjoy such brutish things, I suppose sacrifices may be inevitable.

Harrison: Hey you guys——

Woman’s cry: Ahh!

Harrison: That voice…

Woman’s cry: Someone! There’s a groper— he groped me!

Nica: A groper, huh.

N: Yeah, I figured. There’s bound to be some stupid humans who can’t hold themselves back and take advantage of the festival.

N: I just don’t get it. Well, I’m sure with this crowd, he’ll get caught in no time.

Alfons: I’m sure a man foolish enough to grope others will be caught soon——

A: But as I recall, the direction that man is running happens to be toward the place Kate has come to cheer for us, isn’t it?

Harrison: …I’ll go. I’m worried about her.

H: You guys can do whatever.

Jude: Tch, can’t stand the thought o’ leaving ‘er alone and gettin’ yelled at.

Alfons: Ahha! Are the men who haven’t run that much before going full speed ahead now?

A: What are you going to do, Nica?

Nica: Guess I’ll go too? Standing idle around won’t do much anyway.

[ALLEYWAY]

Groper: Dammit… why are you guys chasing after me! Ah——

Harrison: Okay, caught you.

Jude: Keep that trash bastard o’ a pervert restrained.

Harrison: That was my intention.

H: Ahh, you guys came too?

Nica: Ohh, so this is the groper, huh. Haha, now that’s a face that’ll probably stir up trouble with women.

Alfons: Judging by one’s outward appearance is nonsense. That said, though, he does sport a rather unfulfilled expression.

Groper: I didn’t do it! My hand just happened to touch her butt.

Groper: And besides! Aren’t you guys the one who’s got some unfulfilled desires, stirring up all this fuss all over this?

Alfons: Oh, you happened to, didn’t you.

A: On the way here, I caught onto something, you see.

A: As far as I heard, six women were bringing up how they were getting touched by you.

A: Why that is one hefty coincidence indeed, dare I say.

A: Or could it be your hands were implanted with a magnet that drew you to women’s rears?

Nica: And besides, we’ve got a handy lie detector right here.

N: So? Which is it?

Harrison: Everything you’re saying is a lie. There’s no doubt about that.

H: Well, that’s my intuition, at least.

Groper: …gh.

Groper: D-damn it all! Yeah, okay, I did it!

Nica: Okay, okay, I’ve heard just about enough of that bastard’s dirty voice.

Alfons: Now then, having confessed so honestly, what punishment shall we do?

A: Ahh, come to think of it, our abilities are off the table, aren’t they. Well then, Jude.

Jude: Show that nasty arse o’ yours. The one ya fondled with.

Groper: Guah!

Nica: Wow, that sounded brutal. His bones are probably broken.

Alfons: My heartfelt condolences. Well, what should we do with this knocked out man?

Harrison: Hand him over to the police.

H: Today we’re not Crown and Vogel, but rather just participants.

Jude: Whatever floats your boat. I couldn’t care less.

An unclear cry: Ahh!

Harrison: Another one…? (O_O)

Alfons: What is it this time?

[BRIDGE]

Kate: Ah— guys!

K: There’s a big problem, all the participants who had the drinks from the break spot ended up falling fast asleep!

Alfons: Is that so?

Kate: And then a committee member started to reveal that they’d been threatened and bribed and——

Jude: Hmm.

Kate: And on top of that, it was discovered that someone was going to use the sewer as an unjust move!

Nica: Well, I’ll be.

Kate: Just who could be behind these? It’s too much like what a trash bastard would do, and I can’t look past that!

Harrison: Go on, Kate, keep it going.

Kate: Wha——?

Fin.

team 1 team 2 team 3

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[machveil]

You should totally do like a how to draw Konig tutorial for one of ur daily sketches

Chibi or not

But u should totally do it

I neeeeeeeeed ur process

-🦥

notes below the cut - additional notes can be found in this post where I give art tips from my experience

daily König sketch with bonus content♥️‼️post is a little late but it’s due to the info dump below haha, anyways, he’s a little nervous

hi!! thanks for requesting a little “my process” thing - super happy to do one<3

I’ll be using these pieces of him that I’ve done to go over my notes - this is just how I go about drawing him. I’d definitely recommend also going through this post linked above too for additional info because a lot of it carries over!

I think the most important thing for me when drawing König is spacing out his hood ratios. I always start out by just drawing where his eyes and eyebrows are, then I draw the cut-outs around them. after that, I start the stitched neckline - that’s usually an eye hole’s width above his actual eyes, it gives a good allusion to where his forehead would be

they aren’t hard and fast rules I follow, more like a silent guideline that can be meddled with depending on the drawing. I usually follow them because, to me, it looks the best with how I draw him. it’s flexible - same with the sleeves, sometimes they end below his eye cut-outs, sometimes I cut them short and they’re higher

I thought I’d do a step-by-step for the hood folds because just info dumping all at once sounded confusing in my head

I start by just drawing lines down from the corners of his eye cut-outs, then I loosely draw a slanted line to show some bunching of the fabric. the slanted line is usually around where his collarbone would be

best way I can describe figure 2 is drawing folds in a ‘U’ shape. the fabric is falling from his head and ‘pooling’. the ‘U’ shape adds a little depth

miscellaneous little folds around the hem. they follow the way his hood rests, slanting downwards towards the center

if anything, just study how fabric falls and bunches up! a lot of drawing is looking at reference material to figure the ‘why’s and ‘what’s - “why do the folds bunch in certain areas?”, “why is fabric gathering in that area”, “what’s causing the fabric to move like that”, etc

lastly is his body, and as we know, I’m allergic to drawing clothing (read “lazy”). I actually really recommend looking at the post I linked above for this because, in the last figure, I show the Pinterest reference of the man who inspired my König’s body shape (and went into depth on using references)

for arms, in figure 1 and 2, you’ll see me draw an oval inside the bicep and forearm - those are just to add the allusion to muscle mass. if I don’t draw those ovals, to me, it looks a little flat. in figure 3 I go over his waistline because of course I do

I always account for a prominent rib cage line because I personally like drawing a more pronounced rib cage in general. after the ribcage, there’s a slight indent at the waist before it flares back out - that ‘flare out’ is the line for the Adonis belt. again, just personal preference, but I enjoy making the curves a little dramatic so they’re more pronounced and visually appealing to me

I don’t know how helpful that was but I hope I got some information across - uuh, even though I don’t draw his tactical gear and uniform that often the advice I can give is to just look at his model haha. the only gear that gives me a headache is his helmet, but even then I just bs my way through it

for chibi König I just shrink all his proportions and draw a stupid little t-shirt for his head<3 he doesn’t need to think, he’s just a cute little fella. I draw chibi König the way I would draw a puppy, make him look cute without a thought behind those eyes

for additional reference material here’s the link for my Pinterest - I have an absurd amount of reference material for you to browse through

hopefully this was slightly helpful?? I don’t know, as long as you get something out of this I’m happy

[voidspiraling]

AGGHH I deleted the original post I’m so saddd.

Anyways I wanted to talk abt this pic idk if it’s canon or just a non canon drawing but lets assume that it is significant for this analysis.

In this pic Till is wearing his R2 outfit, his mic headset and his mouth his open like he’s singing. This makes me think that he’s onstage in Round 2 singing his Unknown (Till the End) song. HOWEVER. While he’s singing this song the background is red with shooting star, meteors, debris whatever it is.

Doesn’t it remind you of something? My thoughts are that while Till was outwardly singing about his love for Mizi he was actually thinking about Ivan.

The thing abt Alien Stage is that everyone’s an unreliable narrator. In Round 1 everything seems like a sci-fi idol show until the ending where Sua dies. Then in Round 3 we are led to believe that Till never glanced at Ivan when that is in fact a lie and Till DID look at Ivan. Methinks Round 2 is also told by an unreliable narrator, only the thing that’s unreliable is Till himself. In Round 1 we are fed false info abt the type of world they live in. In Round 3 we are fed false info abt Till’s attitude towards Ivan. So in Round 2 I think we are being fed false info abt Till’s feelings.

Here’s something that always struck me as off. Here Till has just finished his “confession” but he doesn’t even acknowledge Mizi off stage. Usually after you confess to someone, you check for their reaction right? Onstage Till looked at Mizi after he smashed the guitar. But here when he is physically closer to her he doesn’t even attempt to look at her. Compared to Ivan who kept looking at Till even when he was being shot, and kept his eyes on him even as he died, turning to look at Mizi shouldn’t be too difficult.

Some of the lyrics of the song were also weird too (I’ll be using the Eng translations so some things maybe lost in translation)

First the line “I wanna know all about you” this line was weird bc how do you not know everything abt Mizi already? Mizi lived a very sheltered life, so she never had to build any walls to protect herself. If you wanted to know all abt Mizi you just had to look at her. She doesn’t hide anything at all, everything abt her can be found on the surface. It would’ve made more sense to say “I want you to know all about me” considering that Mizi isn’t aware of Till’s feelings.

Second is the line “How dare you think this time’s enough” this line is so… aggressive. Like I can’t imagine Till actually saying this to Mizi at all. Till is usually super shy and freezes up around Mizi. Could he actually say something so confrontational to her. I can’t imagine that all.

But I can imagine him saying that to Ivan.

“I want to know all about you” bc I spent so much time with you and I still don’t understand you and “How dare you think the time’s enough” when you don’t understand my feelings. You just assumed what I felt you don’t actually know how I feel about you.

(Till is actually the character I understand the least. This is just my imagination lol)

Another thing that makes me think Till was crying is this scene. (How does he look so pretty when in distress. Till I can’t you’re too endearing wth)

Here it looks like he’s sweating a lot but it also looks like there’s a tear slipping from his left eye. He even does a little sniffle which makes me think he was sobbing.

My theory is that Till was trying to tell himself a narrative in order to cope with his traumatic life. And the narrative he tells himself is that the only person he loves is Mizi and that the only person who can save him is Mizi. So while he’s onstage he sings abt his feelings for Mizi, but while he’s singing he accidentally also sings abt his feelings for Ivan.

Don’t you think it’s weird that Ivan doesn’t show up in the R2 flashbacks. Considering how often they were together growing up you’d think he’d at least me off to the side somewhere. I mean Sua was in the flashback but Ivan wasn’t? I think Till was intentionally suppressing his thoughts abt Ivan in order to make a point that he only loves Mizi. However bc the song can also apply to Ivan he inadvertently sings abt his love for Ivan and starts crying. That’s bc his love for Mizi is just a performance for the world and for himself.

In his personal narrative it is better to be the guy that loves the kind and gentle Mizi than the boy who is hopelessly entangled with the enigmatic Ivan. It hurts less that way. Till can look at Mizi at a distance bc she is like a bright light in his bleak world. But Till can’t look at Ivan because he is too bright, he fills up an entire sky with light and it haunts Till to this day. I remember reading somewhere that Till can’t escape from the red sky. The red sky could represent Till’s feelings for Ivan.

It’s where we see Till at his happiest.

It’s where we see Till the closest with another person.

As well as where he’s the most conflicted/scared.

Basically the picture of Till crying shows how he actually feels abt the meteor shower scene and how bc of his feelings for Ivan it haunts him even when he’s trying to sing abt someone else. He loves Ivan but he also can’t bare to be with Ivan. Maybe he realizes the self-destructive nature of their love. Maybe he knew it was dangerous for them to be in love in this world. Or maybe he was just to afraid of the pain and wanted to protect his heart in any way he could.

I don’t think we’ll ever get an answer. But I think that Till idolizing Mizi is just a fantasy he uses to cope with his awful life. And that bc his relationship with Ivan was uncanny and different from the love he received from his mom Io, he tries to reject even the thought of Ivan. Bc if he thinks abt Ivan too much he’ll unravel bc love is obsessive and all consuming. And Till def would have been consumed by his love for Ivan. It would have just been consumed by the aliens for entertainment. Their love is doomed no matter what he does. Might as well pretend it never existed maybe then it would hurt less.

It didn’t ;-;