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#but I think that’s a little less likely
ryllen · 2 days
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A question I have just recently,
can Sebek handle spicy?
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this is what i generally think of fae.
tho i think,
lilia knows spicy spices from his travel.
even tho in dragon form, malleus breathes fire from his mouth, and fire is hot, it might be like the kind of fire that doesn't hurt him in the first place
sebek father might bring spicy spice from human world with him, but since i think of him as a mellow man, he might not be interested in spicy food in the first place
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How to spot Liberal Zionist Propaganda 101
This post is by no means exhaustive at all. There are many Liberal Zionist talking points but these are just some of the most common ones. While on the surface they seem a little naive and hopeful at best, they are very much harmful. If you claim to be an ally to Palestinians, this post is primarily for you!
For starters, liberal Zionists will often try to both-sides the issue of Palestine, talk about how it's complicated, they'll claim that the conflict hurts both Israelis and Palestinians, how the only way forward is one where Jews and Arabs "just need to get along," amongst other things. They also often like to centre themselves, even when acknowledging Palestinians as the victims of Israel or this "conflict." From time to time, they also like to engage in tokenising certain Palestinians whose views tend to more or less align with theirs. Here are some common arguments you may hear from them:
1. Any form of justifying Israel's existence or claiming that the only solution is two states
It does not really need to be said why justifying Israel's existence is harmful but justifying its continued existence also means legitimising Israel's land theft, its expulsions of Palestinians, and its ongoing harm to Palestinians and other populations. Reducing any sorts of “solutions” into a binary is unhelpful. Needless to say, a 2ss would not even address any legitimate concerns Palestinian have, such as the right of return, and would only legitimise Israel’s colonialism. Talking about a two-state solution also implies that the root of the conflict lies in Palestinians not having their own state rather than being an occupied people. It is very much also possible to construct a paradigm where Jews and Palestinians both live together on the same land as equal citizens that doesn't involve two separate states, much less an ethnostate.
2. Security for Israel could only come through peace
This is a similar talking point to the one above. Not only does it centre Israeli safety and security above Palestinian liberation but it mistakenly assumes that once Israel makes peace with Palestinians, it'll achieve security. The reality, however, is that Israel's imagined security has quite often come at the expense of peace. In fact, "peace" has just acted as nothing more than a smoke-screen for Israel to carry out its expansionist policies, particularly in the West Bank. When liberal Zionists talk about peace juxtaposed with Israeli security, they're talking about attaining a negative peace rather than a positive one.
3. Israelis are not their government.
This point does nothing to actually help Palestinians. It is also an incredibly tone-deaf thing to say when Israel has targeted many Palestinian civilians by having alleged proximity to Hamas, such as being family members of militants or leaders (inc. children!), civil servants in a Hamas-led government, or even any male above the age of 15 they consider to be a potential combatant! It also deliberately erases Israeli civilians' support of and culpability in Israel's actions towards Palestinians.
4. Netanyahu and/or the Israeli right are the source of conflict.
While it is true that things have gotten inadvertently worse under Israel's various right-wing governments, they are not the source of conflict, but rather a product of extremist nationalism and Jewish supremacy perpetuated by the system. Both the 1967 occupations and settlements were undertaken under centre-left governments in Israel, and Israeli policy under non-right wing governments has been just as harmful towards Palestinians and has paved the way for where we are today. Blaming Netanyahu just also obscures the violent nature of Israel's military occupation over Palestinians which long precede him coming into power.
5. Netanyahu and Hamas are two sides of the same coin
I don't think I've seen any allies give validity to this claim but it's an extremely reductionist claim and is sort of similar to the one above. Groups like Hamas are merely a response to the Israeli occupation while Netanyahu is a byproduct of it. While some Israelis may see Hamas or their actions as an "obstacle to peace," Israel's actions and policies long pre-date Hamas and how Israel is currently responding to Hamas is no different to how Israel has engaged with Palestinian militant groups in the past, regardless of political affiliations or political goals. It is also important to note that Hamas has agreed to the establishment of a state along 1967 borders while Netanyahu aims to prolong the occupation and empower the settler movement (some of whom are part of his coalition government) as much as possible.
6. Israel is not a settler-colonial state.
While it is indisputable that Jews have historical connections to Palestine, that doesn’t automatically make you Indigenous or negate Israeli settler-colonialism. Colonialism in particular describes a relationship of exploitation. There are many cases of this, but we most clearly see this in the West Bank where Israel exploits natural resources on occupied Palestinian territory for its own political and economic gains. In terms of settler-colonialism, it is widely known that Israel expelled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to make way for Jewish refugees and migrants to the new state of Israel, and is still actively facilitating Jewish migration to Israel today while denying Palestinians their right of return.
7. (X) doesn't help Palestinians.
It is not up to anyone to determine whether certain tactics or strategies are helpful or not. This point only seeks to discredit pro-Palestine organising. Only Palestinians get to decide what is actually helpful for the cause or not.
8. Any sort of Hamas-blaming.
On the surface it may seem like there’s nothing wrong with this, but this point is often harmful and usually lends itself to right-wing talking points because its objective is to deflect blame away from Israel. Certain arguments blaming Hamas also aim to minimise Palestinian suffering perpetuated by Israel. It also paints Israeli violence as retaliatory to Palestinian violence which only obfuscates Israel’s (and by extension, the US’) role in its state military apparatus and the differing power dynamics between Israelis and Palestinians. In other contexts, this point seeks to also legitimise certain opposition, such as the Palestinian Authority. Hamas-blaming also tends to sometimes lead to racist diatribes about Palestinians and their culture.
9. Al-Jazeera is not a credible news source.
Al Jazeera is a news source like any other. It has varying editorial policies and therefore will have equally good reporting on certain issues while having terrible reporting on others. The difference is that Al-Jazeera's news on Palestine is credible because it comes directly from their Palestinian reporters on the ground and first-hand eyewitness accounts. Western news sources are no more or less credible than al-Jazeera. Compare this to CNN, NYT, and any other Western news sources where Palestinian voices are often entirely missing from the narrative.
10. Overemphasis of antisemitism on the left
Antisemitism is a real issue and has the potential to fester in left circles if not directly addressed head on. Combatting antisemitism is extremely important, however, it is not an issue exclusive to the left. There is also a double standard in that no one expects Zionists to call out Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian racism. Certain accusations of "antisemitism" also seek to distract from what's going on in Palestine by making it about Jewish comfort and feelings. Combatting antisemitism, Islamophobia, anti-Arab racism etc is always important as the basis of good politics.
Last but not least, be wary of native collaborators or any sort of normalisers! They are Palestinians or Arabs who try very hard to appeal to Western liberal consensus and can end up perpetuating a lot of harm to the cause and/or other activists. You will know them when you see them.
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lovebugism · 1 day
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hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈
i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)
You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.
Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.
You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.
“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”
Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 
A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”
“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”
Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 
Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.
You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.
Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.
You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”
The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”
He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 
He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.
“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”
“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.
“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”
“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”
You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.
“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”
Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.
He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.
It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.
“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.
You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”
“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 
“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”
You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 
“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.
“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.
“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.
It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 
But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.
“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 
Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”
The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.
“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.
Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.
His excitement makes you regret your answer. 
“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”
“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”
The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.
You nod once. “Sure.”
He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.
You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.
You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”
His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.
You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”
You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.
He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”
“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”
“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”
Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.
“Eddie,” he finishes for you.
“…Eddie.”
“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”
You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”
Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 
“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”
Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.
“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”
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luveline · 2 days
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BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣
—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k
You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 
You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 
Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 
Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 
So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 
“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 
“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 
He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 
Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 
“I’m fine.” 
“You look unhappy.” 
It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 
“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 
Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 
Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 
Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 
“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 
“No.”
“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 
You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 
“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 
��That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.
“You like him, he likes you.” 
That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.
“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.
“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 
“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 
You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 
“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 
You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 
“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 
Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 
“What’s going on?” you ask. 
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 
He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 
“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 
“Sure.” 
“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 
You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 
“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 
“Who says I need that?” 
“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 
You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 
You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 
Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 
“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.
It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 
“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 
If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 
He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 
“I don’t.” 
“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 
You touch his waist. “Not me.” 
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noctqrnxl · 3 days
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my thoughts on the watcher update:
i am happy with this apology.
i will not let my guard down
i GENUINELY hope they learn to manage their finances better in the future
if they read through the comments then i hope they saw the thousands of people talking about how ryan and shane's banter >>> high quality content
i hope they get a little less out of touch??? and understand their audience??? and do some research before taking such a big decision????
i definitely hope that they find a balance between the high-quality content they want to create, doing so within understandable budget restraints, and the content WE want (which is mostly banter/talking. i used to hate anything horror-related but i loved bfu supernatural because SHANE AND RYAN MADE IT LESS SCARY!! I HAVE MADE POSTS ABOUT THIS BEFORE AS WELL!!)
contrary to what most people were saying, i actually liked steven the most at some point. when i'd watch too many spirits episodes it was steven's chaos (and eventually him and ricky's banter) that i looked forward to. i liked dish granted as well! yes i love shane and ryan, honestly who doesn't atp, but i always had a soft spot for steven. (i haven't seen a single worth it ep btw. the most i've seen of steven has been on watcher.) that's why the backlash against him specifically has been... tough to see. i acknowledge what people are saying and i also agree with it, but still. ykwim.
they look WRECKED. either they are very good actors all of a sudden or this was a more terrible weekend for them than i thought. (not to mention the bullying and harassment a lot of fans have done.)
as a lot of people have been pointing out, isn't WatcherTV basically Patreon??? i haven't signed up for either because, well, i'm an international fan 🙊 but still, it feels weird to have both??? idk (edit: they've closed up patreon for now)
i still think WatcherTV is a bad idea but hey, at least we will see the content on yt as well, right?
i hope one day we'll all joke about this. (i don't mean to say i want us to feel good about it, because i don't think we ever will. but still...)
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
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doing grocery shopping with the batboys
Could you write something fun and fluff please?
is one of my favorite activities.
I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.
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Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️
Dick:
You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)
Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.
Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;
‘Dick?’
A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’
He was in the pet section. again.
You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’
You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.
The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.
However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.
Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.
Jason:
Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.
And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.
‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.
‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.
‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.
You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.
Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.
His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.
How sweet of him.
(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)
Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!
He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’
You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.
Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.
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stxrslut · 3 days
Note
what would each of the boys do if they were having trouble getting you out of subspace?
oh I love this one actually!!
rafe wouldn’t be expecting it, normally all it takes to bring you out is a bit of rocking in his arms and some reassurance. so when he’s been doing that for nearly twenty minutes he starts to get concerned “you with me baby?” he cranes his neck down to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. all you can do is murmur out a little ‘daddy’ before trying to burrow into his chest again.
he would get you up and take you into the bath, something he normally waits until the morning after to do. he’d just do his best to coax you out, feeling a bit helpless as you paw at him and try desperately to get more. he’d just gently correct your words and actions, knowing that if he were to be rough with you it would just make you worse.
eventually he gets you out, rubbing you back as you murmur sleepily “don’t do that again— was fuckin’ scarin’ me.” he would chastise gently before letting you fall asleep.
john b would know exactly what to do, it’s not his first rodeo. he knows you’re in pretty deep, just by the way you’re holding yourself. he picks you up and rocks you as he carries you into the living room, he does this to get you into a setting that’s less intimate then the bedroom, so as to make it easier to come out of it.
he puts on a show and grabs some snacks, all while still holding you and soothing you. he’d ask you small questions to try and get you more engaged. maybe pointing out the different fruit there is in the fridge and saying a little “you want the strawberries? no? or the apple?” you’d just rub your eyes and point to the fruit of your choosing “that one daddy,” you murmur and he clicks his tongue, “uh uh— not daddy anymore sweetie, just johnbee. can you say that?” and all you do is shake your head because you don’t want to :(
he definitely does his best to hold a conversation with you to try and get you thinking, and he repeatedly verbalises what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. “just wanna go sleep daddy,” you whine, and he just rubs your back and kisses your forehead, “can’t go to sleep all subby like this baby, s’not good for you.”
lots of kisses and praise when you do come out of it <3 cause he knows you didn’t want to. “good job baby, ‘m proud of you.”
jj would be surprised at first, you barely ever go into subspace with him, and even when you do it’s pretty easy to get out of it.
I feel like it would take him a few minutes to notice, when he does he just assumes it’s like other instances and comes over to hold you, “hey— sorry baby, m’right here. you think you can come back to me?” he starts to worry a bit when it’s been a while and you’re still not coming back to him.
“sweetie,” he’d sigh, just cradling you against his chest and holding you tight to stop you from getting handsy. “you’ve had enough now, you need to use that big girl head for me again please.”
it takes him a long time to get you out, he doesn’t really know of anything to do apart from a lot of coaxing. when he does you’re both exhausted but he forces you to get up and have a shower just to make sure your head is clear before bed.
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asharaks · 2 days
Text
i get the gentle healer trope completely like i understand the appeal fo a character who drains themself for the sake of others of a character who is self sacrificing to the nth degree who dedicates their life to saving people, often at their own expense.
but also clerics are fucking crazy man especially clerics of death and the grave and stuff. i love clerics who cause more damage than they heal who can't touch without harming clerics whose blood runs necrotic and whose gods gifts are acid and poison and violence - not even evil clerics. people who are sworn to the dark and distasteful aspects of service, who perform their tasks with filthy hands, bloodstained faith.
people who are so devoted to their god they take on the things no one else is willing to do, who sacrifice their own innocence and their own peace in the name of faith.
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s-4pphics · 11 hours
Text
a friend in need! (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(
A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING
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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 
Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 
Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 
Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “
“Can you help me down, please?” 
Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 
“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 
Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 
“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 
When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 
A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 
Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”
She breathes. “Peachy.” 
Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 
“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 
Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 
She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 
You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 
One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 
“What’s up with them?” 
You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 
“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 
“Damn… How’s she doing?” 
“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”
“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 
“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 
“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 
Weird. 
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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 
You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 
Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 
Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 
“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 
Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 
Silence. 
You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “
“Dina’s pregnant.” 
He didn’t tell you that.
Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 
No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 
“What.” 
Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 
“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 
Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 
You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 
And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 
Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.
“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 
You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.
“Guess.” 
But you don’t have to... Fuck. 
Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 
“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 
You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.
“There’s no misunderstanding.” 
Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.
“… Sorry, man.” 
“I don’t care.” 
Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 
“Can we go?” 
Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 
You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “
An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.
Roll!
Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 
“TOMMY!” 
A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 
“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 
Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.
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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 
“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.
Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 
“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 
The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 
You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 
“Again? Really?”
You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “
Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “
“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “
“You’re the fucking worst.” 
“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 
A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 
Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 
“Why’re you looking like that?” 
When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 
You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 
Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 
“Have you ever watched porn?” 
She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 
“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 
You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 
A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 
You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”
“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 
“Remind me to thank him.” 
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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 
She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?
More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 
… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 
“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 
“Thank you.” 
Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 
“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “
Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 
You sigh when her expression flattens. 
“Ellie…”
“Yes?” 
Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 
“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “
“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 
“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 
Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 
“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 
Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 
“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”
More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 
“You’re lying.” 
“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?
Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 
What the fuck, Eugene. 
“Oh, shit.” 
Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 
Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 
You snort, “Are you asking me?” 
“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 
You shrug, “Find out.”
One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 
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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 
High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 
This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 
“Are we really doing this right now?” 
She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 
You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 
“Can we…” 
You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 
“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 
“Tell me.” 
“Later.” She whispers. 
You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 
A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 
Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 
“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 
“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  
You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 
“I…” 
But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 
“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 
If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 
“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”
There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 
Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 
“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 
“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 
Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 
“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 
“You like that kinda stuff?” 
“How the fuck would I know?” 
You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 
Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 
Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—
S-Stop staring at me. 
It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 
And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 
The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 
It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 
Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 
Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 
Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.
A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 
And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 
Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 
Lemme see. 
Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 
That’s how you do it?
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 
Show me how. 
Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 
You first. 
You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 
Not the fucking plan.
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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 
The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 
Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 
“Hm?” 
“Nothing.” 
“Hm.”
Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 
Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 
Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 
Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 
Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 
The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.
When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.
I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.
Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 
Cum w-with me? 
Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 
Ellie, watch a movie with me? 
Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 
Ellie, go on a walk with me?
Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 
What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 
Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 
Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 
Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 
Can’t wait to feel you on me. 
Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 
Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —
Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 
I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 
Cumming for you, oh shit—
You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 
“Lay down.” 
“H-Hm?” 
“Lay down,” you croak. 
And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 
The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 
You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡
“Hold still.” 
You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.
“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 
“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “
She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 
She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 
Why did you kiss them, though? 
It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 
Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.
“Sor — sorry — “
Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “
And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 
Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 
“Hey…”
You meet her eyes. 
“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 
Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 
Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?
It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 
“I can walk you back!” 
“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 
Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 
She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 
Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]
Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.
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Chapter 32: No Harm Done.
You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.
It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.
You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.
Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.
Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.
It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.
Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.
Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.
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simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?
That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.
He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.
The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.
you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.
Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...
Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.
Both of them felt just as real, however.
You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.
You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.
Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?
When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?
You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.
"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.
"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.
"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.
"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.
You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.
Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.
"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.
"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.
The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...
And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.
How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...
You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.
"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.
"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.
"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"
Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.
"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."
"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.
You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."
"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.
Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.
"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.
"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.
"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.
"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"
You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.
"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.
Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.
"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"
Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...
You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,
@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,
@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,
@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,
@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,
@l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago ,
@sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki ,
@comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear ,
@mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat ,
@stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving ,
@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss
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catboybiologist · 1 day
Text
I wanted to do something a bit different this tgirl tummy Tuesday. So here's some sexy and informative stuff!
A lot of people tell me something like "how the fuck do you boymode?". My response is usually some combination of A, the parts of my face I hide are very masculine, and B, people are primed to see me as masc in day to day life so just don't think about it much.
And those are true, to an extent. But boymode vs girlmode is a bit more than clothes, and I wanted to do a video that can show that a bit. And hey, why not have a little fun and show off a little tummy with it?
There's a lot more I could be doing for the girlmode here. This is no makeup, still wearing a very compressive sports bra, and I didn't even adjust how I'm wearing my pants or the tightness. It's also not the most femme of outfits, just a woman's cut tank top. I could also do an actually femme looking ponytail that hides the hairline better- all ponytails in this post look pretty masculine, though. But I think this still shows the contrast pretty well.
The hairline does a lot of work here, but it's less than you think. Mostly, that's just a "primer" to get you to read the rest of me as more masc or femme overall.
If you're curious, here's some other pictures of each factor individually:
Boymode:
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Girlmode:
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😳🥺😳🥺😳🥺 mode:
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Hopefully this was fun, and gave a little insight into my boymoding! Hopefully I won't have to deal with this in a couple months.
@lilithtransrights @xenasaur @godless-of-the-hunt , how was my analysis here?
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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home for christmas || claudia pina x reader ||
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you bring claudia home with you to norway for christmas.
claudia would never admit it, but you could tell from the grip she had on her hand that she was. the two of you had spent a season and a half in spain together, and this holiday break, you were excited to finally be going back home for christmas. the vacations spent partying at various resorts were nice, but you wanted something a little quieter and more wholesome.
"tu bien?" your spanish had never been good, and so, for the most part you refused to use it. now, though, you knew that claudia needed what little you had. she glanced over at you, obviously a little thrown off by the spanish. claudia's norweigan was nonexistent, so you had gotten your family to agree to english for the weekend you'd be staying with them.
"just nervous," claudia answered. her english was getting much better thanks to now fully living with you. your ability to speak spanish was atrocious, despite being able to keep up with what most people were saying. there were always exceptions, especially whenever someone threw in the a catalonian phrase. aitana and alexia were the worst about it, ona only really doing it to get on your nerves.
"you'll be fine, my parents will love you more than me by the end of the weekend," you told her. claudia doubted it, but she liked knowing that she had your vote of confidence. it didn't matter that claudia felt like she'd mess things up if she knew that she had your vote of confidence.
"right. i am a good girlfriend to you. we love each other very much, and even if they don't like me, they'll see that," claudia reasoned. you were glad to see her thinking rationally. it was amazing sometimes how sound of mind your girlfriend could be whenever she was away from the rest of her chaotic friend group.
meeting your parents had gone over extremely well for claudia. she knew that she was nothing like your exes, and that seemed to work well in her favor. your parents approved of the relationship a lot more than they had of your ones in the past. your father had openly told claudia this, and she had been almost insufferable for the rest of the night.
"are you sure that you don't want to stay a couple more days here? i mean, your parents did make up that room for us. it seems a bit like a waste," claudia said. you pinched the bridge of your nose as you got in the car with her. she shifted uncomfortably in the passenger's seat, thrown from her element since you weren't letting her drive you around.
"claudia, i love my parents, but i'd like to, at some point, have some privacy. they were well behaved because you were around, but once they get comfortable, it's all over," you warned her. claudia frowned a little, but understood.
family was very important to the both of you, and claudia had genuinely just wanted to spend some more time with yours. you were all for family time, but a lot of the things you wanted to do on this trip were just for you and claudia. you knew that she had been to a few ski resorts, but she hadn't gotten a good, proper, christmas experience in your books.
the drive to your little rental isn't too far from your parents' place. it's already decorated for christmas, and while it is nice, it feels less like home than where you had just come from. it's very organized, like how claudia had decorated her apartment as a compromise to you the year before.
"this is nice," claudia said as she walked around the little living room. the small house was nice, reminding you of the one you had went to look at in spain. your contract was up soon, and you were hoping to resign with barcelona. claudia was staying, promising you that she had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere else, and that she'd love for the two of you to get a place together whenever you resigned.
"i have a present for you," you said as you wrapped your arms around claudia's waist. she leaned into your embrace, allowing for you to kiss the side of her face several times. reluctantly, you pulled away to get the bag with the coat that you had asked your father to pick up whenever all of you had gone out to the big market.
"it's not christmas yet." claudia looked a little skeptical at the gift bag. you knew exactly what she wanted to be in the bag, and it definitely wasn't it. however, you weren't going to let your girlfriend run around looking like a tourist, nor would you let her stand there freezing because she wasn't properly bundled up.
"well, this is just to make our day trips easier on you," you told her. claudia cracked a small smile at the way you just constantly thought of her like that. you were definitely the caretaker in the relationship, always trying to make sure that claudia was safe, comfortable, and happy. "it looks thin, but i promise that it will keep you warm."
"you got me a coat in blaugrana?" claudia gripped the coat tightly in her hands as she held it up in front of her. you may have ordered the coat early, long before claudia had actually agreed to come with you. claudia smiled as she looked over the coat to take in the little details. you had gotten her number on the side, a little touch that you knew meant the world to her.
"it was supposed to come before we got here, but you have it now," you said nervously. you were twiddling your thumbs behind your back when claudia launched herself into your arms. you caught her, smiling and laughing as she tackled you back onto the couch. the two of you rolled onto the floor, lips connected in a deep kiss.
"i love it."
claudia couldn't believe that for the first time, she could go outside without being cold. the two of you had been out at the christmas market for nearly an hour already. you wanted to buy some things, but there were things to do first. claudia smiled as the two of you walked around, not complaining once as you continuously got distracted by different booths.
"thank god there's no line," you sighed in relief as you saw the rink. claudia's eyes followed yours, a slightly nervous look on her face as you tugged her toward the ice rink. "come on, we should take advantage of this, it won't be this empty for long."
"are you sure it's a good idea? i can't skate, and if i get injured, the others would probably kill you," claudia said.
"don't worry, i'll be right here the whole time holding your hand. i won't let you fall," you promised her. claudia hated that her trust in you dissolved any of the protests that had been building up inside of her.
once you both had your skates on, claudia took your hand and led you onto the ice. you moved slowly, allowing claudia to get a feel for it. she didn't really ever get too comfortable, so you only had her do a couple of laps. she took her skates back and sat on the side, content to watch you do your thing.
it was a little known fact, but you hadn't started out playing soccer. that had always been a bit of a side thing, even as you had gotten your youth team callups for your country. your first love had been figure skating, but there had always been someone better than you. it had destroyed you to always feel like you were second best, and so, your parents had steered you towards soccer, which had boosted your confidence as you grew into your teenage years.
being on the ice again after so long felt freeing. you danced along to the music, unaware of the way claudia watched you. she hadn't gotten to see you so unapologetically invested in something ever. you were completely lost in yourself, and claudia felt like she was falling even further in love with you. it should have scared her, but she had been feeling this way throughout the entire trip.
it was nearly an hour later whenever you finally got off of the ice. you'd be feeling it later, but for the time being, you were still buzzing. claudia seemed a little bit more clingy than normal as the two of you did a bit of shopping, but you didn't mind it. you loved it whenever claudia would hold onto your hand and lean into your side, randomly pressing little kisses to your cheek or jaw.
"wait! we have to get hot chocolate!" claudia chuckled as she watched you run off towards another booth. the two of you had spent most of your day out and about in town, and now both of you were more than ready to go home. claudia knew that you hated being out of the house for so long like this, so she was a bit surprised when you ended up being the one to make constant stops on the way out.
"why did you only get one cup?" claudia asked as you returned. you opened up the little mouth spot on the top and took a sip of it.
"because we're sharing it," you told her. claudia took the offered drink, eyes widening a bit in surprise. this wasn't her first time having hot chocolate, but this tasted different. "i used to get it every single year from the same booth because it's simply the best i've ever had."
"i want my own," claudia told you.
"tomorrow, we'll come back, i promise." you pressed a kiss to the top of her head as you dragged her towards the car. the two of you made your way out, not stopping anywhere else. you took a couple more drinks from the hot chocolate before you just gave the rest to claudia, who sipped on it happily from the passenger's seat.
"any more plans for the day?" claudia asked you.
"the christmas programs start soon, so we'll probably watch those and drink some wine. i'll warm up the leftovers my mom gave us for dinner, and then i say that we call it a night," you told her. claudia liked the sound of that, humming in approval as she shifted in her seat slightly. "all of this running around has made me very cuddle deprived, so you'll have to fix that."
"are you deprived of anything else?" claudia asked as she placed her hand on your thigh. the two of you shared a knowing look, one that claudia assumed meant she'd be getting lucky as soon as the two of you got back to the rental. however, much to her dismay, you did make her sit through all of the christmas specials that played that night before you even let her have more than a couple of very quick kisses.
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feralrabidcrow · 1 day
Text
I'm sure all of us are familiar with what happened to Heavy and Medic in the TF2 comics, particularly, comic #6.
They reunite after spending 6 months apart following the mercenaries being fired. Heavy has been living back in Russia with his family, and Medic has joined the TFC team, which has gone horribly.
Their reunion is in a less than ideal situation as Heavy is interrupting Cheavy from tearing Medic into pieces. Cheavy kills Medic, and Heavy completely loses his shit. He is determined to kill the man who killed his Doktor. To a degree that doesn't seem like avenging a friend, almost more like avenging a partner. Someone he loves deeply.
But then Medic comes back, and Heavy is just... weirdly casual about it. He goes from complete rage mode to "Ah Doktor it is good to have you back." No hug, no tears, just accepts that Medic is alive again. It almost feels like there is an awkwardness between them.
From a logical standpoint, this is just TF2 being TF2. The emotional moments in the comics are often quickly switched to a comedic tone.
But my Red Oktoberfest obsessed brain has latched onto this hard, and I have a headcanon that is now deeply ingrained into my worldview.
Heavy and Medic broke up when the team disbanded.
As much as I like the idea of Heavy and Medic keeping things going long distance and writing letters to each other, it doesn't make much sense to me logically.
This is something I've thought about a lot, to the point where I'm considering writing an angsty little one-shot about it.
I believe that when Gray Mann took control and fired the mercenaries, Heavy and Medic were left in a complicated situation where their interests no longer aligned. Heavy wanted to go back home to Russia and take care of his family. Medic wanted to look for a new job to continue his medical mad science endeavours. No matter what, if they were to stay together, someone would have ended up dissatisfied. After trying and failing to come up with a compromise, they decided the best thing was to go their separate ways.
But it didn't change the fact that they still loved each other. They went on to their new situations, with feelings of lingering regret and wondering what could have happened if they had stayed together.
When they reunite in the comics, this is the first time seeing each other since their painful break-up. They still care deeply for each other, hence Heavy instantly becoming protective of Medic when he sees him in danger. And when Medic dies, he snaps completely. He has thought about this man constantly since returning to Russia, silently hurting over the loss of the only real relationship he ever had. And now that man is dead. Of course he's going to lose it.
But when Medic comes back, he's confronted with the fact that Medic technically isn't his partner anymore, not at this point, anyways. In comes the awkwardness. He isn't sure how to approach this now. He and Medic have barely even spoken to each other at this point, much less talked about their feelings or their break-up.
I like to think shortly after the 6th comic ends, or sometime off-screen, they talk things out, resolve their issues, and maybe even share a lovely little reuniting kiss. But hey, that's just a theory! A game theory!
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luveline · 12 hours
Note
Can you do hotch and pregnant!reader where they’ve been trying for a baby for awhile without success and he comes home from a mission to a pregnancy announcement?
pregnant!reader, 1k
Trying for a baby with Aaron is undeniably a good time. He’s the kindest man you’ve ever met. He loves you intensely. 
There’s been a lot of intimacy (crassly but obviously), ten times as many kisses, and a heap of disappointed hugs to mellow it out. 
“We aren’t in any rush,” he’d said last time, in the midst of a post-test back rub, his voice soft and comforting as always, “we just need to take our time. You’ll wish we took a little more time once it happens, I promise.”  
When you do find out, you’re overjoyed. He should know logistically that it was possible for you to find out while he was away, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re hoping he will be anyhow. He looks moody walking up the path to the house, a little less when he notices you and Jack sitting on the porch swing with a jug of lemonade on the glass table. You take Jack’s glass.
“Hey, buddy!” he says, laughing as Jack jumps from the swing and rushes across the porch to tackle his legs in a hug. “Hey, buddy,” he repeats, gentler, “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too.” 
“Let me go put my stuff in the safe, okay? I’ll be right back.” 
He sends you a glowing smile and heads inside. Jack runs back to the swing and uses your leg to climb onto his cushion, turning his face up to yours. You can’t decide if he looks more like Aaron or Haley. 
Haley, you think after a few seconds. Jack has eyes like hers, big and round but with thick lashes in the corners that make them seem sparkly. 
“Are you gonna tell him the secret now?” Jack whispers. 
“Yes, I am. Do you think he’ll be happy?” 
“So happy.” Jack nods. “Like me. I can’t wait to have a brother.” 
“Or sister,” you say, putting the lemonades down on the table. 
“Or sister, but I want a brother.” 
Aaron returns in time to catch it. “You can’t choose, buddy, it happens at random.” He’s ditched his suit jacket inside, rolling his sleeves to the elbow. His first port of call is to pick Jack up and hug him like he’s something fragile. He guards Jack from the sun, turning half from you, and covers the small boy’s back with his hand. “You okay?” he asks. “You had a good time? Sorry I said I’d be back yesterday, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” 
Jack laughs into his dad’s neck. “You’re back today.” 
“You missed both of my questions, bud. How are you?” Aaron asks. 
“I’m excited! Y/N’s gonna tell you a secret!” 
You grin. Aaron turns to you expectantly. “Oh yeah? And you can’t tell me?” 
“Noooo,” Jack drags out. 
Aaron manoeuvres around the table, sitting on the porch swing next to you, the hooks creaking as he settles. Jack gets comfortable on his lap, eyes flashing between you and his dad excitedly. It’s as good a place as any to tell him the news, sunshine on your faces, his hand working behind your back. 
You smile at him before you start to speak. You can tell he already knows. “I found something out this morning.” 
“Yeah?” he asks, clutching at your back. His hand can’t stay still suddenly. It’s like a massage. “You are?”
“Yeah, I think so. The test says so. I took one of those strip ones first and it was two lines, and then I took a Clear Blue and it says one to two weeks.” 
“You’re pregnant,” he says surely, his lips turned up into a line, his smile as bright as you’ve ever seen it. 
“With a baby!” Jack supplies. 
“I’m just worried it’s too early.” 
“Honey, if the test says you’re pregnant, it’s not too early. How many did you take, just two?” 
“Four.” You nod, pulse going hard in your chest, you’re that happy. 
“Four,” he says, leaning in slowly to give you time to tilt your head. You close your eyes, smiling too much to kiss back as Aaron presses a loving one to your top lip, then just below, a pressure on the seam of your lips that makes you laugh. “I think you can be confident in their accuracy, then.” 
He kisses you again, then Jack. “What do you think about that, Jack? Y/N’s pregnant! She’s gonna get a big tummy.” 
“Like Mrs. Lundy?” 
Aaron cuddles him up to his neck. “Yeah, exactly like Mrs. Lundy. Wow. What should we do to celebrate?” 
Something in his voice has changed, turning scratchy and raw. You duck your head to peer at him through the shadow of Jack’s head, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of wetness in his lashes. 
“Aaron,” you murmur. 
He nods into Jack’s hair. 
“You are happy, right?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” he says, hugging Jack like he’s scared he’s gonna move away. 
You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about, if he’s happy or sad, though it’s probably both, but you know he loves you. You wrap your arm behind his head, the other around his arm where he holds Jack. “You know what four tests means?” you ask, giving his back a good rub with your knuckles. 
Aaron’s eyes blink open. He doesn’t cry, to your relief, he only leans forward to kiss you all over your closest cheek. “What does it mean?”
“It means I’m gonna have four babies, duh.” 
“Four?” Jack asks incredulously. “No way. Dad, I am not having four brothers. No way.” 
“What’s wrong with four brothers?” Aaron asks. “You’d only have to share your room with two.” 
“No way!” 
“We’re kidding, baby,” you say, taking Jack in where he sits on Aaron’s lap. You’d have been perfectly happy with just him and his father, but you’re ecstatic for another baby to bring up. Jack will make a good brother, and Aaron’s a great dad. “It’s one brother or sister. You’ll have your own room no matter what.” 
He sighs in relief that’s too big for his body. “Oh, okay. I’m excited again then.” 
Aaron gives the porch swing a rock with his leg. “Me too, buddy.” 
388 notes · View notes
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Unexpected Trip
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Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.
Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.
You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.
Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.
"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."
As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."
You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."
As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.
"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.
Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.
Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.
The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.
"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.
"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.
Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.
Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.
Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.
Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.
You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.
5 Years Ago
You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.
Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.
It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.
Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"
"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.
"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.
"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.
As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."
You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.
With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."
He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.
"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.
"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.
You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.
After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.
"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.
You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.
"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.
Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."
"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.
Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.
You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.
Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.
"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.
"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"
Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"
Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.
Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.
There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.
Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.
You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.
The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.
"KYAAA!"
Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.
"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.
Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.
You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.
"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.
Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.
With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.
"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.
Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.
The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.
You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.
Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.
As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.
"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.
Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."
"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.
Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.
You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."
Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated
Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.
You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"
"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.
Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."
As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.
"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.
He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."
And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.
🚗
After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.
Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.
As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.
"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."
The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."
The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."
You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."
The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."
With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.
"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.
You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.
Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.
As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.
🚗
One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.
Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.
"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."
You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."
Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."
"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."
Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."
Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.
You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.
That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 days
Text
Not That Kind of Guy
Part Ten: 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, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, oral, dick piercing, spit, back shots, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is so annoyed with his mother. He discovers something and Ghost has plans for it. [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: August 16th
I thought for sure you’d kick me to the curb. But just like always, you never fail to amaze me. You like the side of me that no one else does, you like both of me, that’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one.
I don’t even like both of me.
You chose me, for whatever reasons you might have, pure curiosity or genuine care and interest… I don’t really care. All I care about is that you chose me. You want me. Me. All of me.
You’re choosing both of me. Separately. But soon you’ll love both sides of me, you’ll love me as a whole. That’s something no one has ever given to me. No one has ever wholly loved me, partially because I’ve never shown anyone all of me, partially because I used to fail miserably at balancing the black and white of my being.
Anakin the perfect boyfriend and future husband deserves your daylight love. Ghost the purposely imperfect and probably less than sane guy deserves your midnight curiosities.
I like this. Separating myself this way, it’s more manageable. I’ve tried for years and years to just be Anakin who is always pretending to be the man of the year, but is still just a tad too… off putting.
To everyone back home, I’ll always be the strange guy who only had two friends, himself and the neighbor kid who was only such good friends with him because they grew up in close proximity.
Anakin, the weird kid who didn’t know how to smile properly.
Anakin, the creep who stared too much, not at anything inappropriate. I wasn’t leering at women or anything, it’s just creepy for people to be looked at by someone who has ‘dead eyes’ and ‘doesn’t blink enough’.
Anakin, the ‘well he’s trying’ boy. The poor little guy who brought Brianna a handful of nettles on the playground, tied together with worms. ‘He meant well! He’s trying to be nice sweetie.’
Anakin, the ‘turn out your pockets before you come inside’ kid. You come home with a dead squirrel in your hoodie pocket once and your mother will never trust you not to have another stashed somewhere.
‘hey, it’s not that I don’t think you’re great! I do! You’re just not… great for me.’
‘please don’t look at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable’
‘Get away from my yard, I know what you’re doing!’
‘Who’s cat is that? Anakin! Where did you get this?’
‘Ani, you can’t keep doing this. I can’t protect you forever!’
‘Don’t you want to have friends? A girlfriend? To grow up and have a family? Don’t you want that?’
I was always Anakin-weird as hell, psycho, town freak-Skywalker.
In your daylight love I can be Anakin-nice guy, perfect smile, warm hugs-Skywalker.
I can shove everything else into The Pit until I’m ready to put on that Ghostface mask and take off my mask of normalcy. Weird isn’t it? Putting on a mask just to take off another one?
I like it though. I really like it.
I can be normal for you. I can. I can be normal. As long as Ghost can be let out of The Pit sometimes. No more balancing on the edge for Anakin. No more hiding and pretending and suffocating myself with the act of being a person.
If I can flood Anakin with all the things I’ve learned over the years, all the knowledge I’ve stored away in my mind’s filing cabinets… then you can have the man you deserve.
You’ll just have to come to terms with the fact that once Ghost makes his appearance, your Anakin is gone until further notice.
I think you’ll do well with that. You’re already handling it swimmingly.
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Diary Entry: August 17th
You left me a note of your own this morning, a question I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. When I walked into the kitchen and finally cracked open the diary you’d left laying there for me I was shocked. Absolutely and completely shocked.
‘When are you coming home?’
You’re asking Ghost to visit you? For real? I don’t even know how to react, I never thought you’d be the one requesting the company of my masked presence. I guess giving you an option, proving your feelings and your well-being mattered most to me was the right move.
Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to do. I’ll have to plan. I need to think.
I have to be so much more careful now.
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Date
August 18th
This is the first time Ghost hasn’t responded when you’ve contacted him. It’s been three days of nothing. He’s not been inside your house at all, no gifts, nothing has been moved, your cat’s bowl is empty when you get home.
His absence is more unsettling that his presence.
You’re beginning to wonder if you’ve angered him by asking about his next visit, was that the wrong thing to do? Did it freak him out? Asking about his plans… did it make him uncomfortable? Or is he tired of the chase now? Now that you’re interested… is it possible he’s lost the adrenaline rush of it all and he won’t be back at all?
There’s no time to ponder or worry right now, yet here you are staring into the foggy mirror in your bathroom post-shower.
“Hey sweetheart?” Anakin’s cheery voice floated to you from under the door.
“In here!” You called out, opening the door up and wiping off the mirror, grateful to have been pulled out of your mind.
“Want help picking something out?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to the crown of your head to smell your freshly washed hair.
“Mmm yeah if you want.” You nodded, smiling at him in the mirror.
“You excited?” He grinned, poking your sides to hear you giggle.
“Yeah… a little bit nervous though to be honest.” You confessed.
“What? Why? They’ll like you, I have no doubts.” He said with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulders.
“I know, it’s just… what if they don’t?” You asked nervously, looking away from his intense gaze in the mirror.
“They will.” He whispered kissing your temple.
“But what if they don’t?”
“They will, but, if for some reason they don’t then they’re stupid.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I know they will okay?”
“But Ani I’m worr-“
“Hey.” He said sharply, catching the words before they could leave your lips. “That’s enough.” He said in a softer tone.
He sighed, grabbing the hair brush from the sink countertop. He started brushing through your wet tangles, starting at the ends and working his way up.
“You’re important to me. They know that.” Anakin whispered, kissing your shoulder. “They know you’re something special, trust me. I’ve never brought anyone to meet them before.”
“Seriously?” You whipped your head around with a horrified expression on your face.
“Yeah seriously.” He nodded. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.” He gently directed your head back to face the mirror so he could continue brushing your hair.
“That makes it even worse!” You squeaked, slumping over against the sink, your arms crossed on the cold Formica top with your forehead rested on them.
“Why?” He asked as he sat the brush aside and placed his hand on your back, rubbing up and down the soft fabric of the towel around you.
“I’m the first girl you’re bringing home!” You said exasperatedly, “they’re gonna be expecting someone like… like super great and amazing.”
“You are super great and amazing.” He laughed, squeezing your hip and patting it gently.
“But-“
“Baby stop.” He said softly. “You’re gonna work yourself up all over nothin’. Please, just trust me okay? They’re gonna think you’re perfect.”
“Okay.” You sighed, standing back up and turning around to hug him tightly. “Alright. Let’s get ready then.”
“I’m ready.” He said gesturing to his tight grey crewneck and ripped black jeans. “All fancy and shit.”
“I wouldn’t say fancy, but I would say hot.” You grinned.
“Stop.” He chuckled, “should I go change? I can’t have you drooling over me at the dinner table with my parents.”
“No, no don’t change.” You shook your head with a giggle. “I can wait.”
“You can wait?” He gave you a devilishly toothy smile. “Wait for what darlin’? Does baby need some attention?”
He picked you up and sat you on the sink counter, giving your ass a firm squeeze. Immediately bringing one hand to your cheek, his thumb on your chin, he tilted your head to the side and hovered his lips just over your skin. Barely grazing the softness of his lips up the length of your neck to the dip beneath your ear. His free hand rubbing up and down your side, as he finally pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive flesh.
“My girl only waits when I say so.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.
He nuzzled into your neck, bringing your ass to the edge of the sink with one arm, using the same hand to slip beneath your towel and travel up your abdomen. The towel fell from where it was tightly tucked at your chest, Anakin’s hand cupping your breast gently as he thumbed at your nipple.
His lips soldered to yours in a passionate caress of lips and tongues, you could taste the minty flavor of the gum he constantly chewed, the forever lingering ghost of cigarettes and the delicious savory flavor that was uniquely him.
He was so good at distracting you with his mouth on yours that he could get away with just about anything and you’d never know until it was too late. Just like now, when you heard his belt buckle clank against the bathroom tiles. You couldn’t help but smile, it was something so simple, but it was one of your favorite things.
The sound will forever be associated with every kiss, every touch, every gasp and breath he’d given you and every intimate moment to come. The jangle of his belt buckle coming loose meant falling apart in his arms, it meant love without saying it aloud.
Anakin snickered as he teased your opening with one finger, swirling it around the outside, never fully dipping inside.
“Greedy little pussy.” His deep bedroom voice never failed to conjure up a gush of slick to your already drenched cunt. “So fucking wet already.”
“Mhm.” You nodded, wiggling your hips closer to his hand or at least you tried to, Anakin held you firmly in place, tsking at your attempt.
“See? Greedy.” He chuckled but gave in anyway, finally pushing in one digit to twirl around your gummy walls while he pumped in and out slowly.
“Can’t help it.” You panted, breathing heavily despite the relief of getting what you wanted, you needed more. “Missed you Ani.”
“Oh poor thing, I missed you too.” He cooed, adding a second finger while he rolled his wrist as he thrusted his fingers deeper.
Just as you were about to speak again, the shrill sound of your phone alarm blared next to you on the counter top, making you both jump.
“Jesus! what the fuck.” He snorted, “pause baby.” He said as he reached over to turn it off and check the time.
“I’m so glad you set shit like that or else we’d never get anywhere on time.” He said with a smile. “Now, hop down and let me bend you over.”
“What we’re doing a quickie?” You teased as you did as requested, sliding off the sink and obediently bending at the waist for him.
“As much as I hate it, yes.” He sighed. “You know I like to take my time.”
He said as he rubbed his rough palm over the swell of your ass, tugging his boxers down with his other hand. He shoved his palm under your chin and tapped your cheek.
“Spit.” His voice was rough and gritty, like he he was straining, fighting not to ram himself into you right that very second.
You spit into his hand, earning a mumbled: “Atta girl.”
He slicked his cock with your saliva, stroking himself quickly with the head of his cock pressed to your entrance, pleasuring himself but just torturing you with the heat of his length.
“Ani!” You whined, pushing your hips back against him.
You’d done exactly what he wanted. The second you pushed back he rammed his cock deep inside your pulsing heat. He set a brutal pace, wrapping one arm around your chest. Your hands instinctively flew up to hold onto his muscled forearm, his grip tightened and you gasped in surprise.
“Christ Anakin.” You breathed out, your eyes wide with shock at this sudden change of pace.
He was a slow and sensual lover, he liked to take his sweet time and caress every curve and kiss every centimeter of flesh that he could reach. But this was completely different, this was pure hunger, hips snapping against your ass at a punishing pace.
His other arm came down your stomach and spread your pussy lips apart to press and pinch the little hard nub that would have you shaking beneath him.
The way he was breathing so heavily in your ear, the hot air fanning over your cheek, it only heightened the feeling. Sending goosebumps down your skin and perking up your nipples again. The sound of your wetness was loud enough to hear with each and every plunge of his cock.
“You like it like this baby?” He chuckled, “sounds like you like it.”
“Uh huh.” You nodded rapidly, gripping his arm tightly as a particularly sharp streak of lightning shot through you.
Your pussy clenched down around his cock and you closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling the metal jewelry at the tip of his cock gave you as it stroked your insides roughly.
“Making such pretty noises,” he moaned, tilting your head back and to the side using your hair, to properly reach your mouth so he could ravage you with his tongue just as he was with his dick.
“C’mon baby, let me hear it.” He panted, sucking your lip between his teeth.
“That’s it, yeah there’s my girl.” He laughed, watching your eyes roll back until just the whites were visible. Your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt pulsed around him.
“Fuck… Fuck that’s- right there… please?” You whined, trapping his hand right where it was with your fingers digging into his wrist.
“Good manners.” He praised, licking along the length of your jaw. “Good manners baby, so proud.”
“Just like this huh?” He questioned teasingly, a smirk on his lips caught your attention in the foggy mirror. “You like the piercing don’t you baby? Feels good doesn’t it?”
“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut tight while you waited for him to push you over the edge. “L-love it. Don’t ever fucking take it out again.”
“Sure thing baby.” He snickered. “You ready sweetheart? Getting close aren’t you?”
“You can cum.” He said as you nodded, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as he drilled into you, rolling your clit between his finger and thumb.
The coil that had been wound tightly in your core snapped with his permission, a high pitched groan eeked out from between your gritted teeth, your cunt leaking down his shaft as he fucked you through the high.
“Lean down.” He said as he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gaping and gasping for breath.
“Perfect.” He groaned, one hand on your waist as you pressed your torso against the sink counter.
He stroked his cock wildly, his fingers digging into the plush of your waist, squeezing soothingly when his chin dropped to his chest and he stiffened up, holding his breath. All you could hear was the sound of his slick hand pumping his swollen length over your ass.
Until finally you felt the warm spurts of cum splatter on your skin, the viscous fluid dribbling down your lower spine until it slid over your ass hole.
“Fuck, that looks so damn pretty.” He breathed heavily, standing back to take in his art work.
“I should take a picture.” He whispered, kneeling behind you with a hand under each ass cheek, he licked up his own cum with a satisfied hum.
——————————————————————————
Approximately an hour after Anakin defiled you in the steamy confines of your bathroom, you were walking hand in hand into one of the nicer restaurants on the outer circle of the city. Meeting his mother terrified you, his stepfather not so much. Anakin didn’t grow up with him, he wasn’t a staple of his childhood.
But his mother was. She was a single parent, worked so incredibly hard to provide for herself and her son. She made sure he had everything he needed and then some, she was truly a saint.
“Chill out.” Anakin whispered, squeezing your hand gently. “You’re okay.”
You nodded and silently let Anakin pull you along behind the host who was leading you to the table where his mother and stepdad waited for you both.
You laid eyes on his mother first and the smile that spread across your lips was genuine. As soon as you saw her your worries started to slip into the backseat of your mind. She exuded a calming atmosphere, she seemed so serene and unbothered. What you’d give to live life like that.
You could see where Anakin got his comforting nature from, especially as she stood up and extended her hand to you. The gentle smile and warmth in the crinkle of her eyes was enough to melt your heart.
“I’m Shmi.” She introduced herself in a soft tone, looking to her side where her husband sat. “This is Cliegg, Anakin’s stepfather.” He gave you a nod and warm smile after clapping Anakin on the back in an awkward side hug.
“It’s great to meet you guys!” You chirped, introducing yourself quickly.
“You too sweetie.” Shmi smiled, moving to envelope her son in a hug.
“Hey momma.” Anakin chuckled, squishing her shorter frame in a big bear hug. “Miss ya.”
“Missed you too hon.” She said quietly, patting his chest before returning to her seat.
She gave Anakin a little smile of approval when he pulled your chair out for you to slide into, you wanted to gush about how grateful you were that she’d raised him to be such a gentleman but you got the feeling that she already knew.
The four of you engaged in a bit of small talk while looking over the menu options, you refrained from even picking up the menu, getting an odd look from Cliegg who just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘suit yourself’. The waiter returned with ice water for everyone and a bottle of wine for the table, getting ready to take orders with their pad and pen at the ready.
After Anakin’s mother and her husband ordered, Shmi looked at you expectantly but you just gave her a small smile as Anakin ordered for the both of you.
“Anakin.” She chided him after the waiter left. “She’s perfectly capable of speaking for herself.”
“I know she is.” He said firmly. “But she shouldn’t have to when I’m perfectly capable of doing it for her.”
“Shmi it’s okay really.” You laughed light, knocking Anakin’s foot with your own as a warning. “I prefer it honestly. I think it’s sweet.”
She gave you an odd look, her face was soft just as it had been the whole night so far, but her eyes conveyed something that you couldn’t quite place.
“Alright sweetie.” She conceded and nodded, the look passing over her eyes just as quickly as it appeared.
Anakin’s arm slid around your waist momentarily to offer some comfort, gently squeezing your hip and tapping his thumb rhythmically while he jumped straight back into the conversation he was having with his stepdad.
“So, Anakin’s told me quite a bit about you.” Shmi said warmly. “He said you’re a waitress and you’re taking classes at the college?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded happily. “The Bluebird Diner, it’s a real great place. Anakin’s a big fan of the butterscotch pie.” You smiled.
“The college… yes I’m taking classes. They’re all going well but I’m not set on a major yet and it’s getting to be the time that I decide.” You sucked in an anxious breath, giving her a nervous look.
“Well that’s perfectly fine.” She said, surprising you with her acceptance of your unplanned career. “I dropped out after my freshman year and didn’t complete my degree until Anakin was in highschool.” She explained.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Anakin’s side profile while he spoke to his stepfather. “Do you mind if I ask why?”
“Why I dropped out?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. “Well it was for a few reasons. Mostly because it’s difficult to work, educate yourself and raise a child alone.”
“I can imagine it would be.” You agreed with a humored smile, expecting to be met with a similar expression by Shmi.
Though you weren’t, instead she had a strange sort of reminiscent look about her. Not the fuzzy feeling of nostalgic reminiscing, more of a moment of remembering something unpleasant.
“Yes.” She nodded, “Anakin didn’t make it any easier.”
“Oh…” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her sudden shift in demeanor.
It seems she noticed your body language change and she quickly corrected herself by breaking out into a smile, sitting back up straighter in her seat.
“But what kid doesn’t?” She laughed lightly, reaching out to pat your hand affectionately.
“Right,” you nodded, chalking up her strange switch up as a mother remembering her rowdy son. It must be hard, seeing him grown up and finally bringing a girl to meet her.
“So how did you two meet?” Shmi asked, turning in her seat to face you fully, giving you her full attention. “Anakin said you’re neighbors?”
“Yeah! Yeah that’s how we met officially.” You nodded.
“Officially?”
“Well we found out after we’d talked a few times that we actually met at the bar he works at.” You explained, “he made a drink for me. I thought he looked like… semi-familiar, you know it’s hard to miss the tattoos.” You smiled.
“Oh that’s very true.” Shmi laughed. “Definitely stands out.”
“Yeah, so we officially met the day he was moving in across the hall from me.”
“Oh you’re telling her about move in day?” Anakin cut in with a big grin on his face.
“Mhm.” You nodded happily, gazing at him with a hint of adoration in your eyes. “Anakin had his stuff strewn out in the hallway and I knocked over a stack of his books.” You laughed and he squeezed your shoulder lightly.
“Yeah, then we chatted for a bit and she noticed a book of mine that she’d lost her copy of, so I gave it to her. That’s how I snatched her up.” He said proudly, gesturing to you with both hands like he was presenting a trophy.
“Huh, who knew you had a little romantic streak?” Cliegg laughed.
“Oh he definitely does!” You agreed eagerly.
“Well Anakin I have to say: I’m extremely impressed you’ve found such a lovely girl.” Shmi said softly, glancing at you with those warm eyes.
“Took you long enough.” His stepdad smacked his upper arm with the back of his hand with a deep laugh.
“Hey, I was holding out for the right one.” Anakin said with a satisfied smile. “I wanted my forever girl and I found her.”
——————————————————————————
The rest of the night went smoothly, no hiccups, no awkward moments, nothing you’d worried about came to fruition. His mother was as sweet as could be and her husband definitely suited her well. All in all, you were happy to have had the opportunity to get to know them. You were proud to be the first girl worthy of meeting them and you were thrilled that they seemed to like you as much as you liked them.
“See? Told you.” Anakin whispered, walking beside you out of the restaurant.
“You were right.” You sighed. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I was what?” He fake gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth dramatically.
“You heard me and I’m not repeating it.” You giggled, bumping him with your shoulder.
“Good enough for me princess, I’ll take it.” He smiled, pulling you close and pressing a chaste kiss to your hair.
You said your goodbyes to Anakin’s parents just outside the entrance, a full, loving hug from Shmi and a ‘you’re great but we’re not there yet’ double hand squeeze on one of yours from his stepdad.
You’d just started walk to the car when Shmi called out to Anakin, causing you both to swivel around.
“Ani, sweetheart can you come talk for just a second?” She asked sweetly.
“Oh… yeah okay.” He nodded, handing you the car keys.
“I’ll go see what’s up baby.” He said with a soft tone, “go ahead to the car.”
You followed instructions and did exactly as he asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and starting it so you could listen to the radio while Anakin was gone. You didn’t think much of it, it was probably just a bit of an after dinner debrief.
Anakin jogged over to his mom and leaned against Cliegg’s truck while he climbed in, leaving just Shmi and Anakin to speak alone.
“Ani she’s a wonderful girl.” Shmi said, squeezing his arm gently.
“Yeah she is, she’s perfect isn’t she?” He gushed, his pupils widened at just the thought of you.
“Yes-“
“She’s just… everything. She’s everything to me.” He continued, picking up his mothers hand.
“Just w-“
“I mean I really believe she’s the one mom.” He squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles in an affectionate way. “Really I do, she’s perfect. I- I’m so glad you guys like her, I knew you would of course but she was just so nervous and-“
“Anakin!” Shmi said sternly, her voice quickly going back to a calm tone after getting his attention.
“Anakin, sweetie, I’m so glad you’ve found your person.” She started slowy, holding eye contact with her son’s intense gaze. “I’m proud of you, you know that don’t you?”
“Yeah of course-“
“I’m proud of you. You’re a good boy honey.” She said quietly, “she’s a sweet girl, she deserves the best.”
“Well yeah she does, of course she does and-“
“Are you being your best?” Shmi asked him, her voice turning hard, alittle sharp. “Swear to me, Anakin. Swear you are?”
“Yes mom.” He sighed as though he were expecting this conversation.
“Are you still taking your medicine? Seeing your doctor?” She asked worriedly.
“Really?” He scoffed. “Please, let’s just drop it. This was a good day, please don’t ruin it by worrying over nothing.”
“Are you though?”
“Yes!” He hissed, clenching his teeth tightly. “Yes I’m still seeing the doctor and taking the stupid pills, yes.”
“Good. Very good.” She breathed a sigh of relief at his compliance.
“Don’t ask me if she knows.” Anakin said sternly. “She doesn’t.”
“You can’t just keep that from her, she has a right to know Anakin!”
“It’s not the right time for that.” He raised his voice slightly. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I’ll tell her on my own terms.”
“But you can’t-“
“I said: I’ll tell her on my own terms.” He breathed deeply, keeping his temper in check. “Please mom, just… just be happy for me okay? I’m doing really good, I’m happy. Please just let me be happy.”
“Alright.” She sighed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry sweetie, I shouldn’t have questioned you like that.”
“It’s okay. I know you worry.” He mumbled, pulling her into a hug, his hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.
“I- I just so badly want you to be happy.” She said quietly. “I want you to be safe, happy, and loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I am loved.” Anakin whispered, his voice rough, “You love me. Cliegg loves me. Owen probably loves me. I think she might love me too.”
“You think so?” She asked in a brighter tone.
“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, pulling back with a soft smile.
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Diary Entry: August 18th
I love my mother, but she worries too much. Talking to me like I’m some child to be coddled and babysat. I don’t need her or anyone else to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, especially when it comes to you, my little doe.
I know what’s best for you, for our relationship, and it’s my opinion that you don’t need to burden yourself with my past transgressions. I’m a changed man, what I did as a teenager, as a kid, has no reflection on who I am today.
Telling you about it is out of the question. At least for now… but, it’d probably be for the best to never, ever speak of it. I just don’t see the point in sharing something like that with you when it would cause your pretty little head to worry over something so irrelevant to the present.
Not to mention the stupid fucking doctor. It was ridiculous, asking me such a personal question when she knows very well that it upsets me when she interrogates me like that. It’s none of her business anymore, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself.
If anything, her questioning and distrust makes me want to do it even less just to prove that I can live without it.
I don’t need to see a fucking shrink if I’m taking the pills right? It’s overkill to do both. I don’t need to talk about my feelings, I don’t need to tell a stranger all about my past and the questionable things I’ve done. That’s why I have a journal and I think it suits me just fine.
Just another reason why I love you so much. You’ve helped me by getting me into writing stuff down instead of keeping it bottled up. You’re responsible for the thing that helps keep me from spiraling, you should be so proud of yourself, showing me this A+ coping skill.
It’s way better than: ‘Breathe in… breathe out… focus on your surroundings and count the things you can see and feel.’
Like what the hell is that? What’s that supposed to do? Distract me? Yeah right.
It can’t distract me from what’s going on in my head. Not when it’s so much all at once, all the time. It was exhausting to pretend that something like that was working for me. Journaling is so much better. So much easier.
It’s real and it’s tangible. I can flip through the pages and return to the good things, or I can skip over the bad stuff but take comfort in knowing that I was able to write it down.
So fuck the shrink, I’m not going back. I haven’t been in months and I’m doing perfectly fine.
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Diary Entry: August 20th
I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’m grasping at straws here, trying to figure out how to handle the Ghost situation.
I can tell you’re getting annoyed.
How am I supposed to respond? I know it’s been days but I can’t bring myself to answer the texts, the notes, the questions shouted into your otherwise empty home.
Hopefully you’ll understand, though I acknowledge that you have every reason to be upset with me. I’m assuming you’re feeling some sort of betrayal after the letter… I hate that. I really hate it. But it’s unavoidable.
You responded extremely well to my offer and the opportunity for a choice. So I’ll just do that again. That sounds reasonable, I’ll give a bit of an explanation, little apology and then I’ll let you choose what happens next.
This is what happens when I don’t fully plan ahead. I fuck things up and then it’s just a gommed up mess.
Then the whole situation with my mother really threw me off. It just added another layer of ‘what the hell’ to my already high stack of self imposed problems.
I want to do something. I need to do something. I have shit to get off my chest.
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Date
August 22nd
Finally, finally Ghost has gotten back in contact with you.
Now that the little grey envelope is sitting on your nightstand… you almost don’t want to open it. After all the silence on his end it’s impossible to guess what he has to say. Though as you’re convincing yourself not to open it, it’s found it’s way into your hand.
LETTER
Little Doe,
My absence was unexpected for you as well as myself, for that I apologize. I would go into detail if I could but unfortunately we both know that I can’t do that.
Let’s just say that my life got a bit complicated and I had to take a moment to iron things out. Now that everything is starched and pressed it’ll be back to business as usual.
While I was gone I took some time to consider your question as well. So I’ll match you with a question of my own.
I’ve been… stressed to say the very least. I don’t like to be destructive, I’m not that kind of guy. So I was wondering if you’d help me out, give me a bit of an alternative rage release?
Don’t lie, I know you’re curious. I know you want me just as badly as I want you. I bet you’re wet just reading this, aren’t you? I think it’s high time for you to be conscious enough to really enjoy everything I’m giving you. Don’t you agree?
I heard you like it rough. Is that true princess? I’ll give you rough, just say the word and I’ll make sure you’ve got marks that’ll last for weeks.
Next half of the question: here or elsewhere?
You sure do love to show off that little body of yours. I wonder if that would translate over into your sex life if you’d let it.
Your choice little doe.
——————————————————————————
‘He did not just ask me that… did he?’
You stared at the letter in your hands, your mind going well over the speed limit on the road to rational thinking. It was tempting, oh so very tempting. He’s right of course, he always is, you are curious. You do want him, maybe even need him.
It’s obvious he’s more than capable of giving you what you needed, what you wanted. The man had you feigning for him for weeks with no relief, all from teasing you, all while you were unaware.
It would be… interesting to see for yourself in the waking world what he’s done to you in dreamland. It’s alright if it’s for research purposes isn’t it? Is it really cheating if you don’t know the person at all, his identity is a complete mystery; that should count for something right?
Just a smidgen of a mitigating factor would be enough to sway you to say yes.
“Hey.” You called out, waving your hand as if he were there with you and you were trying to get his attention. “You listening?”
*Ping* a text came through almost immediately: ‘Always.’
“You’re serious about this?” You asked, holding the stationary in one hand, gesturing to it with your other.
‘I’m always serious.’
“Right.” You sighed, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged. “I don’t think this would be very kind of me to do. I just met Anakin’s mother, our relationship is getting serious.”
‘Congrats. What does that have to do with my need to fuck you?’
“Uh everything.” You scoffed. “That’s cheating. I don’t want to cheat on him!”
‘Defensive are we?’
“Yes,” you hissed, scrubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand, “very defensive for good reason.”
‘I admire your loyalty, but be honest with yourself little doe.’
“I am being honest! I don’t want to cheat on him!” You shouted back.
‘You didn’t say that you didn’t want me to fuck your though.’
“Christ.” You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I didn’t say that. You’re right.” You conceded.
‘Then it’s a yes?’
“Not necessarily.” You snapped, the true answer was right there, clawing away in the cage of your teeth.
‘So no then.’
“That’s not what I said.” You said hastily, alittle too eager to correct him.
‘I see.’
“What?” You scoffed, staring at the message that’d popped up.
Another followed, this time a voice message. You hesitated before pressing play, holding your phon up to your ear to hear it clearly. His gravely distorted voice washed over you in all its unholy temptation.
“Don’t worry little doe. I know just what you need.” He paused for a moment as if considering something, “It’s been a while since you’ve had a night out. Go have some fun, I’ll catch up with you.”
“Oh no. Absolutely not. You’re not knocking me out cold again.” You said angrily.
‘Of course not. I want you to be awake for this.’
“Then… then why do you want me to go to the bar?” You asked suspiciously.
‘Surprise :)’
“Fuck.” You muttered, rubbing your temples before picking up your phone to message Luke and Han, as well as your good friend from book club.
“Just to be perfectly clear: I’m not saying yes!” You said, looking around the room with a red tint to your cheeks.
‘Not a no either.’
You could practically hear his voice, that teasing tone you knew all too well. What an ass, a stupid sexy ass.
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DATE
August 24th
“Oh look at you princess.” Anakin whistled wrapping his arms around your waist when you walked out of your bedroom in a sweet little pink dress.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” He mumbled and he nuzzled into your hair, taking a deep breath to smell the scent of your shampoo.
“Oh hush,” you giggled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “can’t be saying stuff like that, you’re gonna get me all flustered.”
“What if I want you to be all flustered?” He chuckled, tipping your head back to capture your lips and invade your mouth with a gentle caress of his tongue.
“Mmm taste as good as you look baby.” He whispered, his words fanning over your bottom lip and straight down to your core.
“Anakin…” you whined, looking up at him and wishing for mercy.
“Shhh don’t whine.” He laughed, pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll quit teasin’… for now.”
“But you do look gorgeous you know?” He said sincerely, very lightly touching your cheek so as not to mess up your makeup.
“Thank you Ani.” You said shyly, leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose.
“So what’s the plan again? Dinner at that one Thai place you like? Then you’re going to the bar?” He asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, his hands resting on the countertop at his sides.
“Yep that’s the plan.” You nodded, checking your bag to ensure you had everything you needed.
“Call me when you get there? You’re walking aren’t you?” He asked, looking at you with a gaze of concern that warmed your heart.
“Yes I’m walking and yes I will call when I get to the restaurant and I’ll text when I’m leaving.” You promised, tossing your mini backpack over your shoulder and giving him a hug and soft kiss.
“Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you at the bar.” He said in a low tone, smoothing out your hair as he held you close for a moment longer.
You left your home and Anakin behind, trotting down the steps to the city streets below. A walk would be good for you, plenty of time to think and plenty of time to clear your head of those thoughts before you reach your destination.
——————————————————————————
Diary Entry: August 24th
I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to do something for you.
I know it’s a bit presumptuous, but I think I know you fairly well and if you’re reading those nasty, raunchy books on your bookshelf… well I think it’s safe to say you might be interested in some of it for yourself right? You already think a man in a Ghostface mask with a knife is sexy.
I’m gonna give you what I think you like. I know I will love it. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I was always alittle too chicken to do it. Even before we started dating, before you knew about Ghost. It’s been a fantasy of mine that I’ve thought of way more often than I’ll ever admit.
But now I have your unspoken permission, well at least your non-denial of it. Which isn’t technically consent but who cares; it’s been so blurred between us already.
Honestly its super comforting the way that you so vehemently defend our relationship. I’ve never had someone go to bat for me like that before, it’s endearing. It makes me feel cared for, loved, needed.
I know it’s hypocritical, trust me I know that; but it does kind of get on my nerves as well. I want you to say yes and say it enthusiastically to Ghost. At the same time I want you to scream and kick and tell him to fuck off.
Being jealous of both sides of myself is frankly quite exhausting. I don’t know what I want other than you. I just want you. I want you to want both of me and you do, but that’s also a problem.
You think I’m two separate people and that makes me a tad worried.
The only comfort it brings me is that you aren’t enthusiastically saying yes. You’re denying the truth of course, we both know that. But you’re also keeping some loyalty to our relationship and for that I am so eternally grateful.
I love the way you love me even if you haven’t said it aloud just yet. You will soon.
——————————————————————————
Your group of friends were gathered outside the restaurant, as the last one to arrive, you of course received a light dose of good natured insults and chiding.
“There she is!” Your best girl friend Sam yelled, pointing you out to Luke and Han as you walked up the sidewalk.
“Finally! I’m starving!” Luke sighed liked he’d been waiting hours, according to your phone you were still two minutes early.
“Shut up and let’s get some food.” You snorted, pushing him through the door and into the yummy little Thai place.
After getting settled into your cozy corner booth you placed your orders and slipping into the familiar routine of gossiping and story swapping.
“How did meeting the parents go?” Luke asked, propping his chin up on the heel of his hand, his fingers drumming along his cheek.
“It went so smooth and oh my god his mom is so sweet.” You said, leaning forward in your seat.
“I was so worried they wouldn’t like me, but I think they did. Anakin said they did, I mean they really seemed to at least.” You nodded.
“Oh I’m sure they loved you. You’re the perfect girl to bring home to the parents. You’re the whole package.” Sam smiled warmly.
“You’re too sweet, giving me way too much credit.” You sighed, your smile faltering slightly.
“Anyway… yeah his mom was great. I think she was just alittle worried you know? I’m the first girl he’s brought to meet them so I feel like there was a bit of worry there at the beginning.” You explained, talking with your hands.
“She was talking about him as a kid and she just looked so… sad I guess?” You sighed, trying to find a better word to describe it but came up short. “So I think maybe she was just sad about him growing up, finally finding someone he wants to be serious with.”
“That’s so sweet.” Sam said, squeezing your hand. “I didn’t realize you were the first girl he’d brought them.”
“Yeah,” you nodded proudly. “He said he was waiting for the right one.”
“Ew that’s so gross.” Luke gagged.
“Fuck off.” You tossed a good natured insult at him, rolling your eyes despite feeling an immense sense of accomplishment… maybe a hint of guilt there too.
After the meal was finished, you all walked together out of the restaurant and set out on foot toward The Cerulean. A leisurely pace was set by Han and Luke who were happily at the head of the group while you and Sam hung back just a few steps behind.
“So he’s gonna be here tonight?” Sam asked curiously.
“Oh, yeah but he’s working though.” You said.
“Wait really?” She asked in surprise. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would that bother me? If anything it’s comforting.” You scoffed.
“Well he’s like… he’s just there you know? Not participating he’s just gonna be watching.” She made a displeased face.
“Trust me, I have no qualms with being… looked out for.” You smirked.
“So you don’t mind that he’s going to be watching you the whole night?”
“No, I don’t.” You shrugged, walking the through the door as Luke held it open for the two of you to enter.
You broke off from your friends in search of Anakin, you spotted him behind the bar, animatedly speaking with a coworker that you vaguely remember Anakin referring to as ‘Trev’.
It was like you had some sort of homing beacon, Anakin immediately whipped his head toward you and beckoned you over with two fingers. He trotted around the bar to meet you halfway, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you flush against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“How was dinner, pretty girl?” He asked, his voice low and smooth.
“It was good!” You chirped, squeezing him tightly again before he let you go. “Told them allllll about meeting your parents.”
“Good things only I hope?” He laughed.
“Of course. Good things only, always.” You nodded with a big smile.
“It’s not nearly as busy in here as usual.” You observed, scanning the large space and noticing a much lower head count than the times you’ve been here before.
“Oh I know,” Anakin nodded, “there’s some kind of opening anniversary for a pub downtown. Free beer or something like that.” He shrugged.
“Huh, well I’ll have to tell Han.” You said.
“Mhm yeah I’m sure he’d enjoy it.” He agreed, “you going too?”
“No, I’m going home when I leave here.” You shook your head.
“Alright baby, listen, I gotta go back.” He nodded toward the bar. “You know where to find me.”
With that he gave you a chaste kiss to the forehead and quickly walked back behind the counter, stealing a drink order right from under Trevor’s nose as he slid in front of him, you heard him snicker and the *thwap* of a towel snapping against his leg in retaliation as you walked back to your friends.
You spotted them off to the corner, Sam speaking with a shorter man you’d never seen before. You snuck behind her with a cheeky grin and tugged a lock of her hair gently as you passed by, she was unfazed, simply giving you a pink cheeked smile.
“Hey Han,” you called out to get his attention as you drew closer, his head following the sound until he saw you. “You know there’s a bar even going on downtown tonight?” You asked, coming to a stop just in front of him.
“Yeah, it’s at The Drunken Horseman.” He nodded, “I think a few of the guys were headed out there actually. Free beer.”
“W-well why didn’t you go?” You asked in confusion, knowing he wouldn’t have just passed it up for no reason.
“Cause a little lady I know likes it better here.” He grinned, tapping your forehead with his pointer finger.
“Aw, you didn’t have to do that Han.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. “You should’ve said something!”
“Whoa, don’t get all riled up. I don’t mind it at all.” He reassured you. “I can still do plenty of people watching from right here.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the table top he leaned against.
He waved his hand over to the left, your eyes following the gesture until your gaze was met with a younger guy, unapologetically and unsuccessfully trying to speak to a group of girls despite being seemingly incredibly wasted.
“I guess that’s true.” You laughed lightly, the pull of guilt still tugging at your guts.
“Listen, after we’re done here you should go!” You encouraged, “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get to do something that you wanna do.”
“Babes it’s no big deal.” Luke said, popping out from his seat behind Han’s massive frame. “I think we planned on skipping out a bit early to do exactly that.”
“Really?” You sighed in relief. “Good, I’m glad.”
“We did?” Han asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Uh yes, we had a whole conversation about this yesterday you oaf.” Luke scoffed.
“Oaf?” Han let out a loud, bellowing laugh at Luke’s poor attempt at an insult, making a little smile creep up the corner of your lips as well.
——————————————————————————
You decided collectively to call it a night just a little before 11:00pm so that Luke and Han could still catch Han’s group of friends at The Drunken Horseman. You said your goodbyes to them at the door and turned to face Sam after watching them leave.
“Are you positive you’re okay with walking home alone?” She asked you worriedly, “like absolutely positive?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely positive.” You said with an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Okay.” She nodded, satisfied with your answer.
“You better do the same.” You said, catching her arm as she started to leave with the man she’d been chatting with all night.
“I will,” she signaled for him to wait while she got up close to whisper to you, “I looked him up when I went to the bathroom earlier. Arrest records and everything.”
“Good.” You grinned. “Have fun then.”
You spun on your heel to find Anakin and tell him goodbye, heading straight to the bar and catching him in another conversation. This time with a female patron that you’d seen before.
“I don’t understand.” She scoffed.
“What don’t you understand?” He scowled.
“I just don’t get why you’re mean to me!” She huffed. “I come in here all the time and I’m always nice to you, yet you’re an ass every time I speak to you!”
“Then stop speaking to me.” He said flatly, pretending to inspect a glass that he was drying.
“I should report you to management.”
“Please do.” Anakin shot back.
“They’ll fire you, for being rude to customers.” She threatened, crossing her arms.
“They’ll ban you, for harassing employees.” He snorted.
“God. You’re ridiculous, I asked you out one time-“
“Yeah and it was one time too many.” He snapped at her.
“I have a beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend.” He said sternly. “She is my everything and you, are nothing.”
“Like she’s-“
“Listen. Even if I didn’t have a girlfriend I wouldn’t go after a whore with loud ass mouth like you.” He snarled. “Leave. I’m banning you myself.”
“You can’t do that!” She yelled
“He can’t do what?” His coworker Trevor came over quickly after hearing her shout at Anakin.
“He- he’s trying to ban me.” She said angrily.
“What did you do?” Trevor asked the girl and looked over at Anakin.
“Nothing! I was just trying to order a drink and he called me a whore!”
“I did call her a whore.” Anakin willingly admitted with zero remorse.
“Wait is this the one?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah, she’s been bugging me, Jason and Stevie for the last few weeks. Comes in every now and again and won’t take a fucking hint from any of us.” Anakin grunted as he glanced over at her.
“That’s not true I w-“
“Nope. That’s enough.” Trevor said, obviously irritated, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her.
“Hey you can’t do that!” She shouted trying to grab his phone.
“You’re going on the wall honey.” He said, thumbing over his shoulder at a cork board of banned patrons.
“You’re serious?” She scoffed, “you can’t be serious.”
“Deadly. Now get out.” Trevor barked, following her angry path across the bar to ensure that she did in fact leave.
“Baby?” Anakin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized you’d been standing there with your mouth open as he tapped the underside of your chin.
“Anakin you didn’t tell me it was that bad.” You said, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, now standing in front of you.
“Ah.” He grumbled.
“I didn’t want to worry you sweetheart.” He said softly, taking both your hands in his. “She’s not coming back now so nothin’ to worry yourself over.” He said with a reassuring smile.
“That’s just awful though. She was doing that to three of you?” You asked in disgust.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s April and Jess who get the creeps but every now and again there’s a girl who does it.”
“How much did you hear baby?” He asked, pushing hair from your face and holding your cheek.
“Just the tail end of it.” You lied.
“You know I’d never even entertain something like that don’t you, princess?” He asked, lines of worry etching into his forehead, “Never, I’d never even breathe in the direction of another woman.”
“I know.” You said with a small smile, you were being truthful. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about his faithfulness, especially now after witnessing him tear into a girl over it.
“I know I have nothing to worry about.” You said, giving his hands a squeeze.
You might not, but Anakin does. Anakin does have to worry about your faithfulness whether he knows it or not; there’s a Ghost haunting every corner of your life that has no plans on leaving anytime soon.
“Good.” He said with a warm smile, pulling you into a hug. “Are you leaving?” He asked, pulling g back slightly.
“Yeah I’m headed home now.” You nodded.
“Alright pretty girl.” He said, kissing your forehead. “Be good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home?”
“Of course.” You nodded with a big smile that faded as soon as you turned around to leave.
——————————————————————————
“I saw your girl leaving, you headed out now?” Trevor asked Anakin as he was untying his apron.
“Yep, I’m leaving too.” Anakin nodded, folding the apron and tucking it under the counter. “Unless you need me to stay?”
“Thanks for coming in to help out man.” Trevor said, clapping him on the back. “We got it from here.”
“No problem, you know I don’t mind.” Anakin said, grabbing his wallet and keys. “See ya.”
Anakin left hastily stopping at his car in the back parking lot to grab his essentials. He checked his phone and saw that you’d made an unexpected stop at the little corner store for what he assumed was a snack.
“Perfect.” He grinned, tossing his hoodie over his head and switching out his shoes.
He tucked his mask under his arm and hopped into his car, parking it up the road a bit closer to where you were, just to get it out of his work parking lot. He jumped out, locked it and slipped into the nearest alley. He grumbled but hopped the fence at the end and continued down until he hit the opposite street, running parallel to the one you’d be taking.
“One… two… three… four… there.” He mumbled to himself as he passed by alleys between buildings until he found the one he was looking for.
This particular place was perfect for his purposes, no cameras, no foot traffic, no dumpster, a brick wall on one end and a recessed entrance to the building on the left. A building that was currently up for lease, leaving it tenant free. He scaled the short brick wall on his side of the alley, using the dumpster there as a boost.
Anakin’s sneakers hit the pavement with a satisfying noise when he dropped down from above. He tugged on his gloves and mask, hitting the side button on the voice box while he walked up the alleyway, his phone in his hand.
Your little blue dot was quickly approaching and his adrenaline was running high. His body practically vibrating in anticipation of what he was about to do, with your footsteps in audible range he tucked his phone away and bunched up a black handkerchief in the palm of his leather glove.
Your long shadow came into view, the lamppost casting it down on the side walk below. It shortened with each step you took. Seeing no shadow behind you, no other footsteps, Anakin knew it was safe to enact his plan.
The very second you came into view he lunged forward, clapping his hand with the bandanna in it over your mouth. Instinctively you parted your lips to scream, allowing him to shove the fabric in your mouth as he dragged you by waist and under your arms as you kicked and thrashed.
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Part Eleven
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