#and make us foot the bill for further action

[arctic-hands]

WOULD BE NICE if the management-hired Orkin "pros" would do anything more than just put snap traps down in places we can't access so the mice just start decaying until the maintenance comes five days later to remove them instead of actually doing anything about this mouse infestation

[whumpity-whumpwhump]

AI-less whumptober 2024: Trauma Thursday, relapse

Shirley exited the small convenience store and went to the bus stop, foot tapping rhythmically on the concrete, her fingers running up and down the surface of the small bag in her pocket.

Her mind buzzed in a weird anticipation, but she was fully aware of the true reason she was doing this and she couldn't help feeling as if her skin was crawling.

The bus came to a stop and she brushed past the people exiting it, seeking a seat further to the back. She slid into one, pointedly glaring at anyone who looked like they were going to sit next to her.

Marcus wouldn't want this, she knew that. He'd want her to stay clean, even go to a fucking rehab center if she had too. But fuck that, Marcus wasn't here. He wasn't around to do stupid dares with. He wasn't sitting in Slough House waiting for her to come back so they could gamble with paperclips.

He was fucking dead. And he didn't have to be. All he needed to do was stay back with her, stay in Lamb's office and he'd still be alive today.

No, no she shouldn't be angry with him. It wasn't his fault the idiot had gotten himself killed. It was Cartwright's psychotic brother who had done that.

She got off the bus, carefully willing her mind to go blank as she started for her apartment.

---

She let the door bang closed behind her, heading straight for the bathroom, not even shedding her jacket.

She took the small bag out of her pocket, dropped it onto the countertop and stared.

Images flashed through her mind, Marcus, dead in the one place they were supposed to be safe. Cassie and the kids, crying at the funeral. Patrice, dead on the floor after Coe had convinced her not to kill him. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that. Wished he had tried escaping, that she could've killed him herself, was grateful to Coe for putting five bullets through the bastard.

Once again the image of Marcus, dead at the top of the stairs came to her mind.

"Nope, fuck this."

Shirley poured the cocaine onto the countertop, lining it up into two neat lines. She couldn't help the surge of excitement at the action, taking out her bill and rolling, gentle as she performed this sacred ritual. yeah, it was horrible for her and a really shitty idea but that didn't stop the familiar anchoring it gave her. She snorted both lines and stood back, looking at herself in the mirror for a moment.

Damn, when did she get so skinny?

She pulled out her phone, shooting a quick text to Lamb that she wasn't coming in tomorrow. He'd be annoyed if he didn't at least get a heads up. Well, he'd be annoyed anyway but less so this way.

She walked to the kitchen, pouring out a bowl of corn flakes and adding a scoop of sugar. Next she added the milk and yeah- now she was starting to feel it, that familiar surge of adrenaline. She rode it out, closing her eyes and sitting back as a rush of euphoria engulfed her.

After a few seconds she opened her eyes and turned to eat her cereal.

About ten-ish minutes later a knock sounded at the door. She walked over, peeking through the hole to see River. She stood back, she sure as hell didn't want to talk to anyone from work right now. She waited for him to leave. He knocked again, calling out,

"Shirley come on I know you're in there, Roddy saw you enter the building like twenty minutes ago."

"And what makes you think I'd be here and not off hanging with a mate from the same apartment building or shagging somebody?" She demanded, opening the door with a scowl.

"You seemed like you were having a bit of a rough day is all and I figured no one at Slough House is really sharing about that kind of thing but you might wanna talk to someone." He seemed hesitant, like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing.

Marcus used to be the one she talked to. Not anything to serious mind you, they mostly just ribbed each other. Kinda like her and her siblings before they'd grown apart.

"What, Standish send you to check on me?"

"No," River shook his head, "I just figured, I mean it's only been a few days and...." he trailed off awkwardly then looked down at the case of beer in his hand.

"I brought beer if you just wanna drink and brood together in silence."

As if a case of beer or a conversation about their feelings would make Patrice any less his brother, as if it wasn't his stupid family drama that got Marcus killed in the first place.

She took the beer but held up a hand to stop River from coming in. She just wanted to be alone for christ's sake.

"Fuck off, Cartwright."

"What, you just take my beer and tell me to piss off? Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

She dropped the beer on the ground, turning to Cartwright.

"Alright yeah, you can go back in time and kill your fucking assassin family before they take out one of our own."

His face flickered but he stayed silent.

"Pardon me if I don't wanna be around the brother of the psychotic prick who murdered my partner!"

"...Right, sorry," Cartwright gave her a pained smile and turned, walking back down the hall.

Shirley shut the door and turned to her empty apartment, anger dying down to be replaced with nothing but the faintest spark of regret.

[tomorrowusa]

Russia makes money primarily off of fossil fuels. It does have decent agricultural exports but those alone could not pay for Putin's war machine. So disrupting Russia's oil and gas industry is a way of reducing the country's revenue which allows it to conduct an illegal war of aggression.

Hostile drones have been winding their way across the Russian landscape this winter, striking refineries and related oil and gas infrastructure all the way from the Baltic Sea in the northwest to the Black Sea in the southwest. Drones attacked both the Ilsky and Afipsky refineries in Russia's Krasnodar region, east of occupied Crimea, on Feb. 9, less than a week after another refinery in Volgograd, the largest in southern Russia, was hit. Further attacks have struck other refineries and oil depots near the Ukrainian border, as well as much deeper into Russian territory. Though Ukraine does not typically confirm its actions outside its borders and Russia has not officially acknowledged drones were the cause of these incidents, media reports have identified Kyiv's hand in the attacks occurring with regularity as Moscow's invasion of Ukraine nears the two-year mark. Analysts say the drone attacks are demonstrating that oil and gas targets of economic significance are not out of reach, even far from the front lines of the war. 

The late Sen. John McCain nailed it.

Late U.S. Senator John McCain once derisively described Russia as being "a gas station masquerading as a country" — a jibe underlining the critical importance of oil and gas products to Moscow. Indeed, Russia draws heavily on its resource reserves to support the state. The International Energy Agency says Russia's oil and gas export revenues accounted for 45 per cent of its federal budget in 2021.

Of course a lot of that fossil fuel money gets siphoned off by corrupt oligarchs who use it to purchase superyachts and expensive real estate in Western countries.

A January attack on a Novatek facility in Ust-Luga halted gas processing operations there for several weeks. The plant processes gas condensate into various fuel products that are exported to customers in Turkey and Asia, according to Reuters. Sergey Vakulenko, a former strategy executive at Gazprom Neft, a subsidiary of the larger Russian energy firm, believes the Ust-Luga episode may illustrate a bigger problem for Russia than a temporary disruption to production at a single facility. In a recent analysis published online, Vakulenko reasoned that if small drones can get all the way to Ust-Luga, which is hundreds of kilometres from the Ukrainian border, there are some 18 Russian refineries��at risk of being targeted, and they account for more than half the country's refinery production. He's not the only analyst noticing this concern for Russia's refineries.

And because hundreds of thousands of competent Russians have (wisely) fled the country and others are being used as cannon fodder for Putin's war, it takes longer to repair facilities damaged by Ukraine.

And the fossil fuel industry mostly has to fend for itself.

Maxim Starchak, an independent expert on the Russian defence and nuclear industry, says regulations have been put in place to restrict drones from flying close to "the most significant fuel and energy sector facilities" and operators are using electronic warfare systems to defend against drone threats. But Starchak said Russian energy firms must foot the bill for expenses related to defence of their facilities. "Moscow will not specifically help," he said, noting Russian authorities may hold firms accountable for not putting measures in place to protect their facilities.

So that burden cuts down on revenue as it adds to the cost of doing business.

One thing Ukraine has been innovative at is drone technology. It's become one of the world's leaders at that.

As Ukraine continues to fight to repel Russian forces from its lands, its military leaders have signalled drones and related technology will be needed to win the war that seems to have no end in sight.

And Western countries find it easier to provide additional drones to Ukraine than to send tanks and cruise missiles.

So Russian convict troops can luxuriate in the ruins of Avdiivka while their oil refineries back home get blown up by Ukraine.

EDIT: Speaking of fuel, just saw this at NPR.

Putin's regime is 'running out of fuel,' a Russian opposition activist tells NPR

[charlesjosephwrites]

Get To Know My OC Tag - Ms. Psychic Edition

Jumping in on my own open tag because I really like this method of introducing characters. Also, I figured it was about time I talk about the other title character for The Magician and Ms. Psychic. Check out April's character intro HERE.

First, since this got pretty long, I'd like to leave this as an open tag for whoever else wants to introduce one of their characters. Don't be shy about tagging me! I love hearing about people's characters!

Now, without any further ado, here's Ms. Psychic!

We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please come back later!

The bold text fades from the screen to reveal the news anchor, slightly disheveled, but otherwise fine.

"Thank you for sticking with us, everybody," he addresses the camera with his usual made-for-tv smile. "I'm pleased to announce that the Magician has been taken care of, all thanks to our extra special surprise guest, Ms. Psychic!"

Ms. Psychic enters on cue, her brink pink cape billowing behind her in the non-existent wind and her long black hair floating up in the air as though she was underwater. Her movements are stiff and awkward as she shuffles forwards, and she regards the camera with the same sort of suspicious squint she might give to a misbehaving supervillain. Gravity seemingly takes a hold of her as she sinks into the seat next to the news anchor, and she has to brush a few rogue strands of hair away from her face.

"Um... hi." She gives the camera a hesitant little wave.

"Ms. Psychic has agreed to answer a few questions for us tonight!" The new anchor announces gleefully. "Are we ready to get started?"

"Sure." She nods slowly. "Let's..." Her voice catches in her throat. "Let's make this quick, please."

"Of course." The news anchor flashes her a smile. "Onto the first question."

1. Are you named after anyone?

"My mom was a small time superhero. She... well..." Ms. Psychic exhales sharply. "She died in action when I was a kid, and I took on her name as a way to honor her."

2. When was the last time you cried?

"I guess it was pretty recently. I mean... I try not to dwell on it too much, but fighting supervillains is dangerous, and... well..." She hesitates. "You can't always save everyone, you know? It's just... kind of hard to deal with that sometimes."

3. Do you have kids?

"No. I'm... not sure I should, either. I'd be risking some supervillain finding out about them and putting them in danger."

4. Do you use sarcasm?

"Sometimes, I guess."

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Their voice. You can tell a lot about someone by the way they speak."

6. What's your eye color?

"They're dark brown."

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

"Happy endings, definitely. I especially love those campy old sci-fi movies."

8. Any special talents?

She has to think about this question for a moment. "Um... I can bench press a hundred and forty pounds."

9. Where were you born?

"I was born and raised right here in Metrovale."

10. What are your hobbies?

"I don't have that much free time for hobbies. I guess I like going to the gym? It's good for stress relief, and I've got to stay in shape somehow."

11. Have you any pets?

"No. Like I said, I don't have much free time to devote to something like taking care of a pet."

12. What sports do you play/have played?

"I played softball when I was a kid. I really liked it, but I had to stop when my powers started manifesting. I was upset at the time, but it wouldn't have been fair to the other kids with the whole telekinesis thing, so..." Ms. Psychic shrugs. "It was for the best."

13. How tall are you?

"I'm five foot two."

14. Favorite subject in school?

"I always liked science class. I think my favorite was biology."

15. Dream job?

"I've wanted to be a superhero ever since I was a kid. It doesn't exactly pay the bills, but I don't mind the side gig."

"And that was the last question," the news anchor says. "Thank you so much for joining us here tonight."

"N... no problem. Now, if you'll excuse me-" Ms. Psychic rises to her feet, her chair carefully pushing itself in as she takes a step back - "I've got some business to attend to."

[myhahnestopinion]

THE AARONS 2023 - Best TV Show

While I do highly recommend all the shows listed here, I don’t expect you to watch that much TV if you don’t want to. We’re The Aarons, not The Marvels. Here are The Aarons for Best TV Show:

#10. My Adventures with Superman (Season 1) - Adult Swim

As James Gunn steels himself for Superman’s big-screen revival, he would be remiss not to take notes from the character’s recent small-screen success. Alongside the still-strong Superman & Lois, the new Adult Swim show confirms the key to the character’s appeal is his good-natured boyish charm. Adventures bolsters this tenderness with pretty animation and a storytelling focus on the young hero’s budding relationships with Lois Lane & Jimmy Olsen. The series stands out with a fresh-spin on its famous rogues gallery, including tantalizing teases of an imminent alien invasion, but it’s this spot-on romantic characterization that will sweep viewers off their feet and up, up, and away. 

#9. Star Trek: Picard (Season 3) - Paramount+

The final installment of the Star Trek spin-off boldly goes where it has never gone before: onto a ‘Best of TV’ list. It only took a complete creative overhaul and the return of the entire Next Generation crew to make it so. Functioning as a mulligan for both that cast’s previous send-off and the first two seasons, Picard’s third outing put the long-standing chemistry of its venerable characters front and center. In between all the nostalgic spaceships and evolving relationships, the show wove a madcap mystery out of surprising pieces from the franchise’s extensive lore. As unbelievable as it sounds, that adaptable energy made Picard one of the bright spots of TV last year (and there are four lights.) 

#8. I’m a Virgo (Season 1) - Amazon Prime

Sorry to Bother You filmmaker Boots Riley made another welcome addition to his idiosyncratic output with I’m a Virgo. If the director’s involvement wasn’t enough of a signal to watch, the premise is even more intriguing: the coming-of-age of a 13-foot-tall Black teenager named Cootie in an absurdist version of Oakland policed by a fanatic billionaire superhero. An awe-inspiring mix of puppetry, prop design, and perspective is used to bring this giant protagonist to life. It’s a tall tale, but not one without real-world relevance. Riley uses the towering position afforded him to champion racial and economic equality; the strangest thing about the surreal show ends up being that Amazon of all places signed off on it.

#7. Barry (Season 4) - HBO

Last year’s Aarons noted that Barry was gunning for a place in television’s greatest works. With a fantastic final season, it hit its target. The culminating episodes consolidated directorial duties in the multiskilled Bill Hader while bifurcating their storyline with a dramatic eight-year time-skip. In the first half, Barry stages a dazzling prison break; the second half makes it clear that the repercussions of one’s actions are far harder to escape from. This complexity further complicated a dark comedy that has always been difficult to define. Though the series got a lot bleaker as it went on, its status as a showbiz satire returned with a vengeance during the final curtain call. Without shying away from the fallout of its violence, Barry still manages to get the last laugh.

#6. The Last of Us (Season 1) - HBO

The Last of Us has been one of the greatest experiences in video games for a decade now; with the first-rate television adaptation, non-gamers now have no excuse to be left behind. The post-apocalyptic road-trip, shepherded by Chernobyl’s Craig Mazin and game creator Neil Druckmann, upgrades the original’s already-impressive production design with the ample resources afforded by HBO. Players will recognize, yet still recoil from, the show’s unsettling set-pieces, but it’s the small deviations from the source material where everything truly clicks into place. Taking advantage of the medium to enrich its world-building and side characters ensured the story held lasting intrigue for new and old fans alike.

#5. Reservation Dogs (Season 3) - FX

The news that Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi’s comedy would end with its third season was met with a lot of reservation since the series remained as brilliant as always. However, the decision secured the show’s ability to go out as one of the top dogs of TV. The final season, like the heartful series as a whole, advocated for embracing one’s community. It embodied this theme by entwining the advancing arcs of its young cast with that of its eccentric elder characters. These mirrored storylines fostered an unforgettable forum for processing grief, celebrating joy, and passing along wisdom between generations. As made explicit by the series finale, Reservation Dogs’ ending should not be viewed as a time of mourning but of happiness for all the life it had.

#4. Mrs. Davis (Miniseries) - Peacock

One of Peacock’s best shots at becoming a competitive streaming service lies in the defiance of an algorithm. Hailing from Watchmen’s Damon Lindelof, the bizarre Mrs. Davis sends devout nun Sister Simone on a quest for the Holy Grail as a last ditch effort to rid the world of an omnipresent artificial intelligence. The miniseries is recommended if you like ambitious sci-fi, spiritual journeys, unpredictable plot-twists, magic tricks, Super Bowl commercials, or chicken wings. The sheer absurdity of its various plot threads may seem at times like a lot of horsing around, but those who hold faith in the show’s ability to bring all those listed things together for a thoughtful conclusion will be richly rewarded. 

#3. Succession (Season 4) - HBO

The popular drama effortlessly rose through the ranks of the Aarons following a full series binge-watch this past year. Considering the nature of the premise, the final season, in which each character suddenly scrambles to enact their ultimate bid for power, was primed from the start to take over as its best. Unlike previous HBO hit Game of Thrones, it succeeded. As always, this was in no small part due to the sharp-tongued transactions between its talented ensemble. The richness of the writing lays bear the tragedy of its characters as they negotiate large acquisitions and influence Presidential elections without ever seeing the strings that are pulling on them. Luckily it’s all overseen with acerbic wit by creator Jesse Armstrong; a show with people this pathetic had no business also being this funny.

#2. The Great (Season 3) - Hulu 

Although it’s not his Favourite, The Great is the crowning achievement of writer Tony McNamara’s career. The third season of the risqué royal dramedy was as inaccurate as ever with the history of Catherine II & Peter III of Russia and no less on point with its scintillating dialogue. Some peculiar highs and precipitate lows in the duo’s tumultuous relationship gave stars Elle Fanning and Nicholas Holt equal opportunities to command viewers’ attention with their disarming performances. The progression of their marriage gave rise to some oddly emotional moments for the largely irreverent series. Those events are yet another example of the series playing fast and loose with the actual facts, but what is irrefutable is that The Great absolutely ruled.

AND THE BEST TV SHOW OF 2023 IS....

#1. Poker Face (Season 1) - Peacock

No lie: Poker Face was the best television of last year. One should have suspected as much from the start given the involvement of Rian Johnson; the mysteries here are every bit as sharp as Knives Out. Face has unique features for both a streaming series and detective show: its case-of-the-week episodes follow a howcatchem format instead of the more common whodunit. This formula folds each installment into an outstanding showcase for first-class actors, writers, and directors, including Russian Doll’s Natasha Lyonne fulfilling all three roles. Her charismatic character Charlie Cale anchors each story in perceptive humanity; that more than enough motive to be all-in on Poker.

NEXT UP: THE 2023 AARONS FOR BEST TV EPISODE!

[citynewsglobe]

[ad_1] Understanding and successfully using tax deductions can considerably affect your backside line within the ever-evolving contracting panorama. Contractors usually take care of substantial bills essential to handle each day operations and ship high quality work. Luckily, the tax code gives a number of deductions to ease the monetary burden on self-employed professionals on this area, finally permitting them to retain a bigger share of their earnings. Whether or not you might be simply embarking on a profession in contracting or have been within the area for years, a elementary grasp of relevant tax deductions is crucial for optimized monetary outcomes. For an in-depth understanding of tax methods tailor-made for contractors, click on right here. Tax deductions function highly effective monetary instruments by decreasing revenue topic to tax, immediately influencing the full tax obligation. This text explores numerous widespread tax deductions obtainable to contractors and presents insights into how these deductions will be strategically leveraged to maximise financial savings and promote enterprise progress. Automobile and Journey Bills Journey is a central element of a contractor’s enterprise, usually requiring them to go to a number of job websites, supply supplies from totally different areas, or meet with shoppers for consultations and updates. The Inner Income Service (IRS) acknowledges that many journey bills incurred for enterprise functions will be deductible, thus decreasing the contractor’s taxable revenue. The deductions can cowl the usual mileage fee for business-related automobile use, which incorporates gasoline, put on and tear, and upkeep bills. Further travel-related prices resembling toll charges, parking fees, and public transportation fares are additionally deductible. To make sure these deductions are upheld, contractors should keep an in depth enterprise journey log that notes every journey’s dates, areas, and particular functions. For contractors whose work entails in a single day stays, the related bills for lodging and meals are eligible for deductions if the journey is solely for enterprise functions. Compiling and retaining complete information and receipts is important to help deduction claims and to plan and funds transportation prices successfully all year long. By diligently documenting these bills, contractors can confidently reclaim these prices, enhancing their general monetary effectivity. Dwelling Workplace Deduction Many contractors select to function from a house workplace, a choice that may present substantial tax deduction advantages. The house workplace deduction permits contractors to deduct sure family bills related to the area used solely for enterprise functions, resembling mortgage curiosity or rental funds, insurance coverage, utilities, and upkeep. The IRS presents two strategies for calculating these deductions: a simplified choice that applies an ordinary fee per sq. foot of the workplace area and a extra complicated precise expense technique involving detailed allocation and monitoring. Eligible dwelling places of work should function the principal office, be used recurrently, and solely for enterprise actions. Adopting an organized strategy to monitoring dwelling workplace use and associated bills is crucial for making correct and justifiable claims. Instruments and Gear The acquisition of instruments and gear is a major funding for contractors, usually representing a considerable portion of operational bills. Fortunately, the IRS permits deductions for these important enterprise instruments. These deductions apply to each the complete price of smaller instruments and gear, which will be expensed instantly, and bigger objects that have to be depreciated over time based on industry-accepted norms and IRS requirements. For contractors, sustaining meticulous information of all instrument and gear buy receipts and documentation of their enterprise use is crucial for justifying these deductions.

Such thorough bookkeeping not solely helps compliance throughout tax audits but in addition aids in budgeting and assessing the long run want for gear upgrades or replacements. Strategic planning round instrument acquisition and capital expenditure can optimize deductions and enhance profitability. Provides and Supplies Contracting initiatives inherently contain the acquisition of assorted provides and uncooked supplies. These mandatory expenditures are usually deductible, decreasing taxable revenue linked to challenge execution. From minor consumables resembling nails and adhesives to bigger development supplies, systematically monitoring these bills comprehensively can be sure that deductions precisely replicate the contractor’s monetary outlay. A proactive strategy to managing provide prices entails organizing invoices and receipts aligned with challenge timelines, making certain challenge prices are precisely matched to revenue in accounting statements. This strategic strategy maximizes deductible bills and enhances monetary insights into challenge costing, main to raised profitability and monetary planning. Insurance coverage Premiums Insurance coverage performs a vital function in safeguarding in opposition to legal responsibility and unexpected occasions in a area fraught with unpredictability. Contractors are sometimes required to take care of numerous insurance coverage insurance policies, together with normal legal responsibility, skilled legal responsibility, and staff’ compensation. Luckily, the premiums paid on these insurances will be deducted as enterprise bills, offering contractors with a path to alleviate a few of the monetary pressures of sustaining sufficient protection. Understanding the scope of deductible insurance coverage premiums is important. It’s advisable to remain knowledgeable in regards to the particular deduction pointers supplied by the IRS or assets, which supply thorough explanations about optimizing insurance coverage deductions. Such data permits contractors to successfully handle their danger publicity whereas allocating monetary assets in direction of different vital enterprise wants. Persevering with Schooling and Coaching Within the aggressive contracting industry, ongoing schooling is efficacious for talent enhancement and repair growth. Tax legal guidelines enable for deductions on bills associated to skilled growth actions that keep or enhance abilities mandatory within the contractor’s present enterprise, resembling certification programs, seminars, and coaching classes immediately linked to the enterprise. Recording all associated instructional bills, together with tuition, materials prices, and any related journey, permits contractors to justify these deductions confidently. Profiting from persevering with schooling not solely strengthens enterprise credentials and capabilities but in addition presents a strategic technique of enhancing tax effectivity by decreasing taxable revenue. Conclusion The panorama of potential tax deductions obtainable to contractors is huge, providing ample alternatives to considerably reduce tax liabilities. Contractors can optimize their monetary methods and improve long-term enterprise viability by gaining a deep understanding of those deductions, conserving up-to-date information, and making certain adherence to all pertinent IRS rules. Partaking with tax professionals acquainted with the contracting industry can additional refine deduction methods, making certain they're tailor-made to particular person enterprise situations. By leveraging these deductions successfully, contractors can liberate assets for reinvestment, fostering progress and sustaining fiscal well being in an usually demanding and aggressive industry. [ad_2] Supply hyperlink

[mariaawilliams]

Concrete Grinding Sydney: Smooth, Safe, and Cost-Effective Solution

Concrete grinding Sydney offers an array of benefits for homeowners and businesses looking to improve their concrete surfaces. Whether you need to remove old paint, improve safety, or save on renovation costs, concrete grinding is a versatile solution. 

In this blog post, we’ll explore three key advantages of concrete grinding:

•    Removing paint, epoxies, and dirt.

•    Improving safety.

•    Providing a cost-effective option for your flooring needs.

Remove Paint, Epoxies, and Dirt

Over time, concrete surfaces can accumulate layers of paint, epoxies, dirt, and other remnants. These layers can make your floors look unsightly and worn out. Concrete grinding effectively removes these unwanted substances, leaving your floors looking fresh and clean.

The grinding process involves using a high-powered grinder that rubs against the top layer of the floor. This action removes the old paint, epoxies, and dirt, revealing a smooth and even surface beneath. This is especially beneficial for homeowners or businesses that want to restore the original look of their concrete floors or prepare the surface for new finishes. By removing these remnants, concrete grinding ensures that any new coating or flooring you apply adheres appropriately and lasts longer.

Improves Safety

Safety is a paramount concern for any property owner. Uneven, rough, or damaged concrete floors can pose significant risks, including tripping hazards and slips. Concrete grinding can transform these hazardous surfaces into smooth, hard surfaces that are safer for everyone.

For homes, smooth concrete floors reduce the risk of injury for family members and visitors. In commercial settings, where high foot traffic is common, ensuring a safe walking surface is crucial to prevent accidents and potential liability issues. Additionally, when applied to driveways, concrete grinding can create a quieter and more slip-resistant surface for vehicles, enhancing both safety and driving comfort.

By addressing these safety concerns through concrete grinding, you create a safer environment that protects both people and property. This proactive approach can help you avoid costly medical bills and legal issues associated with accidents on your property.

Cost-Effective Option

Concrete grinding is a cost-effective alternative to removing and replacing existing concrete slabs. The process of grinding down the concrete to achieve a smooth surface is significantly less expensive than demolishing and pouring new concrete. This cost efficiency extends to various aspects of property renovation and maintenance.

Firstly, grinding existing concrete saves money by avoiding the high costs associated with concrete removal and replacement. This is particularly advantageous for large areas, such as driveways or commercial floors. Secondly, a smooth and even surface is essential for the installation of other flooring systems, such as tiles or timber. Uneven concrete can make these installations difficult and costly, as installers must take extra measures to level the surface. By investing in concrete grinding, you ensure a level foundation, making subsequent flooring installations easier and more cost-effective.

Moreover, maintaining your concrete through grinding can extend its lifespan, reducing the need for frequent repairs or replacements. This long-term saving is beneficial for both residential and commercial properties, providing a durable and reliable flooring solution.

Conclusion

Concrete grinding services offer a multitude of benefits that can enhance the appearance, safety, and cost-effectiveness of your property’s flooring. By removing paint, epoxies, dirt, and other remnants, concrete grinding restores the smoothness and cleanliness of your concrete surfaces. This process also significantly improves safety by eliminating tripping hazards and creating slip-resistant surfaces. Further, concrete grinding is a budget-friendly option that can save you money on extensive renovations and flooring installations.

Investing in concrete grinding Sydney is a smart choice for property owners looking to maintain and improve their concrete floors. With its numerous advantages, concrete grinding ensures that your surfaces remain functional, safe, and aesthetically pleasing for years to come.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"REFEREE WILL BE CALLED IN," Kingston Daily Standard. December 20, 1913. Page 6. --- Paving Dispute Goes to Montreal Expert. ---- Board of Works so Recommends - Repair of Breakwater - A. Pettigrew is New Clerk. ---- The much mooted question of suitable paving material for Princess and King streets was discussed again last evening at the final meeting for the year of the Board of Works. The reports of Mr. T. M. Mather, Syracuse, the city's consulting engineer in the matter of pavements and of Prof. Kirkpatrick, the Street Railway Co.'s adviser, who were in conference here recently, were read to the meeting by the City Clerk.

Mr. Mather strongly recommended the vitrified brick pavement which he pointed out was more serviceable in connection with the car tracks than was the wood block pavement.

Prof. Kirkpatrick took the opposite stand, in advocating the wood block, and cited numerous instances where this material had been successfully used.

After a brief discussion of the reports it was pointed out that the Board could take no action in the case as an agreement existing between the city and the Street Railway Co. stated that in case of a dispute arising between the city and the company the matter must be referred to the superintendent of the Montreal Tramway Co. for settlement. A motion was passed, recommending to the City Council that this matter he settled according to agreement. This will mean that the question of the more suitable pavement will be decided definitely by the Superintendent of the Montreal Tramways.

REPAIR OF BREAKWATER. The attention of the Board was called by the City Engineer to the damage caused by the severe storm of last month to the breakwater on King street, and the suggestion made that a beach be formed by dumping stone along the shore to protect the bank from further injury, unless it was deemed advisable to construct a concrete pier instead of the present wooden one.

Ald. White was of the opinion that the help of the government might be enlisted to erect such a pier.

The motion of Ald. Couper to have the Mayor and the City Engineer consult with Mr. W. F. Nickle, M.P.. in the matter, was carried. As the buildings which Major Leonard will donate to Queen's University will face this breakwater it was thought that the city should help to make this vicinity as attractive as possible.

ACCOUNT HELD UP. The various accounts were passed with the exception of that of Mr. Mather whose bill for $121, the balance due him for services in connection with the street paving question, was held up by the auditor, Mr. Muir, on the ground that Mr. Mather's work was not completed. The matter was referred to the City Solicitor.

A communication from the City Solicitor advising the obtaining of a bond from the Dietrich Co., which at the present has charge of laying the conduits, guaranteeing the paying for any damages caused to the pavements while conducting this work was read. A motion to have such a bond obtained by the City Engineer under manager of the Utilities was carried by the meeting.

CLERK APPOINTED. A number of applications for the position of clerk in the City Engineer's office were considered and Mr. A. Pettigrew of the Treasurer's Department was appointed to the position at a salary of $800. The question of the erection of a dock at the foot of Clarence street was discussed and a letter from the City Solicitor was read in which he recommended the construction of the dock north of Clarence street. The City Engineer was requested to furnish estimates of this work for future meeting.

REQUESTS MADE. A petition from the Canadian Locomotive Works for a sewer on Ontario street, between Earl and Gore streets was granted.

A request from G. Ledford for a sower on Rideau street was referred to the Board of Health.

A letter from H. F. Norman, asking for a sewer and gas main on Paglan Road, from Patrick to Sydenham streets, was referred to the Engineer.

A communication was read from a man named Bird asking remuneration for the saving of timbers torn lose from the breakwater during the storm last month. The Engineer was requested to report on the value of the timbers salvaged.

[ailtrahq]

Lane Kasselman Contributor From the headlines, you would think that the end of the crypto industry is here. It isn’t. While it’s true that the last year in crypto has seen fraud, meltdowns, and layoffs that triggered sequential failures of crypto companies, that’s largely of those failed companies’ own making. The biggest players in the industry promised self-regulation, but the actions of numerous bad actors of the past year — the ones who failed — extinguished any chance of that happening. However, the crypto survivors — those with legitimate businesses — are still looked at like zombies, able to move forward but with little hope of life. But the phenomenon of narrative gravity, when the media, public, and influencers agree that a narrative is correct without question or examination, is happening throughout the digital asset sector. As it stands, the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), influenced by narrative gravity instead of the 30,000-foot view of the promise of blockchain technology, is regulating crypto aggressively through overreach and enforcement actions rather than contributing to thoughtful policymaking. This is the wrong approach, full stop. The stakes are too high, as crypto has become woven into too many parts of the global financial system. The stakes are too high, as crypto has become woven into too many parts of the global financial system. Blockchains have created a new internet and crypto is a foundational layer to the future of global commerce and banking, communication, and individual ownership. Hundreds of millions of people worldwide use crypto for various purposes and believe in its potential. The SEC’s inability to both use the past as a prologue and see how crypto is inevitably part of our future means that the U.S. is lagging behind the rest of the world when it comes to this frontier technology. The EU, U.K., Japan, Singapore, UAE, and even China have introduced or are introducing permanent regulatory frameworks for crypto. Notably absent from this list is the U.S., which is arguably the world economic power that is farthest from a cogent regulatory framework — at least at the federal level. The outcome? The industry is moving offshore, rapidly. According to a recent Electric Capital report, the United States was home to 42% of the world’s open source blockchain developers in 2018. By 2022, that dropped to 29%. As the engine of the global economy, it is unlikely the U.S. will go against the global trend of crypto regulation. It would be unprecedented for the EU and U.K. to have a fully regulated financial market that is relatively illegal in the U.S. It’s not how the global economy functions. Plus, the risk of losing crypto to other world powers is too dire. What if Google or Twitter had been founded in China? What would the internet look like today? Simply put, the lack of a fully regulated financial market in the U.S. contradicts the global economic interdependence seen in other major economies. The U.S. has historically met the moment when it comes to thoughtful regulation of frontier technologies. That’s why it’ll happen again now. Most states in the U.S. have created permanent regulatory frameworks for digital assets, and it is completely within their mandate to do so. California and New York even issue BitLicenses, which further codifies web3 activity in the two largest state economies in the United States. The U.S. federal government might be moving slower than ever, but we’re starting to see signs that a clear regulatory framework is coming. A recent draft bill offers a pathway for digital assets that begin as securities to eventually be regulated as commodities. Tokens offered as part of an investment contract would remain in the SEC’s remit, while those that qualify as commodities would be overseen by the Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC). And there are important conversations happening about whether an asset is considered a commodity if a blockchain network is decentralized.

Knowing that there will eventually be a path forward at the federal level, let’s talk about what that looks like. The U.S. government should be at the forefront of investing in blockchain R&D. There are countless examples of the U.S. incubating world-changing technology. Why stop now? Policymakers should be using the technology. How can anyone regulate what they fundamentally don’t understand? Other governments around the world, including the European Commission, are doing this. The U.S. government should run a sandbox and come up with compliant — even mutually beneficial — ways to engage with the private sector and the technology itself. Predicting the death of crypto is a convenient but inaccurate narrative. The U.S. will get there. It always does. The industry will get stronger as meaningful regulations — not strong-arm enforcements — are put into place. Source

[atlanticcanada]

‘This work needs to be done:’ Isthmus funding delays cause frustration in N.S. and N.B. border communities

An 11 hour application for federal funding to address climate change threats against the Chignecto Isthmus has been greeted as a positive development along the New Brunswick/Nova Scotia border, but not much more.

“I guess it’s good because we have taken a step forward, but it’s still that unknown,” says Andrew Black, mayor of Sackville N.B.

Nova Scotia Premier Tim Houston and New Brunswick Premier Blaine Higgs say the application for federal funding does not rule out potential legal action in the future.

Houston and Higgs want the federal government to pay for the entire project. The federal government says it will pay for half of the project’s costs through its Disaster Mitigation and Adaptation Fund program.

Megan Mitton, the New Brunswick Green Party MLA for Memramcook-Tantramar, says time has run out for any further mitigation delays due to funding disagreements or legal threats.

“This work needs to be done, no matter what,” says Mitton. “In terms of what percentage should be paid by which government, I think the people of my area feel that it’s going to be our taxpayer dollars no matter what. We just need to figure out how to protect our communities and make sure we don’t end up underwater, in any given year.”

Mayor Black says limited signs of progress and a lack of communication has been frustrating for residents in the border towns of Sackville, N.B., and Amherst, N.S.

“Our two communities specifically have more skin in the game in terms of the Chignecto Isthmus flooding,” says Black. “For our municipalities, it is an absolute game changer.”

Portions of Sackville face a significant flood risk from severe storm surges.

“We just want to see the project get done.”

Reporters asked Premier Higgs at the Atlantic Growth Strategy Meeting in Moncton this week if suing the federal government while applying for funding would be detrimental to the project.

“No, I think the discussions we've had to date are both an interpretation of what we believe in one sense of the Constitution and what my federal counterpart believes [Intergovernmental Affairs Minister Dominic LeBlanc] is what the Constitution says. So getting a legal interpretation and applying for that directly is a prudent thing to do,” said Higgs on Tuesday.

Dominic LeBlanc told reporters this week a lawsuit against the federal government over mitigation funding would be “frivolous” and a waste of taxpayers’ dollars.

During a stop in Halifax in late June, federal Opposition Leader Pierre Poilievre said he needed to study the issue before commenting, stopping short of saying the federal government should foot the entire bill.

The Trans-Canada Highway, a CN Rail line, and a system of dikes built in the 1600’s are all located in the area, with an estimated $35 billion per year in goods and services passing through.

Project funding would go toward improvements to the dike system. Once believed to be between $300 and $400 million, mitigation work is now estimated to be as high as $700 million and would provide protection from major storms until 2100.

It could take a decade or longer to complete necessary work, considering three options: raising the height of 35 kilometres of dikes, building new dikes, or raising the existing dikes and installing steel sheet pile walls in select locations.

Roberta Clowater, executive director of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society in New Brunswick, says experts across multiple fields should be part of the decision of which option is used.

“It’s important for ecological reasons,” says Clowater. “It’s important for cultural and human reasons.”

“It will help us figure out how to deal with threats in other places, where it will also come up,” says Clowater. “How can we make sure that we are able to work best with nature, and put that into any of our solutions?”

Clowater says mitigation efforts at the Chignecto Isthmus must include consideration for the natural movement of wildlife, as well as consultations with First Nation communities.

With files from Derek Haggett of CTV Atlantic, and Keith Doucette of the Canadian Press 

For the latest New Brunswick news, visit our dedicated provincial page.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/5csYrWA

[bestelectricianuk]

Taking Action To Combat Climate Change Can Be Achieved With The Help Of Electricians

In today's world, climate change is one of the biggest issues that has to be dealt with. Despite the fact that it affects all of us, it is going to take many different strategies in order to solve the problem. We can reduce our carbon footprint by using a strategy such as using electricians to reduce the amount of energy consumed. Learn more about how new build electrician can help us cope with the effects of climate change in this article.

Efficient energy use

We can contribute to climate change in a number of ways by installing energy-efficient systems and appliances in our homes and businesses and electricians can play an important role here as well. These systems include things like LED lighting, energy-efficient appliances, efficient heating and cooling systems, and energy-saving features like timers and sensors. The installation of these types of energy-saving systems by electricians will help us reduce the amount of energy we consume and our carbon dioxide emissions, thus reducing our contribution to climate change.

Using solar energy as a source of energy

In addition to solar power systems, another way for construction electrician to contribute to climate change awareness is by installing solar power systems in homes and businesses. In addition to freeing the atmosphere of greenhouse gases, solar power is a renewable source of energy that emits no greenhouse gases. There are a number of factors that make solar panels an attractive option for homeowners and businesses looking to reduce their carbon footprint, including their increased affordability. A licensed electrician has the experience necessary to install a solar panel safely and effectively so that they will be able to produce clean electricity for an entire home or business as a result.

The future of smart homes

Electricians also play a role in helping us cope with climate change by installing smart home technology in our homes or businesses. The invention of smart home technology has given us the ability to control various aspects of our homes and businesses from anywhere, using voice commands or via a mobile app to be downloaded to our smartphone or tablet. In addition to automating tasks like turning off the lights when we leave the room or setting up the temperature on appliances at certain times during the day so that they are not running unnecessarily when no one is using them, this type of technology allows us to schedule appointments. Whenever we automate tasks like this, it is possible to save energy, reduce our carbon footprint, and reduce our utility bills by saving money as well as saving the environment.

As electricians, we play an important part in helping ourselves deal with climate change as we install power systems that are energy-efficient, solar power systems, and smart home technology in our homes and businesses to help combat global warming. With their expertise and knowledge, electricians can assist us in reducing our carbon footprints while still being able to enjoy all the modern comforts of life without having a negative impact on the environment around us! Investing in energy-efficient technologies now could mean a cleaner future for generations to come! So don't wait - contact your local electrician today.

In response to climate change, electricians play an important role every day.

There is no doubt that electricians are playing a vital role in preserving the planet one home at a time.

We rely on electricians every day to cope with the effects of climate change. If you contact them, they can help you make your home more energy efficient and therefore reduce your carbon footprint and your utility bills at the same time. There is no need to look further than electrician Bristol if you are searching for an electrician near me. Their highly trained electricians will be able to install solar panels or recommend other ways for you to reduce your carbon footprint.

Throughout the day, electricians help us in dealing with the effects of climate change in our effort to adapt to the changing climate?

It's important to understand that electricians are in a unique position to help us cope with climate change since they are so closely connected to the lives we live every day. A wiring contractor is someone who wires homes and offices, installs lighting and power outlets, and ensures that everything works as it should. In other words: they're helping us live our lives--and without them, we wouldn't be able to do much at all.

In addition to working hard, electricians also put in long hours during peak times of the year (like summer), when there may be more electrical problems than usual as a result of the higher temperatures outside or even just because people tend to not turn off their lights at night when the temperature outside is high, so that their homes do not become too hot inside at night!

Whenever you turn on a light, you're thanking an electrician for the work he's done.

A professional electrician is dedicated to ensuring that your electricity is flowing as smoothly as possible. They are in charge of ensuring that your lights and other electrical equipment operate as they should so that you can continue with your daily activities. They also ensure that your home's wiring is safe and in good condition.

A certified electrician can assist you with any type of electrical problem you might have in your house or business, be it installing new outlets or switches, repairing circuit breakers, or repairing damaged wiring due to fire damage (such as damage that results from a lightning strike).

It is also important for the electrical systems we use in our daily lives to be in harmony with the weather conditions of that specific area, which are often different from what we are used to.

It is also important for the electrical systems we use in our daily lives to be in harmony with the weather conditions of that specific area, which are often different from what we are used to.

As a result of climate change in many places around the world, temperatures have been rising and there have been more extreme weather events more so than ever before. There is no doubt that this can have a huge impact on the reliability of the electrical equipment that we use.

The changes in temperature and humidity can have a significant impact on the reliability of electrical equipment as a result.

In order to cope with climate change, electricians are playing a very important role. In our increasingly arid and humid world, our electrical equipment is always at risk of being affected by the heat and moisture that are occurring.

Electricians understand how these changing weather conditions affect their work. Moreover, their experience has also taught them how to minimize the risks of damages caused by external factors such as voltage fluctuations caused by fluctuations in load and generation, or moisture ingress into building structures because they have poor insulation or poorly sealed joints between wall cavities and roofs.

The electrical installation can also be adversely affected by changes in weather conditions, fluctuations in voltage levels caused by changes in load levels, and changes in generation levels as well.

Electricians are often called upon to do work in extreme weather conditions, such as high winds and rainstorms. It is extremely important that they are aware of the impacts of climate change on their work and how they can help mitigate some of the risks of damage that may occur as a result of environmental issues.

It is the electrician's responsibility to understand how the changing climate affects the work they do and how they can help manage the risk of a damage as a result of environmental factors as they affect the work they do.

The process of adjusting to a changing climate affects the way electricians conduct their work, and how they can reduce the risk of damage caused by the factors that affect the environment.

In today's society, electricians are the backbone of our economy. As a result of their work, we are able to safely power our homes and businesses, ensure that our lights turn on when we flick the switch, and much more. We are relying on electricians to be part of our response to climate change as well, but how exactly do they help us with it.

An electrician understands how the changing climate affects the work they do, and how to help mitigate the risks for damage caused by these environmental factors in order to make sure that their work is as safe as possible. A professional electrician who works outdoors, for example, will need to have a good understanding of how heat stress or cold weather may affect their health and safety, as well as what precautions they should take to protect themselves from UV radiation caused by exposure to the sun (e.g. putting on protective clothing).

Providing top-quality electrical services to the residents of Bristol

It is important that you are able to get the best quality of service when hiring an electrician when you need them. If you are in the market for a company that provides quality electrical services, it is important to be sure that the company is qualified as well as insured before you hire them. As a result, Electrician Bristol is the first choice for businesses and homes in the UK, such as.

As a team of professional electricians with years of electrical experience, the company has a dedicated team of technicians who can provide everything from small repairs to large-scale projects, including new electrical installations and new wirings for your home or business. We also offer immediate, 24/7 emergency support, so you can rest assured that if you have any problems, we will be able to resolve them as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Our services are provided as needed, whether it's for routine maintenance or an urgent issue. All our work is guaranteed to be done to your satisfaction, as well as having fair quotes and no hidden fees. It is important to know that Electricians Bristol ensures that your electrical problems are dealt with properly; it prevents future electrical problems; it ensures that all electrical equipment and circuitry are fully up to date and comply with all relevant legislation and best practices; and it ensures that your electrical equipment and circuitry are fully up to date. Send them an email at hello@electricianbristol.co today to find out more.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "The genetics of Oleg Zhokh. 💪🔥 #armwrestling #devonlarratt #olegzhokh" on YouTube

Her son's body does not look like oleg's opponent and that is Billy z he is mostly linked the last one and his body is different but it's made for power in action and his can haul stuff longer and go further and they're dangerous and you can see that his arm is forearm is extraordinarily wide it's about 6 in across but the diameter is gigantic anything he thought he couldn't lose because he pumped it up but her son says it's only part of the muscle group and he was low on the bicep and it was true and but still you should be able to win with that and he couldn't and only beat him and he is a Mac he is not Mac proper but he is a Mac it's very young. And it proves something that Max is strong people and the race is not weak they're probably as strong as Russians who are fairly strong but not a larger black people a lot of black people are very strong. And her son is extremely strong when he's in shape or allowed to be he's oppressed by so many of you what you say is ridiculous we hear it too and your chicken s*** and you have champions for willing to wrestle him like his grandpa and grandpa-in-law and he was sitting there taunting them for a year or two years. And there are other people too like Bob birdies and he says to Bob I just push you over and tell you to stay down and hold you down with my toe and if you don't like it I'm going to lift you up with my left foot so he says laughing and says okay it's just a joke but it's bains style and it means stuff and it's cold and he is really pretty good at it I was surprised. Says it's making fun of hulk Hogan for him having to get people support to beat him in the ring and then he said he'd have the Giants to it and he understands he doesn't want to get beat up our son is not really into beating people up and he has skill and her son has not been a professionally wrestling so it's kind of odd that didn't beat up by people who are unskilled and they think it's us doing it but we're professionals and he sees it too it's not even can do that stuff but then he'd be facing us sort of he thinks it's not true either my son wants to go in and try and be people it's not going to be able to see he's going to have to wear a basketball players glasses and they said no your eyes will heal if you look really funky like Dave with basketball player glasses. So I'm looking forward to wrestling and it's really sending a tickler through our whole group and I mean all of us who are our race and it is intense all of us want to see him do it and they want to see him beat thrym and want to see him beat Loki. And if he beats them it'll keep them around and people know it too and I'll get them bigger and healthier and suddenly see the idea and they're going to try and get a little shape and it might push our son to get in better shape so it's going to start working and it's pretty intense. And here comes this Scottish guy who doesn't look like anything and he's got skill though studio saying to hulk Hogan. But really he was kind of backing off the whole time but it might be out of Mercy he says no he's big enough it's not going to be good but I really can't walk around as a 15 ft guy so he says maybe a little Mercy probably let go of my finger ouch. But really we will be looking forward to that that would be interesting and he'd have to wear a cup he'll be healed but you wear a cup because it's horrible and probably different pants and just stretches. Willie Bill say they can help him with the gear and it have to choreography it and all sorts of stuff and her son can do it sometimes you need a little help remembering it and they say it and then they might get into it cuz if he gets ready gets mad tries to defend himself and they'll get mad and say you're not doing it and he says so this will be fun cuz that's how it goes

Thor Freya

[opiatemasses]

It's just banter? Female runners dealing with harassment

Being a female recreational runner is tough. Running is meant to be fun, no hassle. So why for females has it become the opposite? 

For females going for a run isn’t just stepping outside and putting one foot in front of the other. It involves planning whether to run in the light or dark, whether to put on baggy or non-baggy clothes, whether to wear headphones or not and even just the simple question of where to run. 

This is a topic that has constantly been downplayed or overlooked as being ‘banter’ and/or assumed to be acceptable behaviour. It begs the question why?

Something needs to be done.  Going for a run should be fun, not full of dread.

When reading that did you feel angry? Yes me too. This should not be considered normal behaviour. Why should 60% of women be harassed while going for a run. And why is nothing being done about it? ‘Why’ is a reoccurring word I'm using here and that's because these why’s are all still unanswered after so many years of women talking about this and still nothing has been done. 

I don’t know about you. But my feelings towards this is that it needs to be brought to people's attention and people should be educated in this area as it's inherently unfair. This topic should be raised in education, work places and in the streets. Don’t you agree? From my perspective it is simple - just don’t do it. But it is very obvious from the regular occurrence of this that for some people it's not obvious so they need to be taught how to act appropriately.   

Many of you reading this may think this is an over exaggeration but this is where it needs to be educated to how often it occurs. Males may think it's only one girl but how many people are only doing it to one girl. One girl too many.   

On the 22nd December 2022 the UK government backed a bill that made street harassment illegal and you can now be imprisoned for up to two years for this instead of the old bill being six months.

So I guess what I'm trying to put across here is this ongoing issue of ‘banter’ towards female runners actually has an deeper meaning. In other words it's harassment and it happens far too often. 

So to conclude, what some people may call a rant others may say teaching people how to act appropriately. Something needs to be done about these actions, and something needs to be done sooner rather than later.

So now we have discussed the situation and discussed about what needs to be done, now I'm going to provide some specific actions that are currently in place but not used or advertised sufficiently for people to know about them. 

Number one: A text service should be available to report harassment. This could be a number you can easily text or call when out for your run.

Number two: Social media to raise awareness. Although there are already apps and websites that record harassment I think there needs to be greater promotion on these platforms on this topic to raise awareness.

Number three: Education in schools and colleges about the issue. This would help to put this message across to young people from an early age.

Number four: Posters to raise awareness. Where else better to raise awareness for this topic than in the streets - putting posters up to catch people's attention and maybe make them think twice about their actions.

Finally, number 5: Technology is in place that people can track their movements. This can improve a sense of safety when running alone.

Found in the link below is a website that allows people to tell their stories on being harassed while out for a jog. To access this website, please click the link provided below for further details. 

https://www.ourstreetsnow.org/our-streets

N0845231

References

Brockschmidt, E., & Wadey, R. (2021). Runners’ experiences of street harassment in London. Qualitative Research in Sport, Exercise and Health, 1-18.

Gimlin, D. (2010). Uncivil Attention and the Public Runner. Sociology of Sport Journal, 27(3).

Roper, E. A. (2016). Concerns for personal safety among female recreational runners. Women in Sport and Physical Activity Journal, 24(2), 91-98.

Website to look at:  

https://www.runnersworld.com/uk/training/a36278390/reclaim-the-run/

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Not About Deserve

Repost from my old blog: sohoneyspreadyourwings

Word count: 1.2k

You could feel the water begin to soak through your shoes, your toes scrunching up in discomfort at the squishy feeling. The weight of what you were carrying was beginning to make your arms quiver as you knocked on the door with further agitation.

You’d been trying to get Bill to open the door for you for the last five minutes, but you’d yet to get him to budge.

Grumbling under your breath, you shifted the weight of the pizza box and beer in your hands, using your foot to knock on the door.

“Damn it, Bill!” You cried out, “I know you’re in there just open the door would you?”

Blinking away the stray raindrops, you could faintly hear a thump in the background followed by a loud curse.

“Bill!” You yelled.

“Ain’t nobody home!”

You rolled your eyes in frustration, sighing at his antics.

“I have pizza! Your favorite!” You shouted, hoping that the prospect of his favorite food would be enough to open the door.

There was a slight pause before you heard another thump.

“Not hungry!” He shouted back at you.

You swallowed down your anger, reasoning with yourself that he wasn’t himself, he didn’t actually mean any of it. He was just angry, he had every right to be, after going through the war like he did. You just wanted to help him the only way you knew how. If only he’d just let you.

“I have beer too, William!” you tried, shivering as your damp clothes began to cling to your body.

The door opened quickly, Bill already grumbling at you, “Why didn’t you start with that?”

Once the door was open a disheveled Bill met your gaze. He shifted awkwardly on his crutches, his eyes slowly taking in your appearance.

“You’re soaked,” he said bluntly. Bill’s eyes finally met yours, his expression unreadable.

You wanted to mutter a “No, shit” back at him, maybe even throw a few curses his way for leaving you soaked outside, but no matter how much you wanted to, you’d never let those words leave your mouth.

Instead, your only reply was to give him a hard look, one that had him looking guilty for you leaving you out there so long.

Without another word, you walked past him into his house. Setting the pizza and beer on the counter, you began to rummage through his drawers to try and find a rag to dry off with.

“I don’t need you to keep doin’ this for me,” Bill said as he slowly made his way towards you. Sitting down in a nearby chair, Bill leaned his crutches against the table.

“I don’t need to, Bill, I want to,” You said simply, trying to wrestle down the wave of agitation that was rising within you.

“Well, I don’t wantcha to.”

Your hands froze as you wrung your hair out with a rag.

“Fine,” you said shortly. Tossing the rag to the side, a loud clap of thunder following your action.

“It’s pouring, you’re not going out there right now,” Bill said, trying to reason with you.

“I’m already soaked to the bone, I don’t care if I get more wet,” you shot back angrily.

You swallowed down your anger, your hurt, as you made your way quickly to the door. Every squish of your toes in your soaked shoes, and the feeling of Bill’s eyes on you, only fueled your desire to leave as quickly as possible.

“Wait a minute!” Bill cried out to you. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbled as he tried to follow after you.

With your hand on the doorknob, you were more than ready to leave until you heard Bill desperately scrambling in the background. The sound of his crutch’s clanging against the cold tile of his floor, and a string of curses leaving his mouth, caused you to pause.

You turned to see Bill, still sitting in the chair holding onto one crutch as he tried to reach for the other which had fallen to the floor.

Silently, you walked back over to him, picking up his crutch and handing it to him.

“This is the shit I’m talkin’ about,” Bill grumbled.

The mixture of hurt and confusion written across your face, caused him to let out a sigh.

“I should be the one helpin’ ya, not the other way around.”

“Bill-”

“No, I know I’m a fuckin’ idiot for thinkin’ that,” Bill paused, his gaze meeting yours. “You’re a goddamned angel, sweetheart, and I don’t deserve you. You deserve a whole lot better than me. Hell, I knew it before, but I know it for damn sure now.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Bill.” You said with nothing but mirth in your tone.

Bill gazed up at you with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl written clearly across his face.

“You are! And you can’t ever be bothered to put away a dish or hang up your towel after you take a shower. And God, sometimes you tell the shittest jokes.”

“For Christ sake’s I get it, I’m the fuckin’ worst human being alive! Why the hell are you still here anyways?” Bill tried to bat away your hand that had found its way to his cheek.

“Because I love you,” you said simply. Bill’s eyes met yours, his expression softening slightly. “Because it’s not about deserve, Bill. You might not do the dishes, but you do all the cooking. And even if you never hang up your towel, you’ll still hum a song under your breath as you fold laundry. And because your jokes are shitty, but I’ve still never laughed harder in my life. I love you Bill, every part of you, even the parts that can make you a pain in the ass.”

“You really are a goddamned angel,” Bill whispered softly.

Even soaked, you felt flush under the intensity of Bill’s gaze. His natural playful and teasing nature had returned as he leaned in to kiss you. Every time Bill kissed you it felt like you were drowning, being wrapped up in everything that was so inexplicably him, that if you were given the choice to spend every waking minute of your life like this, you wouldn’t hesitate.

Pulling away to catch your breath, you let out a soft laugh as Bill chased after your lips with his own.

“I gotta change, Bill. Can I borrow-”

“Take whatever you like, Angel,” he said breathlessly, “Take it all.” Your own breath grew ragged as Bill’s eyes locked on yours, his meaning wasn’t lost on you.

You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say, Bill looked so vulnerable under your gaze, you ached to reach out and touch him. A smile began to tug on your lips, Bill now visibly relaxing at the action.

“You’re not letting the angel thing go, are you?” You teased.

“Just callin’ it like I see it, Angel.” He grinned at you, his eyes shining in a way you had sorely missed.

“You’re hopeless,” you laughed, making your way down to his bedroom for a change of clothes.

“Hopelessly in love with you!” He shouted back at you.

Shaking your head as you tried to stifle a laugh, you began to rummage through his drawers. You both were hopeless you supposed, still, there was no one you would rather be hopelessly in love with than Bill.

[itsonlydana]

"together we can fly" ➷ Eret

or: a love ignored for far too long blossoms under the bright lights of a circus tent.

➛ pairing: c!Eret x gn!reader

➛ idea: An unhealed foot injury of your partner Foolish forces you to perform with Eret at short notice on the opening night of your circus. But when old feelings come up again during your first training session together in a year, you have to make a crucial decision.

Either you have to suffer the consequences of a broken heart, or the circus will.

➛ wordcount: 7,1k

➛ tags/warnings: circus au, friends to more to strangers to lovers, a bit of angst (maybe a bit more), fluff, swearing

➛ an: there are many ideas for fanfictions and stories wandering through my brain, getting scribbled down in my journal where they will stay, not growing further than a few sentences but this one wouldn´t leave me alone. It took me weeks to write this and in the end, it is so much more than what i had imagined. I hope you enjoy this thought that became a small universe <3

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

"I'm sorry, what?"

Stunned, you stared at Wilbur, waiting for your director's serious expression to contort into a laugh at falling for his joke, but the longer the brunette kept silently looking at you, the clearer the gravity of the situation became.

"According to Ponk, Foolish's foot injury hasn't fully healed yet, and if he were to perform, it could only make things worse, and he'd be out for this season," Wilbur repeated the doctor's instruction, and with each word the feeling of dread in your stomach increased.

"Eret will be filling in for Foolish".

No sooner had the name of the last person you wanted to work with right now been dropped than you slumped like a boneless sack in the creaky chair in front of Will's desk.

You felt the fear on the back of your neck, uncomfortably cold it traveled down your spine, and mentally you cursed your best friend for his reckless action of "Of course I can jump from this rope to that rope" that had ended in a week of bed rest and not the cocky shouted out "jump of the year."

Jump of the year, my ass. It was a jump right into the book for the dumbest ideas Foolish had ever had- and there were a lot of those. This one, however, deserved a special place right on the cover.

Of course, you were worried about him, dammit, you'd been by his side the whole time, someone had to keep telling him how much he should hurry up and get better.

But besides worrying about Foolish, there was another feeling that made your heart hammer heavily against your rib cage. In a last-ditch effort, you balled your hands into fists, pleading with Will across the desk filled with bills and flyers that would be handed out tonight for the next performances. "Can't someone else fill in? Last season, Techno and I worked well together, after all, he's been to so many training sessions that he must know the act," you suggested, leaning further forward in the chair that felt way too big.

The stress was written all over Will's face and you felt bad just burdening him further with your fears, but everything in you opposed the idea of performing with Eret, Eret of all people, the act you had now spent months training for with Foolish.

Will raised a hand to his face, rubbing his index finger and thumb over the bridge of his nose, and for a moment he seemed to actually consider your suggestion until he shook his head. "No, I can't.. I can't change Techno's act last minute, he's been training for his act too, it wouldn't be fair. I just don't understand what your problem is, (y/n). Last year you worked wonderfully with Eret, your number had become our notice board, a representation of us, so well did you two get on. People loved you guys, what changed?"

Memories of soft touches and blue eyes with a shared future shining like the golden stars of the tent pushed their way up from repression, the feeling of free-falling leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, which you pressed tightly shut.

"You can change your last number a little, add some of the newer moves, you both know best what you can create together," Will continued to speak without looking up from his flyers, for if he had but glanced at you, he would have seen the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes and how you strained not to disappear in front of your director into old memories that still had their grip tight around your heart.

"Will, please! There has to be some way-"

"I said no!", Will suddenly interrupted you, his previously calm voice thundering through the small car and the desk shaking as his flat hand hit the dark wood.

As much as you wanted to shrink under his gaze, a childish defiance to get your own way had spread through your thoughts and at the same time as Will you stood up from your chair, glaring angrily at him.

You realized that there was little to no point in arguing with Wilbur; after all, the brunette was at least as stubborn as you, but at the same time he was right. Eret, as one of the best artists, was the only logical replacement for Foolish-a fact that made the hair on your arms stand on end.

"You can't make me do this," you fired back at him, and the moment you uttered the words, you regretted them. Before you could apologize, however, Will had long since sunk back into his seat and turned his attention to the important documents in front of him. He didn't even look at you, didn't even seem interested in your presence, and your frustration grew even more at the disinterest he made you feel.

You clenched your teeth until your jaw ached.

Look at me again, Will, give me another chance, you thought to yourself, but continued to be ignored.

Frustrated, you turned away from him and had just opened the door of the trailer when you heard Will raise his voice again; and this time in a pitch that would brook no argument:

"You're going to perform tonight and the rest of the week with Eret, whether you like it or not, I don't care."

With a frustrated huff, you slammed the door behind you.

Your discussion must have been loud enough to lure the rest of your circus family to the director's trailer, because as you jumped down the steps, several different gazes were on you, some sympathetic, others visibly not understanding why it tormented you so much to have to perform with Eret.

In your rage, you fled across the meadow of the field where you had set up camp, past all the glances that were becoming too much for you, trying to push down the feeling of your heart breaking all over again.

If you had been just a little more attentive, you might have seen the brown curly head that had been leaning against the side of Will's trailer, hearing every word loud and clear, and now disappeared in the direction of the main tent as well.

With Will's cold words circling in your mind, you found yourself in the large circus tent, which, to your relief, welcomed you quietly. None of the others would show up now to interfere; according to the plan, now would be your and Foolish's last rehearsal, though this one had been thrown into the water now.

You let your hands glide over the raised edge of the ring, looking over the countless rows of empty wooden benches and platforms, which in a few hours would be filled once again with excited visitors, visitors who could hardly wait to be transported into another world for an evening free of their problems, and normally there was nothing more pleasing to you than to look into the laughing and amazed faces when your show began, but today something would be missing from it all.... Foolish would be missing.

You knew there was no way Will would change his mind, he had made that abundantly clear in his last words, and you knew it wouldn't be the end of the world without Foolish and performing with another of the talented artists instead.

If it weren't for Eret.

You took off the jacket you'd pulled over your workout clothes for the talk with Will and tossed it carelessly over the red edge of the ring. You didn't have to worry about warming up, you had finished your stretching before Will called you over and threw the rest of your day, as well as your emotions, into turmoil.

On bare feet you walked across the fine sand to the center of the large tent, where a lone, snow-white ring hovered in the darkness a good three feet above the ground, attached to it two silken ribbons as pure a white as the ring itself. As soon as you closed a hand around the cool ring, you felt the ghost of his hand around yours again, and as if you had burned yourself on the metal, you tore yourself away.

You had to bite your teeth hard to keep from immediately starting to cry again. No, you had left that behind, you were already over that... you couldn't allow yourself to fall into old patterns- not when you had to function properly tonight.

You reached for the bar in the top half of the ring again, this time ignoring any feelings that were spreading through you, and braced yourself high enough to sit sideways in the ring. Instantly, the ring began to spin around itself, around and around, slowly but steadily.

As the empty wooden rows of seats before your eyes blended with the white and red stripes of the tent canvas and became one blurry mass, your mind wandered back to a time not too long ago, and yet infinitely far away..

"Come on, trust me"

"Stop pushing me, I'll do it in a minute," you said the last part more to yourself as you stared from the edge of the tiny platform you were standing on, meters high, just below the circus ceiling. Every muscle in your body was tense, your hands gripping the single railing so tightly that your knuckles stood out white.

"Love, don't get lost in your thoughts," Eret called again, and you looked from the floor a dizzying distance away to the brunette sitting in the white ring a few feet from you, one hand around the ribbon-wrapped metal, the other extended invitingly toward you.

"You make it all look so easy," you sighed, taking a step back uncertainly. Eret actually made everything look easy, he had never had any problems learning any new stunt quickly and easily, while you often ended up facing one and the same problem:

Your fears of falling.

It was ridiculous, after all the years that you had been flying and jumping on the trapeze and in the air of the circus tent, to still be afraid of falling, especially when you were practicing and performing with Eret, who would never allow you to get hurt.

And yet your head built up a mental barrier every time.

"I believe in you" Eret said, looking at you with a smile "I know you can do this".

Your grip on the railing loosened and the tension in your shoulders fell away as well. Carefully you took another step back, this time not to escape but to press your toes against the ground below. Placing one leg in front of the other you focused on Eret's outstretched hand, which was now joined by his second.

"Jump, I promise I'll catch you".

And without thinking about it, you leapt forward and jumped.

For a moment there was nothing, only the fear of being forgotten by Eret and that he had broken his promise, only the sound of your falling body in the air. The moment was far too short to really think about what would happen if Eret didn't catch you in time, because before you could even form the next thought, there were two strong hands clasping yours.

You jerked your head up, your vision blurred from the quick movement, and the only thing you could see clearly was Eret's loving smile as he pulled you up to him, as promised, until you could sit on his lap. Pressed flat against his chest, his arms folded behind your back to keep you from falling, you could do nothing but stare into his eyes.

Stars danced in them, golden reflections of single points of light in a bright blue sea, and the longer you looked into Eret's eyes, the clearer something else became in his gaze, something that threatened to overwhelm you, so clear and so close it suddenly seemed.

Not much closer and you could give yourself to him, give yourself to the feelings that were so obvious between you-

"Oh, excuse me."

You almost didn't hear the words at all, lost in the deepest memories, and only the clang of one of the buckets filled with hand chalk as Eret tried to stumble back behind the curtain drew your weary gaze to him.

Instantly, your eyes widened.

He was wearing his workout clothes, tight black leggings that accentuated his long slender legs and one of his many gray shirts tucked neatly into the waistband of his pants. You didn't know how he had managed it, but his otherwise manageable curls were tied into a high braid, except for perhaps two or three recalcitrant strands that seemed to brazenly refuse to be held and hung down into his face.

You used to brush them away from him, or always carried two small hair clips with you, as he constantly forgot his.

At the very bottom of the closet next to your door they still lay, one white clip and one gold clip, probably covered in dust by now, just like the rest of the little mementos of Eret and your time together.

You arched your back and slid down from the ring, landing in the sand with a clearing of your throat, disguised to hide your suddenly raw throat. Without saying anything, you watched as Eret placed the bucket back with the others before the brunette climbed over the edge of the ring and remained seated there.

Though the two of you were only a few feet apart, there was so much more between you. Things unspoken, repressed, ignored - everything pushed you apart, prevented you from even looking him in the face properly.

Instead, you stared at the sand in front of you, trying to ignore the strong tugging in your chest that wanted to get to Eret.

"I didn't mean to interrupt, go ahead," Eret spoke, and surprised due to the gentleness in his voice, you jerked your head up from the suddenly far too interesting sand.

You frowned, waiting for some stupid comment, as you had been doing for a year, but Eret remained silent, continuing to look at you with the same desire in his gaze.

You hated him for that, hated that despite everything he kept looking at you as if he could pull you the stars from the sky, as if you were the most innocent being in this world, because after everything you had done, what you had said, he should hate you and make you feel how much you had hurt him.

You hated him for staying true to his promise of "I will always wait for you" and reminding you every day what a bad person you were.

"We should train together."

You surprised yourself with the suggestion, the words had spilled out of you even before you could think twice about it and now lay in an awkward silence before you both.

Eret raised one of his arched brows, eyeing you in a way that sent goosebumps all over your body. "Are you sure?" he asked, and to your shock, all warmth was gone from his voice.

Uncertainly you took a step back, trying to escape his piercing gaze, while knowing full well, here in the middle of the ring, there was no place to hide yourself or your feelings. As always, even the smallest part of you was on display in front of Eret. He could see everything, from your tense shoulders, to the twitch in your mouth as you pondered your own words, unsure of what to answer now that he had caught you cold.

And as quickly as his vulnerable side had come, it was gone, and his thin lips turned into a smile, even if it looked a little forced. "I mean, are you done with your exercise? Shouldn't we rather talk briefly about what we're going to do tonight?", his words didn't give you their intended reassurance, there was something else in them quite covertly, a reproach that you could understand.

Nevertheless, in a few hours you had to perform in front of an audience, your personal problems had no place in the ring.

It was hard to concentrate when your eyes were constantly searching for Eret and your heart wanted to avoid any contact, if it could be avoided. You were supposed to be getting the ropes and weights for the trapeze and the swing made of light birch wood with the shiny silver cloths on their ropes, ready for your rehearsal, while Eret was stretching and warming up on the wooden floor next to the ring.

Supposed.

Because in the time Eret had taken to warm up completely, you had just managed to accidentally knot and then unknot four of the ropes, and the swing was hanging way too high, even for Eret. Just like the ropes, you felt a knot in your heart and lungs as Eret rushed to your aid and you stood beside him with bated breath, forced to watch near him as he corrected your mistakes, as he so often did, with a steady hand and a slight smile.

You couldn't step away from him fast enough once everything was ready and without consulting him further you went to the other side of the ring where a thin ladder led high under the tent.

You knew Eret's gaze was on you as you began the climb, but you tried to ignore it and continued stubbornly climbing the cold rungs higher and higher. Eret seemed to realize that there was no point in just standing around waiting for you to coordinate further with him, because he checked the ropes one last time. Then he took a running start, pressed his heels into the ground, and ran toward the ring in the middle.

As much as you wanted to concentrate on your own climb, a little peek couldn't hurt, and attracted by Eret's sprint, you looked just in time to see Eret's hands get a grip on the ring. He gave it a quick tug and jumped, the moment one of the weights fell on its side, sending him hurtling up with the ring.

Even from a distance, you could see the two strands of hair falling reluctantly into his face.

It was strange to step on top of the platform and the narrow plank and see Eret instead of Foolish's beaming laughter. While Foolish would now be swinging back and forth, distracting you, Eret sat elegantly in the ring, legs crossed, most likely going over all the forms and exercises in his mind. When he saw you were ready, he smiled at you and sat up straight.

"Are you ready?"

"Are you ready?" whispered Eret in your ear from behind. You hadn't even heard him coming through the thunderous applause of the audience and winced slightly at the sound of his deep voice so close to you. Your heart began to beat faster. It didn't help your nervousness that Eret was gently stroking his fingertips over your free arms and resting his chin on your head.

You pressed closer to him, leaning into the embrace to calm your nerves. "Yes."

From behind the curtain, Wilbur's loud voice rang through the microphone and echoed in the packed tent, vibrating with the excitement of the many people who had squeezed into the rows of seats and now leaned further forward in anticipation.

"Dear audience, my dear children, it is with pleasure that I now introduce the highlight of our evening: the royal couple of the skies!"

People seemed to explode, jumping up from their seats and shouting your names, clapping their hands frantically or drumming their feet on the ground, which began to shake under the mass.

Eret stepped to your side and held out his hand to you. Both your faces reflected the biggest grins, the anticipation and adrenaline of performing now flowing hotly through your veins. Eret shone in the bright lights of the circus tent, beaming like the sun in his golden and sparkling outfit.

"Then let's fly"

What was wrong with you today? You cursed yourself mentally for your emotionality, it had no place in the ring! It was of no use to you to think about old times, if these were banished to the darker sides of your memory. After all, that had been the point. You didn't want your feelings for Eret to make your work harder, and that's why you had broken off contact completely.

So why wouldn't your head stop bombarding you with the beautiful moments?

You shook yourself.

"We can start," you called out to Eret.

Please let this training become normal, was all you told yourself like a mantra.

And for the first half-hour, everything seemed normal. Both Eret and you fell into work mode as soon as you took a running start and jumped off the platform into his waiting arms.

No racing heart, no faltering breath, not even a goosebump flitted over your body as you turned in the air. Okay, maybe you had had a brief trip of your heart once when Eret was just hanging off the ring with his legs holding you by your back so you were looking him straight in the white eyes, but you blocked that out. You didn't have to talk much during practice, the previously arranged choreo, from which you had adopted and restructured many elements from previous years, still sat clearly in both of your minds and so the only comments were about your posture or when you needed a little help from the other.

All was going well until you climbed the ladder for the last repetition and were greeted at the top with the feeling of not being able to breathe.

Your thoughts were all about the fear of jumping into Eret's arms in front of an audience. An audience that was probably happy to see you and Eret together again. They will notice the strange vibes, they will notice that something is different.

Nothing is the same anymore. Your performance will never have the same effect on people as it did a year ago, how are you supposed to have the courage to jump?

They hit you out of nowhere, making you take a step back in shock. Blindly, your hands grabbed the railing, clinging to it hard enough that your fingernails met the heels of your hands and dug lightly into the flesh there.

"Are you all right?" you heard Eret's voice slightly muffled, it was as if you had water in your ears.

"Yes, of course," you answered. Your own voice sounded foreign, far from yourself, like a fake copy.

"Are you sure?" he pecked, and something snapped inside you.

It wasn't even Eret's fault, it never had been. It was your fears that had fought their way to the surface, where they gnawed at your nerves and made you feel all sorts of things. Most of all, though, you were angry at yourself for always wanting to be the unapproachable one, not letting any feelings get in the way of your career, and thus driving away the one person who had taken to your heart.

Nevertheless, you pointed your gun at Eret.

Your head snapped up, sparkling eyes boring into Eret, who had leaned toward you with concern. "Why wouldn't everything be okay?" you almost hissed at him, not recognizing yourself in the ugly words you threw at him "Can we get this shit over with already? I have to get ready for tonight, and I really don't feel like wasting my time here. I never had these jump problems with Foolish."

You regretted everything as soon as it left your mouth, but it had already left its damage.

Eret winced, losing the gleam in his eyes that you normally loved, and with it every bit of vitality was taken out of his posture. He fell into the ring like a doll whose ropes had been cut, holding on only by necessity so as not to fall into the depths.

You had told him all sorts of things a year ago, from excuses why you couldn't come to training, then not to come near him in general, and finally why it would be better if you had a new training partner from now on; none of those conversations had left Eret as beaten as this did now.

Your chest quivered with your rapid, panicked breaths. It felt like you had just run a marathon.

Everything inside you was screaming at you to apologize, wanting to feel that warm smile again, and you wanted to take back the words you said then.

"I can't perform with you anymore, I can't let you distract me".

Instead, you lifted your chin and blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes after your outburst. You couldn't cry now, not when it was all your fault.

"Shall we continue?"

"Why even force yourself onto the trapeze if you're afraid of falling?"

"What?" You pause.

"Why do you have that moment every workout where you stare frozen into the nothing as if you're waiting for it to come for you?" asked Eret, looking at you blankly "Just explain that to me, then we can end this whole thing. We should have trained enough for opening night"

"Because my trust in you is bigger than the fear of falling" Your answer was no more than a soft whisper in the huge tent where it should have been swallowed by the sounds of your surroundings, and yet you realized that Eret had understood you perfectly.

That spark was back in his eyes, a tiny bit of hope grown by your choice of words.

You, in turn, felt hopeless. Without saying goodbye to Eret, you turned on your heel. It was quite awkward, after all, you had to climb all the way back down the ladder, while Eret remained sitting at the top in the ring. One step after the other you climbed down, but on the last one you slipped slightly from the metal. This little mishap ended in your knee hitting the ladder, and your howl of pain echoed throughout the tent. After that there was nothing for you to hold on to, no reason to stop your tears. All the problems of the whole day, from the humiliating talk with Wilbur to the fight with Eret and that little accident on the ladder were the last straw.

Tears smeared your escape from the tent and ran hot down your cheeks. You didn't care that the circus place was filling up by now and you had to run through the many members of this big family who were in the final preparations. All the shouted questions about your well-being were ignored, they wouldn't be able to help you anyway.

In your trailer, the slamming of the door caused Foolish to jolt up from his nap, squealing, eyes tired, until you drop down next to him on the bed in the small two-room trailer, crying.

"Oh my god, what happened? Are you all right? Did you fall? Did you go to practice?", Foolish ambushed you with questions that you managed to answer with a shake of your head.

Your lip quivered as you tried to explain the situation to him. "Will gave me a new partner because you're not allowed" you sniffled after wiping your nose with the tissue Foolish had given you and calming down a bit "I'm supposed to perform all season with Eret" Saying the name made you howl again.

"Ouhh," Foolish took a deep breath "Now I understand the crocodile tears. That's no reason to cry"

You wrinkled your nose "Then you don't understand anything. I can't perform with him anymore"

Understanding, Foolish nodded thoughtfully. "Because you're still in love with him"

Outraged, you looked at him through a curtain of new tears. Surely he couldn't be serious? "Am not!" you contradicted him, desperately searching for a good reason why you couldn't perform with Eret. All the reasons you could think of were matters of the heart.

But you couldn't be in love with Eret, then you would have spent the whole year ignoring him for absolutely nothing except two broken hearts. You didn't want to see that, it hurt too much to admit it. You were not in love, you just decided not to be.

Two thumbs gently stroked your flushed cheeks, wiping at the sticky remnants of tears before Foolish handed you another handkerchief to wipe your nose. "I was wondering when you'd finally realize it. Took you long enough, although with the size of your stubborn head, I'm not surprised."

If you weren't busy second-guessing every decision you've made in the last 300 days, you would have definitely smacked him for that comment.

"What if my work suffers from a relationship?" you asked quietly before snorting "If it ever comes to that. Eret will never be able to forgive me, my god, even I can't forgive myself."

Foolish rolled his eyes and patted your head, he didn't know exactly how to comfort someone who had lived in ignorance to their feelings, but sometimes he saw Will pat Tommy's head like that when the boy had done his job well. "You can only find that out for yourself. I don't think you're afraid of losing your career, but rather falling if the relationship doesn't work out, which I don't think it will. Besides, Eret is clearly smarter than you, I wouldn't compare you to him."

You looked up, warning him with one gaze and pointed to your chest, "I'm sitting here crying my heart out, and you're making fun of me? Great best friend I've picked there."

"What? I'm not making fun of you, I would never think of it."

"That's right, you've got nothing but stupid ideas floating around," you grumbled. The man next to you was about to object when you tapped lightly against the cast on his leg. "Don't say anything. This is actually your fault, Foosh. It all goes back to you trying to show off in front of Sam. What are you looking at me like that for? I know I'm right... Hey!" Protesting, you tried to fight back against Foolish, who had started pushing you out of bed, muttering to himself, at the mention of Sam the muscleman and sword swallower.

"You help once and get rewarded with something like this" He clicked his tongue and pressed his hand against your face as you struggled. "Come on crybaby. Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

You paused in your movement. Sure enough, dusk had already set in, flooding your trailer in warm reds and pinks. Outside in the square, the first lanterns were already shining, and if you weren't mistaken, there were even visitors walking around.

"Oh fuck."

You had never changed so quickly as you did today. You should get a medal for that, because squeezing into that sparkly white suit was a sport. Fortunately, Foolish sat on your bed and uttered all sorts of phrases that you could use to explain to Eret why you had acted the way you had. That half of these ideas could be scratched for the simple reason that you were guaranteed not to apologize to him with "I was too stupid to know what I was feeling" was not necessarily helpful. But it did feel good to know Foolish was on your side, even if he had to work on his comforting.

"And remember not to cry again, that wouldn't help at all with the performance, you have to see everything after all"

"Yes yes I will try. Oh my heart, I can't believe what I'm doing right now" you talked to yourself while jumping from one foot to the other while putting on your sneakers. "Foolish I can't do this," you howled as you snapped the last latch shut and already had a hand on the doorknob. "What if he hates me? He's going to hate me, I hate myself for it. He won't catch me, what if he doesn't catch me? Foo-"

"It'll be alright!", Foolish interrupted you smiling "Get lost or you'll run out of time".

The door had flown open and you were almost through the frame when you ran back in. Under Foolish's questioning gaze, you ripped at the handle of the small brown dresser next to the door, pulling it open hard enough that the small plant on top began to shake dangerously. You rummaged through all the stuff - why did you have to own so much stuff? - until your fingertips brushed metal.

Holding two hair clips tightly in your clenched fist, you ran across the meadow, past the many dark caravans whose inhabitants had all long since migrated to the large square. At one trailer, a snow-white one with a golden door frame and shutters, you stopped, your free hand raised to knock.

Thump, thump, thump

Your heart beat just as fast as your hand against the door, thump thump thump, in one beat.

Knock knock knock

No response.

Thump thump thump, your feet kept running, faster than you could think and yet every step made you realize more clearly what a mistake you had made then.

Your legs carried you through the ankle-high grass to the colorful fairground that had come to life with the evening. You walked under the tall entrance arch onto the gravel path, under the illuminated large letters of the circus "Cirque des Symphonies". Lanterns lit the crowded square where visitors gathered, moving from one of the many booths whose sales tables offered stuffed animals, homemade candles and souvenirs of the circus to the next. Couples strolled around arm in arm, sat cuddled together on the small Ferris wheel, or had themselves drawn by your painter Niki in front of the big circus tent. Colorful flags, strung from lamppost to lamppost waved in the light breeze, attracting the attention of the many children who ran laughing across the square, or begged their parents for a toy.

The smell of sweet cotton candy tantalized your nose as you scanned the entire square for Eret, because usually he was always mingling with the visitors or sitting on the fence of the petting zoo, introducing your rabbits and chickens to the children. But in the enclosure today was only Wilbur's nephew, Fundy. He shook his head when you asked if he had seen Eret.

No one seemed to have seen the trapeze artist, not your tarot card reader Dream, nor sword swallower Sam, nor your doctor Ponk, both of whom were inquiring about Foolish's welfare when you encountered them. You tried the other acrobatic team of Phil and Techno, horse whisperer George, and fire breather Sapnap, but they all just passed you on, many of them with knowing faces, at your sudden need to find Eret.

You already thought you had asked everyone, when you ran into Tommy and Tubbo, the two youngest members of your troupe, who were handing out balloons to the kids and messing around with Ranboo in front of the ticket booth.

"Of course, he's with Puffy helping her get the animals ready" Gratefully you smiled at Ranboo.

"Do you want a balloon, (y/n)?", Tubbo asked you, holding the many colorful balloons in your face.

"You can have one of mine, too," Tommy interjected.

"Or one of mine"

"Mine are nicer"

"Mine have much more air"

"But (y/n) will like mine more, right (y/n)? (y/n)?"

You hadn't even heard all of the competition between the two boys, but had hurried on directly after the information from Ranboo and were already pushing aside the curtain to the back entrance of the tent when Tommy noticed you were missing.

With the curtain closing behind you, the sounds from outside became quieter, laughter and children's screams were drowned out by the loud beating of your heart and the rushing blood in your ears as you trailed across the sand strewn for the animals. You were about to turn the corner when you heard a deep laugh and stopped abruptly.

"Don't give it much thought," you whispered to yourself.

And stepped out of the shadows.

Just as Ranboo had told you, Eret stood next to Puffy, dressed in his gold skin-tight suit and his brown hair in a braided bun. He looked stunning in the dim light, just as he had a year ago. Ghosts of the past crept up your neck, gnawing their way into your heart and stealing your breath. All that mattered was him, there was no other thing for your thoughts to revolve around.

Outside it got quieter, the crowd started to fill the tent and their voices pushed to you, pushed you.

You didn't have much time.

Slowly, you approached them. Puffy was the first to catch sight of you and, like everyone else, seemed to understand what was going on because she didn't hesitate a bit, wished both of you good luck and disappeared behind a curtain to her animals.

Surprised at the "both of you", Eret turned to you, immediately there was that sadness in his eyes again, even if he smiled sadly at your, matching his, outfit. "Are you ready?" he asked you and you almost turned on your heels, but you didn't want to experience Foolish's wrath at that any less than what you wanted to tell him.

"No" You took a deep breath "No I'm not ready. Not yet. I have something to tell you, maybe I'll be ready after this, but first I want to talk to you", you began, staring into the sand on the ground because you knew you would break down if you had to look Eret in the eyes.

All those years of jumping from trapeze to trapeze, you never felt so much in free fall as you do now.

It was funny, suddenly the jumps you had hesitated before didn't even seem like the one you had in front of you. All the fears, all the worries and panic, sleepless nights tossing and turning, and all the tears you had cried over the absence of Eret in your life, all of that lay beneath you as you cautiously took a step toward Eret.

You had your words ready, they were on your tongue, ready to give them to Eret with your heart when the brunette cleared his throat.

"No matter what you're about to tell me, I want you to know one thing beforehand. For me, nothing has changed since last year. I don't just like you, (y/n).. I am so in love with you that it breaks my heart knowing that you hate me so much you wouldn't even want to work with me. After tonight, I will talk to Will. I'm sure we can find another replacement. One, that can give you the comfort i apparently can't provide"

Had it not been for the thunderous applause of the audience behind the curtain, the breaking of your heart would have probably been heard by everybody. Instead, clapping filled the deafening silence, followed by the onset of the music that always accompanied Will during his entrance.

You opened your mouth, but no words would come out.

The time in which neither of you spoke dragged on crushingly, and yet only a few seconds seemed to have passed before Will's voice sounded through the speakers, giving you the very signal to line up.

No time, you had no time.

"We have to go," Eret whispered, visibly defeated, not even bothering to smile like he was okay anymore. "Let's talk afterwards"

"No," you said urgently "This can't wait any longer."

The pure desperation in your voice seemed to change Eret's mind. Although the first performances had already begun, he turned away from the curtain leading to the ring. Hope blossomed in your chest, growing through Eret's waiting gaze. You moved closer until he noticed the trembling of your hands, still tightly gripping the hair clips.

"I love you Eret, I love you so much it hurts to think about what all could have been if I hadn't been so stupid," you cried out, once again close to crying, which only made you more emotional because you weren't supposed to cry after all, you had promised Foolish. "Eret, I was so stupid. I never wanted no contact, but that seemed easier than telling you how I felt or being around you every day when I was burned by your presence alone. I was too much of a coward, still am, because it took me so long to understand how much of a fuck up I was and admit it, but I can't live in that lie anymore. You don't deserve that."

It was almost impossible to hold back the tears, but somehow you managed. Somehow you even managed to stretch out a trembling hand to Eret. "Please," you begged him, "I don't hate you and there is no other person I trust like you. I give you my life and my heart"

Before you knew it, Eret had pulled you close to him by your outstretched hand. His lips found yours faster than you could realize what was happening and when you did, it was overwhelming.

Eret tasted like cotton candy and petrichor, and he kissed you as if the world was about to end. Startled, a gasp escaped you, adrenaline pumping through your veins as his hands held you tight, preventing you from sinking into his arms as your trembling knees indicated.

You fell. Fell for Eret, his hands that never wanted to let you go again, you fell for his lips and the leap of your heart every time he kissed you again and again, every time with a wider smile forming against your mouth.

"I love you", he muttered"I love you, I love you, I love you"

Eret pressed his forehead against yours, white pupils wandering across your face in disbelief.

In the background, the drums started beating.

In the same beat as your heart, in the same beat as Erets.

For the first time in a year, you were in a rhythm, on the same page.

"I have something for you"

"There can be something better than your heart and your life?" Eret sniffed, wiping one tear out of his eyes.

At the sight of the hair clips, another tear rolled down Eret's powdered cheeks, and after you gently pinned his loose hair strands back, he pulled you into another kiss that left you breathless.

You almost missed Will's announcement, the calling of both your names. Your heart leaped in your chest as you felt Eret's hand in yours. Taking one last deep breath, you tried to focus on something other than the feel of his lips on yours and looked up at him.

"Are you ready? Then let's fly."

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon, profanity, abuse, anger issues, anxiety, arson, bullying, child neglect, child abuse, drugs, addiction, anorexia, guilt, pills, unprotected sex, stalking, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART ONE 

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM - PART TWO

IN THE TRAILER

She ran away from him in the hallway.

He’d warned her of what would happen if she did.

Knowing it was a matter of when as the next day he was left waiting, grazing the halls of where she’d left him with a kicked ball-sack on the dirty school-floors, all lovesick and frenzied with fire ants raging over his skin and a manic promise that one way or the other he’d get her. Lying in suspenseful spiteful wait to tell everyone what type of slut the little spitball in class 3c General Studies really was.

But, timing was everything, and as the day went by without him spotting her he realized the opportunity to ruin her reputation in school wasn’t going to rear its head.

She was home… 

Sick.

Or, that’s what she’d told the school. One quick question at the reception told him so.

She was home. 

Home in that run-down trailer-park sorry-excuse for a home she despised, the one she cried about so often, the one with neighbours who didn’t give two shits worth a damn about who she was or that her mother was a crackhead-whore in no position to take care of her. 

She was there instead of at school begging him to stop, begging for him to give her a second chance, begging him to kiss her, like she was supposed to do.

Standing outside her trailer, he wondered if whether her mom was home or not. He wondered if either one of her neighbours would care if they saw him break in, if it even was considered breaking in.

He spotted her mother slouched on a beach-chair beside some other trailer with a needle still stuck to her arm, ugly destroyed skin sizzling in the summer-heat, mouldy flip-flops sticking to her feet. 

He cringed at the sight of it, but knew then that his pursuit would go on unprovoked, which at the very least brought him some sense of relief.

She’d gotten in through scholarship as she in no form or way could afford a school like UA. That much was clear, unlike how unclear the crystal-meth shards decorating the plastic salon-table placed on the outside of their van was. 

She transferred half-way through the first year, all on the account of pure hard work.

He could respect that. 

He did respect that. Given she was quirkless and all. It was the reason she’d caught his eye.

It all went sideways when she rejected his invitation to Homecoming.

He’d already gone miles away out of his comfort-zone, out of his element, talked himself into asking her out, only for her to turn him down.

Him.

Best student in Hero-course 1A at the time.

Rejected.

He knew it was petty of him to bully her because of it, but… she didn’t only make a fool out of him, she broke his fucking heart.

He could have listened to Kiri, and tried to forget about her through some other extra, but... he wanted her. He’d decided. She was his. And a quirkless trailer-rat like her was in no position to just say no.

In some sick sense he believed she deserved better. Him being better. But, he would like for her to ask for his help, instead of him just giving it to her. He would like to see her grovel, beg, just a little bit, or a lot. He wanted to see her regret her decision. He wanted to see her sorry. He wanted to see her want him as much as he wanted her. And he wanted it to be her who initiated it.

But… he could see that wasn’t happening. He could see that his unorthodox methods of courting her through continuously trying to bend her until she broke only consisted of her rewinding or snapping back like a rubber-band.

She was distracted, too busy being broken by what life had given her, too busy with juggling different shifts, bills, schoolwork, to be thinking about him and how he pushed her around a bit at school.

He eyed the cracked paint of the faded trailer with much the look of a snob on his face. Fingers brushing over the door-handle, testing how much noise it would make if he were to pick the lock, coming to a complete loss. 

He could barely believe it… the door was unlocked, and when he stepped inside he was even more distraught to see there was no existing lock there to be locked in the first place. 

Meanwhile her mother was too busy slowly dying to better protect her daughter from depraved humans who could come and do just about anything they wanted with her.

Meaning… just look at him.

Soft snores brought him back to where he was once he closed the door behind him. Making the short way to the source of the groggy sounds, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of how wrong it was of him to be there, sneaking about like some love-obsessed sick stalker, getting turned on by hearing his prey sleep.

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

And why didn’t he care enough to stop?

He stood at the foot of her bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers, head tilted to the side to view her sleeping frame.

Sleeping on top of the covers, not under.

He doubted it was because of the heat, the same way he doubted the mattress beneath was clean.

She was curled onto her side, knees bent and tucked up. Cute with that teddy-bear she used as a pillow, silly and stupid but cute because of it, especially in her uniform despite having left the tie and blazer off.

She was wearing her uniform.

Meaning... she’d either gone to bed with her clothes on and slept through the entire day, or she had planned on going to school this morning, but weaseled her way out like the weakly coward she was.

Well, in that case… what he was about to do would serve her right then...

Ought to teach her lesson.

He lifted his hand out of his pocket, producing a finger to poke her ankle softly, before stroking up a path alongside her socks, all four other digits joining in the stride before the fabric came to an end and his callous fingertips glided onto the doughy flesh of her leg, over the dome of her knee and onto her even softer thigh, coming to the edge of her skirt.

He always liked her in that skirt. 

That’s where his mind was at as he started lifting to see what underwear she was wearing, yet never getting that far as something sharp dug into each side of his wrist.

Her nails weren’t of course any close to lethal, yet managed to surprise him as she whipped around to meet him, digging the talons into his roughened skin.

She might not have prioritized figuring out who it was that was currently touching her in her bed, but she had assessed the situation enough to know that someone was in fact in her house and touching her, something of which is not a good omen when you live where she lived, nor in any other situation for that matter.

He tried subduing the splash of struggles that followed her awakening by climbing and crawling some further up on the bed in order to control what myriad of flailing limbs came at him. 

Soon, hands that had primly started clawing at him were safely locked in his much larger hands.

“Oi, relax! It’s just me!”

As if it being him would have any other effect than of rising her already racing heartbeats. Yet, even as her lungs heaved for as much air as her tight chest would allow her, he managed to capture her focus, her hands pinned to each side of her head whereas her feet were stopped amidst their kicking, crushed beneath the weight of the much stronger, much more encompassing mass and weight of Katsuki’s legs.

He hunched over her, back arching with his face a mere half-foot away from her own, the only thing supporting his upper-body being his arms, which were stretched out and grasping at her wrists, pushing them into her pillow.

Her eyes were large with craze-ridden fear as they locked with his recognizable carmine ones. 

“Bakugo?” 

Shocked and scared, with the creeping feeling of anticipation waving over her again, now all for different reasons then when she first understood there was an intruder in her caravan. 

Somehow, it being Bakugo gave her an even starker unsettling eerie feeling than if it had been a total stranger. Maybe because oblivion is bliss and knowing what is to come makes the inevitable that much more inescapable. 

Still, she demanded he tell her, even though she thought she might already know the answer. 

“What are you doing? Why are you here!?”

“You weren’t at school.” He stated, spoken as though it preforming as explanation enough, though serving as far from it to the girl beneath him, the confusion shown in the way she scrunched her brows together.

He noticed, contemplating whether or not he should make his reasons known, but deciding against it and for playing with her for just a little while longer.

“I thought, since you managed to wiggle your way out of your punishment at school, I’d bring the punishment to you.” 

He searched her features for any cracks in her composure, but though she looked beyond uncomfortable, she made no moves to push him off.

Her eyes squinted instead, narrowing at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, Bakugo. I know you’re not gonna hurt me.” 

Her body started twisting under him. The action far from vigorous, mainly meant to show her discomfort as she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere unless Katsuki decided she could.

And though the intention to her wiggling was not to evoke his arousal, it most certainly managed to do just that.

He inhaled sharply and she felt her body freeze up, seize at the feel of his hips making a shift to slot himself against her, grinding down onto her flattened and unmoving body.

“Hurt you?” 

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, like building thunder. 

“Who said anything about hurting you?”

Her breath strained as his eyes scrunched closed upon her jerking, his own teeth sinking into his bottom-lip to maintain the hiss on his tongue at the pull in his pants, his head descending to nuzzle against her chest, spiky hair poking at her chin. 

Mouth breathing hot breaths onto her ear, causing her to whimper.

“Thought you just said you weren't scared?”

She swallowed thickly, improperly giving his rhetorical question an answer, feeling her wrists go numb under his hold and her blood running cold.

“Bakugo…?” 

He didn’t answer and she felt herself go even more rigid at the absence of his voice.

It wasn’t often Katsuki didn’t speak back to her when she willingly spoke to him. In fact, it was never. But now, he was quiet, too quiet, making the frightening rugged sound of his heavy breathing overwhelm her ears, dulling her senses in the process before everything being sent into hyperdrive upon the feeling of his hand leaving her one wrist to cup her breast outside her shirt, giving the mound a careful and slow yet full squeeze.

She yelped at the sudden attack, her body jumping up against him, making yet another teasingly harsh contact with his clothed cock.

This time he hissed, both upon her delicious little struggles but also because her newly freed hand had actively made the decision to pull his hair as a desperate means of making him move.

It worked to some extent, at least in freeing her other hand which opened for the opportunity to drag herself out from beneath him. 

Yet, the action was stopped in a series of rather clumsy fighting, where Bakugo managed to retract the upper-hand once again, pinning both her wrists with one hand whilst tugging loose his tie with the other. 

He’d slotted himself between her legs now, her skirt spreading and hiking up her thighs as she struggled to stop him from tying her wrists together and fasting them to the handicap-bar mounted on the side of the bed, yet failing.

Her body free for him to touch now, to tamper and play with, and she felt her heart catch in her throat, small pleas coming erupting from the place because of it, but he didn’t seem to hear her, and if he did, he was electing to ignore the pitiful sounds.

His hands traveled down her sides, thumbs rubbing over the scratchy material, the fabric of her shirt stiff as a result of using dollar-store laundry detergent.

White shirt; made up of thin fabric to make the fight against the Tokyo-heat easier, yet resulting in it being so temptingly easy to make see-through with just a little spill of water. Water Katsuki was always so eager to pour, either with light teasing spritzes from his water-bottle or in carrying her over his shoulder into the showers and holding her there as the water rained down upon her, drenching both her and himself, then offering ever so mockingly if she would like to borrow a shirt, because unlike her he had a dorm-room with fresh and dry clothes, whereas she only had that one uniform and all other clothes made up of more holes than actual textile.

He chuckled at the memories as his fingers moved up-front and centre to tamper with the buttons.

“I bet you just hate this uniform, don’t yah?” His voice, although maintaining the snicker, was soft. Not loud and abrasive and rushed, but as though he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that, drinking in the moment.

His movements too, were slow; careful.

Large warm hands stroking down the bare skin of her stomach, feeling the tremors as he did so, with eyes glued to those perfect mounds found beneath what looked like a well-worn sports-bra, making him wonder what she’d look like if he were to dress her up in expensive red lace. She’d be mouthwatering to look at either way, and breasts are just as soft whichever way they’re dressed… it’s not like the bra is staying on for too long anyway.

He swallowed thickly to stop his mouth from dripping.

He tucked her shirt out from her skirt, taking a moment to grip her midriff and squeeze to try and ease her struggling. 

It only resulted in her thrashing even more, whirlwinds of panicked get-off-me’s and fuck-you’s and stop’s spilling from her mouth in rapids, but the plead seemed to repel off Bakugo’s ears like water off a ducks back where the desperation only aided in satiating his sick sadism, in the same fashion tears fell from her eyes aided in making his stomach churn or flutter with something he could only describe as bliss, her arms trying to the best of their efforts at tugging at her bonds, to no avail except for making the skin found their chaffed and sore.

He spent a few seconds deciding whether he wanted the skirt on or off as he felt up the fabric between his fingers, more memories flushing his mind with such sweet and potent nostalgia of him lifting up the short excuse for coverage in the school-halls every day to sneak a peak at her underwear, or those times he would bend her over classroom-desks and push his bulge where it would fit so snuggly against her ass.

“Kinda feels like this skirt gets shorter and shorter for each year...” He mused, stroking up the skin of her thighs, lifting the fabric in the process, revealing a pair of black cotton boxers which, despite being lackluster, forced a groan to rumble from his chest.

The fuck-you’s had turned to please’s and the change made a smirk curl onto his lips as he put his lips to the inside of her thigh before pulling away to look down at her, all spread open and quivering for him. 

Breasts all perfect, squished together in the comfort of her bra, hair splayed on top of the pillow, her nose turning all red and adorable with her eyes brimming with both panic and tears.

Her skin felt so soft and untouched beneath his fingertips as he stroked up and down her thighs, pulling them towards him, as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow, slightly struggling with how much the panic had taken a hold of her, her legs kicking and flailing.

But he liked it that way. 

Messy and desperate.

“Don’t be difficult, Quirkless, you’re not getting out of this.” He spoke so calmly, so collected and controlled and determined. As though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, as though this was his right. “This is the only thing you’re any good for anyways.”

He leveled with her clothed little sex, slung her legs over his shoulders, watched as she squirmed upon his breath, heard her whimper and plead with his name as he stuck his tongue into the fabric, her legs doing a little involuntary kick while her thighs where firmly secured in his hands.

“Worthless quirkless little pussy on legs.”

She sobbed as his fingers latched around the ribbon of her underwear, pulling, tearing the fabric, with no need to pull it down her legs, just a need to pull them off.

A content and knowing smile made its way onto his lips, yet she was unable to see it in her position, something of which she was thankful for, or… as thankful as one can be when being defiled by a friend. 

Not that Bakugo was much of a friend anymore, but he had been, at some point before he'd offered more than one concerning opinion about quirkless people and their place in the world.

Of her place in the world.

He didn’t share her nostalgia though, not when the future was smiling at him with the face of her shaven warm pussy right in front of him.

“Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me? Huh? Knew I was coming?” He teased as she shook her head sporadically, unable to form any type of words in her overwhelming embarrassment and fear and panic.

He grinned smugly, despite knowing it was due to her spot on the swimming-team she kept herself clean and hairless, also knowing that the only reason she took swimming-lessons was because she and her mom couldn’t afford the hot-water bill, making her take showers at school instead, and that a spot on the swimming-team gave her a free-ticket to using those showers anytime she wanted.

How many times had he snuck in there to watch her soap up her body?

How many times had he palmed his erection to the sight of her?

How much he’d wanted to waltz in and take her against the cold tiles, make steam roll off the walls, hearing her voice echo his name... 

Now he had the real deal though, no more time for fantasies.

She was smart, she was resourceful, but not enough to put a lock on her door.

She was lucky if one thought about it.

Lucky it wasn’t just any random guy who walked in and took her like Bakugo was going to take her.

Lucky it wasn’t just anyone’s tongue jutting out to lick up her spread folds.

Lucky it was Bakugo who was hugging her thighs close to him, using them as soft warm pillows as he nuzzled between them to lick and suck and bite at the little bundle of nerves found right there in front of him.

Lucky it was Bakugo that had her squirming and quaking and whimpering and crying. 

Because, taking everything into consideration, she was safe with him.

Safer than she would or even could be with anyone else for that matter.

Who else could really protect her like he could, like he will, like he has?

She should be grateful he still wants her after she rejected him, humiliated him like she did. She was sure going to pay for it tonight. But first, he could at least treat her to what she had been missing, especially when thinking of how much he was going to take from her before the day let up.

It almost made him feel bad.

Almost, being the keyword, because without it he wouldn’t have thought it funny how many noises she could make without alerting anyone from outside, how no one cared whether she blubbered out common sniveling protests and screams of his name, begging him to stop, or those equally loud yet scarce moans that sprung from her despite her not wanting them to, each time he sucked too hard or too harshly on her clit, teeth rubbing over the sensitive skin found there. Her hips dancing a panicked series of shimming from side to side, controlled in his grasp and only aiding in his tongue finding new places to lick and suck at as he laid abusive worship onto the temple between them. Nose bumping and dipping and rubbing onto places too tender as his mouth moved lower.

Her knees jolting as he kept them spread open, claws digging into the grabbable flesh each time she would pound the ball of her heel into his back, the movement always falling still upon the building simmering threat of explosions in his palms, pain much sharper than that of his nails.

She wanting nothing more but to wrench away, especially upon feeling the shameful treacherous dripping of herself down onto the bedsheets, disgusted with her body, humiliated beyond repair, with the tongue of Katsuki lapping up what mess he had made out of her, teeth from a grin gracing in feather-light motions, yet still managing to shoot electricity up her core. 

All she could do was pant and sob through moans and trying her best to force out more protests even though she knew it was to no use, until she felt him pull away, leaving her cold in loss of contact with heat. 

She doubted his removal was because she’d begged it from him.

Her doubts being answered as she heard the crisp clatter of a belt-buckle opening.

Her eyes were swimming, gifting her with more panic as she wasn’t even able to see what he was doing, yet knowing, again wishing she didn’t, wishing she was rather deaf as well as blind, wishing all her senses to simply give away, all so that she didn’t have to witness what she was surely soon going to have to be the victim of.

She heard the clothes dropping to the floor, looked up at him through bleary blurry eyes, still recognising the sandy nuance of his skin fully on display before her. 

His large hands found her knees again, prying them open. His hips fitting between her thighs.  

“Ba- ba- Baku- go,  plea- please, don’t- don’t… stop.” She choked on her tears, on her fear, on her panic, on the feeling of the cold breeze making her exposed sex shiver and beg for something warm to fill it up, on her disgust.

“Don’t stop?” He snickered, pinching her clit between his fingers, making her arch with a whine before trying to wrench away, yet stopped by his hands steadying on her knees, spreading her open for him.

His cock-head delved between her folds, and he had to catch a pathetic whimper from escaping his throat, settling for biting his lip instead and ridiculing the reason as to why he was feeling so weak in the first place. Growling at the little girl beneath him, all tied up and defenceless and hopeless and pathetic, but still able to make him feel so small.

“I knew you were just a stupid slut.”

It helped hearing her scream for him. 

It helped hearing her choke on her own gasps as he filled her tight little space up with the warm length of his cock. 

It helped feeling her squeeze and seize around the girth of him, hugging him close and tight, filling and stretching her out so nicely.

She had resorted to hectic crying, no words, no protests, just sobbing, hiccupping, coughing up her own cries. 

And, although he imagined himself growling and groaning he fell short of those guttural rusty sounds and fell prey to whimpering like a lovesick puppy humping a plushie-toy instead. 

His hands holding onto her hips as though letting go meant death as he rolled his hips into her, feeling her warm velvety walls welcome him home.

It felt so good he nearly barreled over, his face buried in her chest, hand coming up to enclose over her mouth as so to stop the cries and hear those soft muffled moans she made instead.

Small stifled broken wet mews spurred into his palm, as he kissed a trail up the valley of her chest and onto her neck, whispering with his breath shaky.

“If it makes you feel any better… this is my first time too.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because he was suddenly regretting his decision of being a monster, or maybe because the fright of being vulnerable disappeared at the feeling of conquering what made him afraid.

“I spread a rumour in second that I fucked Ururaka just to see your reaction.” He let out a breathy laugh, the open smile on his face indicated his nostalgia, as though it were a fond memory. “But you didn’t care at all did you?”

He snapped his hips forward, hitting something painful making her scream beneath his hand, opening it to hear her sob out in whimpers.

“Did you?!” It was accusatory and loud and right next to her ears, as he bared his teeth.

She was sure she was bleeding, feeling as though he was tearing her up, splitting her open, every harsh thrust felt deep within her abdomen, churning her guts.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor- sorry!” She spluttered out, more thick gulps of tears streaking her cheeks with red.

“You know what I think?” 

He leaned in closer, his nose poking into her cheek, lips brushing her ear, hands now having moved to cup her knees, pushing them up into the bedsheets beside her shoulders, hiking her up to meet his sharp thrusts. 

“I think you wanted this…”

She shook her head as his grin gleamed from seeing her discomfort.

“Leaving your door unlocked like that, you were begging for this to happen.” He laughed, biting her earlobe, heavy balls clapping against her ass.

She sniveled. “You- you know we can’t afford-” She started, but was cut off by her own broken moan as Bakugo yet again made another sharp movement, sending an earth-shattering smack to fill the crammed space of her RV, and then again cut off by Bakugo’s own response.

“Yeah? But you could still afford that dress you wore to Homecoming couldn’t you?” He sounded crazed, upset and angry and obsessed with making her regret it. “When you went with that fucking extra instead of me?” 

His forehead pushed against hers, eyes a feral red and large with rage, watching in sadistic glee as she scrunched her eyes together in pain, trying to block his voice out from her head. 

“Yeah, I bet you’re sorry now.” He growled, again taking a break from his series of shallow thrusts to push deep into her, making her whine in wet agony. “That was the worst mistake of your life and you’re gonna make it up to me tonight.”

He pushed himself up, looking down at the crying mess he was buried inside, licking his lips.

She couldn’t stop apologising, as he fucked into her, her hands going numb under the bondage of his tie around her wrists. 

“I’m sorr- sorry-” She croaked, face burning from her tears.

“Yeah? You better be.”

He gathered her ankles in his hands, holding them up, one hand coming to roll her sock down her leg.

“You’re gonna be.”

His hand caressed her small bare-foot tightly, thumb digging into her sole, his mind drifting to how cute and tiny it was, smaller than his hand, and strangely soft for someone who chooses to walk everywhere to save money.

“I’m sorry-” She blubbered. “I’m- I’m sorry...” 

She struggled for breath between her apologies and cries, forgetting how to inhale as Bakugo’s cock crammed into her, stripping her lungs of their air.

He kissed the pad of her foot, before leaning down again, hands once more cupping her knees and pushing them against the mattress.

“Good.”

She quaked beneath his stare, his sharp teeth too close as she cringed at the wet creamy sloshing sound of his cock pounding into her.

She had to look away, wanting to twist to hide her face in her pillow and cry until he was done.

But he wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me when I fuck you.”

Gathering her face between his fingers, he scrunched her lips together as his own face closed in, his teeth coming to bite down on the vulnerable pout.

“You’re nothing without me, you understand that?”

One of his hands seized around her throat, adding slight pressure to accommodate his words.

“Good for nothing.” He spit. “Except for being my little slut, right?”

His claws scratched her throat, making her mewl and suck at her bitten bruised lip, tasting the metal.

“Come on, slut, I asked you a fucking question!”

Again, he angled his cock to jut into her painfully, making her gasp in strained pain at the stretch, followed by a sob.

“I’m just a slut-” She sniffled, eyes spiralling when looking into his unforgiving scarlet ones.

He smiled again, kissing her cheek.

“Who’s?”

The kiss became a lick, as he dragged his tongue up her tear-slicked cheek.

“Who’s slut?”

He felt her tremble and stiffen under his tongue, her eye’s squeezing shut.

“Your slut.” She answered, but it proved not to be good enough as another sharp painful thrust hit her core. “Bakugo’s slut.” 

She knew it was wrong the second she said it as a growl rumbled against her neck, his teeth gracing, scraping against her tender flesh. 

“Katsuki’s slut!” 

The words all broken and wet and beautiful coming from her bloated and reddened lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her jaw, nibbling his way up to her mouth, whispering upon them. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re nothing without me.”

He kissed roughly, growling for her to kiss back, hand still tightly locked around her neck, begging for her to refuse him only for him to squeeze the life out of her.

His tongue pushed into her mouth as he slobbered and drooled above her, mouth sucking on her lips, trailing down her jaw and down her throat, nibbling and biting and lapping at her skin like some hound drooling over steak.

His hand left her throat to grasp her clothed breasts as he hit a particular spot, calling an unintentional bucking of her hips into him, making him groan in pleasure, his own thrusts gaining speed, hitting that same spot he now knew would make her unravel.

“You’re so lucky to get my cock.”

He worked himself into a taller position again, dragging himself off her chest to admire what artwork he’d made of her collar and chest.

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head, a petty begging-look on her face. 

It was a weak protest, almost enough to make him let it go, yet still outweighed by his need to make her pay.

His hips suddenly thrusting into her deeply, sharply, in all the ways he’d found out hurt.

She cried out. “No, no, Bakugo, please!” Panicked sobbing, her chest arching in pain, her legs coming to kick him off, yet were stopped as he pushed her knees into her chest. Jutting into her brutally.

“Say you love it and I’ll go slower.”

He saw her knuckles whiten at how hard she was balling her fists, tugging at her bonds desperately.

“I’ll fuck you good.” He promised, finding himself grow excited upon the thought. “Nice and slow like lovers do.” He had to snicker, even as she sobbed and hiccupped up screams that caught in her throat at his sharp thrusts, her eyes screwed tightly shut, allowing no tears to drop yet leaving them swimming in stinging salt.

His head dropped again to her temple, lips nibbling lightly on her cheek bone, his heavy breaths sounding louder than what snapping noise was made between his hips and the softness of her ass.

“Come on…” He drawled an impatient growl into her ear, a rumble that strung another whimper out from her.

More sobs followed, broken in their execution. “I love it… I love it.”

She hadn’t screamed it the way he wanted, but hearing it hang loosely onto her cries, all trembling and weak, was somehow better than what he thought he’d wanted anyway.

He slowed down, enough to lessen the sound of flesh slapping flesh and for the squishy noise of him filling her up again and again to replace it.

“What do you love?”

He made his way to rip open the seams of her shirt on her shoulder, not caring in the moment that she didn’t have a spare uniform to replace it. The shirt gone before she could even answer his question.

“You’re cock, I love you’re cock.” She sobbed, as her bra met with the same fate her shirt had, leaving her in just her little black skirt and one sock remaining, her tits springing loose, bouncing on both her cries and Bakugo’s movements.

“Fuck, good, such an obedient little pet.”

His head fell into the newly presented bare flesh with a moan, heavy panting as he slobbered up the valley between her breasts, palming the soft mounds before twisting the nipples between his fingertips, pulling at them, playing with them, his mouth sucking and biting, teasing the tender sensitivity.

His hands quitting their torment in favor of holding onto each their knee to keep her spread open for him as he rolled deeply into her spot.

“Feels so fucking-” He groaned, not bothering to finish the thought, before another impulse struck him.

His position in having his face buried in her neck and his body laid tight and snug on top of hers moved, making her feel the wisp of a chill coat her as their warm sweat-slicked bodies parted, feeling almost as though they were glued together as he pulled away, cock still being kept warm inside the comfort of her walls.

His hands came up to fickle with the knot that kept her hands locked above her head, his fingers sloppily tugging to loosen the tie, before gripping her hips tightly in a fashion meant to make sure she understood that despite being loose she was far from actually free.

Lifting her up of the spot she’d sunk into on the mattress and on to straddling his torso, his feet hitting the ground with a dunk with her propped up on his thighs, every little movement of his adjusting making his cock poke and message into other new dangerous places, places too tight to be attacked in whichever reckless unthoughtful way Bakugo saw fit.

Fingers running, or rather digging into her skin and making way to rake up her sides, grabbing and clinging to her midriff to pull her close, with his thighs beginning to impatiently move in a boyish manor to satiate the need for friction his member craved.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand made to grab her chin, allowing him to look over her, again tempted to bite into those lushes red lips, all bloated and made for his teeth to gnaw on. Yet, his mouth made way to her neck instead, licking up her throat, sucking on the thin skin, wanting to make his mark flourish in red explosions all over her.

“Be a good quirkless slut and bounce on my cock, make yourself useful for once.”

His knees jolted upwards making her hop, followed by his cock sinking deeper into her.

Her hands held uncertainly mid-air made to grip his shoulders at the further intrusion, biting back another cry, however unable to keep the sobbing sigh from rupturing her throat.

However, she wasn’t given long to recover as his hand came down to plant a red-hot slap on her ass, making her jump on her own.

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She started moving, unsure of what or which way to do it, finding the rhythm of rocking her hips forward after a while, earning a disgusting sigh of satisfaction from the blonde holding a bruising grip on her.

“That’s right...”

His arm moving to hold a death-grip on her waist, thumb digging into the underside of her ribs, poking each time she lolled forward and at the same time threatened her to stop.

His other hand came to grip her face again, stiff lips crashing against teary lips. Sucking her face as though stealing her life-source, only breaking between breaths to announce cocky cruel comments and instructions.

“Stay right there, slut.�� A thrust from his hips accompanied the nickname, making her wince and lurch forward into him. “Aww that’s cute.”

Both his hands went under her skirt to grab at her ass, lifting her up only to sleeve himself inside her once again.

“Does that feel good? Huh? Right there?”

Another slap and she rested even harder against his chest, trying to find comfort in the pitch black her screwed-shut eyes left her in, yet the overwhelming scent of caramel wasn’t easily ignored, and neither was how perfectly his cock sunk into her.

His hands fingered the fabric of her skirt as he bumped into her from beneath. Tugging on the textile until ripping it off, the action earning her gasp as she was now wearing nothing but her one sock, the skirt having provided as some false sense of coverage.

“Is the slut enjoying herself?” He mocked, a salacious grin constantly spreading on his face between moans and grunts.

She shook her head, the urge to fight herself to freedom awakening yet again as her hands moved to push at his chest. 

“No… stop.”

But her back was supported, or rather steadied, with Bakugo’s large palm, little sparking ignitions gaining control of her struggles quickly, the fight leaving her body with a whimper of defeat, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Another sharp thrust ripped a strangled moan from her and he grinned. 

“Liar.” He snickered. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little slut 'cause that's the only thing you know how not to fuck up, only thing your whore mom ever taught you.”

Forcing her hips to roll faster, the slick coated their thighs as her tits bounced for him.

“Does she share this bed with both you and her crackhead fuck-friends?” 

He couldn’t defend his need to make her cringe in his arms, why he wanted to see her ashamed, why he wanted her crying into him. 

“Such a freak. Are you gonna cum on the same sheets your mom sleeps on?”

Sharp fingers dug into her cheeks again, all because he wanted to be entertained by the show of her breaking.

He pulled her hips closer, fighting to hit that spot that had her mewling earlier, wanting to hear her mewl again, wanting to prove his point.

Once he found it she fell flush against him, melting in his hands, soft-spoken moans falling like drool down her chin.

“Like that, right there?” His words fell hot on her lips as his thumb pushed into her mouth and down onto her tongue, holding her chin in place. 

Her eyes crossed then upon his cock nudging in just the right way against her cervix, as well as her brows drawing up into a pretty eruption. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groaned, clutching tighter onto her hip, rocking her forward to meet his thrusts. “Are you gonna cum on my cock, huh?”

With his thumb still dipped into her mouth, she tried her best to retort. 

“No…” 

It couldn’t be referred to as defiance as it was too pitiful to be called that.

“Yes, you are.”

He sucked on her collarbone, making his way up by kissing a trail of slobbering kisses and bites to her ear. 

With his hips still angled just right, his thumb left her mouth to grip her other hip. 

He could feel her tight little pussy start to convulse around his shaft, small flutters that squeezed him tightly, milking him.

She hated that she wanted to spill over so badly. The surging swimming boiling buzz constantly teased by Katsuki’s plush cockhead pushing and poking and jabbing at her cervix again and again.

She felt it coming, the snapping, breaking, splitting, the building coming close to bursting, yet she was reminded of who she was with in her reach for bliss and found herself regretting chasing it.

“No, no, not with him, not with him, not-”

It was too late as she tried holding it back, tried grasping it as hard as she was clamping down on his cock, as hard as she was digging her nails into his shoulders.

The movements of his hips slowed down. 

“There you go. Feel good, slut?” He mocked as her body spasmed, skin freezing over under his touch, feeling disgusted, skin-crawlingly disgusted with herself and how she was unable to control the continuous spasms that seemed to ricochet through her spontaneously. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

His speed picked up again, humping into her, making her ride through her orgasm, feeling the almost painful ticklish pressure build again upon each time he bottomed-out ruthlessly inside the comfort of her wet walls.

“No, Bakugo stop, stop!” Her pleads weren’t met.

“Is it too much?” He laughed, gathering a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck in order to make her look up at him, making her wince as he spit his words into her face. “Mommy didn't do too good a job at raising her slut, I see. Can't even handle cumming without crying." He jeered, mock pouting at her with his forehead pressed into hers, blood-soaked orbs forcing eye-contact from her wide tear-stained ones as she whimpered. "Aw, is my cock too much for the little whore?”

“Yes, stop!” She couldn't care less if she was answering some cruel nickname , the painful pressure assaulted inside her was something too vehement she needed to make relent, but yet again was her plead answered with a lack of mercy in an eerie whisper and nothing more.

“I’m not finished yet.”

All she could do was beg for him to finish… so that’s what she did. 

“Please...”

He gathered her face in his hand again, fingers squishing into her cheeks hurtfully as he made to sneer into her face. 

“Please what? Please fuck your whore cunt harder? Please make you cum again?”

Even as he snickered and mocked, his cock twitched at the sight of her. 

Eyes all puffy and swimming in her own tears, eyebrows knitted together, begging for mercy. 

Completely and literally held in the palm of his hand, yet her gaze still managing to make him feel fuzzy with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, say you love me.”

Cold dread made up most of her body, what else was the rising crippling shameful feeling of something sweet knotting up somewhere in her lower abdomen again, this time harder than before as her already abused high was continuously pocked by Katsuki’s swollen cockhead kissing her cervix harshly again and again and again, driving her insane. And all of it made his demand impossible to answer, impossible to even comprehend.

Yet, she was in no position to refuse with her face held up between his fingertips and his crimson eyes boring holes straight into her terror-wide heart.

“Say you love me or I’ll cum inside you.” His voice lacking all she considered still human. Not a hint of remorse or guilt or shame or pity.

She gulped on her breaths, yet managed to voice the words. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Her eyes now unable to look away from him. Even as he picked up the painful pace, stabbing at her core, in places she had no former knowledge of, places the length of her fingers could never even as much as dream of reaching.

“Fuck.” A boyish virginal whimper laced the moan that escaped him at her words, satisfaction easing the raging and crazed look on his face. “I love you too.”

His toes curled painfully, cold and numb against the floorboards.

“I love you.”

Hands warm and sliding against dewy and doughy flesh.

"I love you."

Something pulling, straining, building to burst was chasing release, sending spasms to shoot through his shaft.

"I love you."

He knew what was coming. He knew it would be better than ever.

“We’ll get you a pill later, ‘kay?”

The guilt was washed over with the promise of painting her walls.

“It’s fine.” He tried reassuring as he felt her revolt in his arms, all her strength fighting to get off him, yet was no match against the force of his hands holding onto her, and his need to explode inside.

She resulted to begging instead. “No, no, Katsuki stop, don’t, please!”

Feeling her hope being crushed in his palm, picturing his laughing face as she turned her vision to black, his feral smile like supersonic light, dangerous and deadly and made to rip throats out.

And then it was done, she felt the last thrust like the last blow through her gut.

Cream filling her up, smearing between their thighs, Katsuki’s head resting on her shoulder with his hands holding onto her hips, fingers marking their presence into her back yet softening their grip with each of his panting breaths landing on her breasts.

Her blood ran cold through stiff veins, as though she were dead. Her skin crawling, as though rotting with mites. 

Sickness. 

Sickness in her lungs, in her throat, building, climbing up her pipes.

She slung herself off in a hurry, and with Katsuki coming down from whatever sick high he was riding, he wasn’t alert enough to catch her, which was probably a good thing because after her staggering her way to the bathroom, feeling his cum and her wetness leak out of her and drip along the inside of her thighs, she only barely made it in time to open the toilet compartment, get to her knees in the small space and haul her guts out into the small stained bowl.

Feeling like her mother, each time she came home all sweaty, mascara smeared with tears on her face like a garbage racoon, sticking her fingers down her throat and gagging until she collapsed on the floor, face laid in her own puke.

She heard Katsuki’s heavy footsteps, one and two before his hand met with her neck. Collecting her hair in a ponytail in his grip with the other hand encompassing her naked back.

She was afraid he was going to pull her up, expecting her scalp to soon scream in protest at the feel of her hairs being ripped up from their roots. 

Yet, as she awaited the torture… all she felt was the slow stroking of carefully placed paths running up her spine and then down to the small of her back in a manor either meant to be comforting or patronizing, with her hair being kept away from her face as she retched on repeat.

It was mostly just water and acid, and Katsuki made a mental note to make her eat later as he helped her up with his hands under her arms, supporting her when seeing how her shivering rendered her knees too weak to stand on her own, lifting her up on a tiny counter which would have been impossible for him if he were to try and sit on it, yet seemed the perfect size for her.

The ruff base of his thumb brushed the spit from the corner of her mouth, her large eyes meeting his own as he leaned in, soft weak hands only barely pushing against his chest in an act to stop him, but his lips pushed onto her anyway.

Parting with a string of silver connecting them, and he couldn’t help but fall prey to how beautiful she was even in her broken ugliness, how prettily her eyes fluttered with sticky eyelashes clutching together as though hugging for comfort, stray wisps of hair dancing in front of her face. Her wet breaths, sobbing breaths, hiccupping breaths, trembling past those soft pillow-y and blossomed lips, plump and full and bitable, or huffed through her nose, sniveling and sniffing and so very unfairly precious.

His thumb stroked over those lips, watching them quiver. 

He took time admiring her, feeling her cold fingertips vibrate against his chest, wondering if she could feel how hard his heart was hammering inside his ribcage with how much she was shaking. Wondering if she knew just how much he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted this, how despite him ignoring her cries, that she understood how this wasn’t in vain, how he wasn’t just doing this because he could, that he was doing this because he needed to, that he wasn’t doing this because he hated her but because he loved her, loved her too much to let her simply slip from between his fingers again.

His fingers latched onto the band of her sock, pulling it down and off at her toes, finally leaving her completely bare.

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

He moved to pick her up, uncaring of her newly sparked urge to fight him.

“No, Katsuki…”

She tried pushing, she tried making him stop despite everything being slippery and sticky and gross. The want to cry herself to sleep knowing and finding some comfort in the fact that Katsuki was done with her and long gone outweighed the want to get clean.

“The water’s cold, you won’t like it.” She argued in a weak attempt to sway him from the idea, yet knowing full well that he didn’t care.

“Come on…” He drawled as he caught her bothersome fists by the wrists in his massive hands. “We’ll take a shower and then we’ll go get your pill…” 

He fought to find eye-contact. 

“We both know you don’t have the money for it anyway…”

Typical of him to mention her situation. Typical of him to use it against her. And though it was typical, though it was predictable, it still made her heart clench, her soul twist, her spirit crumble.

He swore he saw something start to break in her eyes, wanting to deliver the final blow to snuff out whatever fight she still had left. 

He leaned in more, his nose brushing against hers.

“You need me.”

Her struggles stopped at that, Katsuki wrapping her legs around his back to support her as he carried her to the shower. Her cheek resting on his shoulder, completely deflated.

It wasn’t at all as in the movies. Sweet couples who help wash each other’s hair, warm bodies gliding against one another, soft perfect handprints printed on the dewy glass.

She hadn’t been lying, the water was freezing as the showerhead spritzed the water down on them with a force close to that of aching.

They didn’t both fit in the crammed space either, Katsuki was sure that even him alone wouldn’t fit in the tight space, where he was left to have one foot on the floorboards outside the door, water rushing into the hallway, running down his leg, but he didn't care.

His frame blocked the door completely, allowing her no shape or form of exit as he made her stand there, under the showerhead, hair slicking to her neck and nipples perking into hardness under the freeze, goosebumps strutted and coated her flesh from head to toe, her cheeks and lips blossomed with a purple hue, her eyes closed, head dipped in discomfort or shame or embarrassment or sorrow or a bit of everything and even more.

Her body trembled beneath his warm hands, as they cupped her breasts, palming them and playing and pinching with her back hunching in a weak effort to get her discomfort across, despite knowing how he didn’t care, with the fact having been proven time and time again.

His warm calloused fingertips brushed down her abdomen, eyes stark and loud as they looked at her body, thinking of how unblemished and beautiful her skin was as opposed to him, no roughness or ugly greenish bruises, just milky smooth and rosy suppleness and all his.

His hand traveled further, causing her small ones to reach out and grip around his wrist, both hands giving their best effort at trying to stop him. Though his other hand was quick to wrap around her throat and extract a sweet gasp with the movement.

Her hands removed their pressure yet remained on him as he brushed featherlight touches over the sensitiveness of her sex, fingertips dipping into her folds, slithering in the slick velvet of his cum mixed with her wetness.

A sob ricocheted through her as her toes curled, fingers bending and nailing into his wrist. Still, he continued. Fingers pushing inside, pumped knuckle-deep inside the puffy spongey walls, reaching deep before scissoring, making her knees bend, yet kept from falling by the hand around her neck keeping her up like a noose as he curled the two digits.

Her eyes avoided his, looking down at his limp cock who somehow seemed just as intimidating as before, like a sleeping beast ready to wake at any second. 

Yet, as much as he played with her sex, his own remained still.

He picked her up again as he saw more of her skin going purple, not really wanting her to get sick, just refreshed.

Water flooded on the soft-with-mould floorboards in the tight hallway as her feet dragged against the walls when he yet again carried her to the bed. And as much as she wanted to fight as he placed her dripping body down onto the sheets, she couldn’t find the energy. Tears, however, still managed to drip down her face, unhurriedly gliding down her cheeks, warm in stark contrast amidst the freezing shower-water.

“Do you wanna hear something really fucked up?”

It was rhetorical, but he wouldn’t have gotten an answer either way.

“I used to be jealous of your crack-whore mother…”

Her face cringed, confused yet still not desiring to know what he meant.

“Fuck, I’m still jealous when you come to school and I see that there's somebody else who makes you cry harder than me.”

She had to swallow in order not to gulp.

“You’re sick.”

Those were the wrong words, for as quickly as they entered the air, he was once again on top of her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs.

“I’m sick?” He questioned, fingers plunging inside her, a forced moan ripped from her throat. “You’re the one cumming and creaming and squirting all over my cock while crying.” He bit out while starting to pump into her cruelly, finding it easier now as she was already wet from before. “Telling me you love it, telling me you love me.” He laughed as he sneered. “Who would’ve known what a slut you are. So desperate you let your own bully fuck you like this. You fucking whore.” 

His pushed his thumb into her clit cruelly, a sadistic smile on his face as she struggled.

“Stop, shut up, shut up!” Her palms made to push at his hard chest, yet was weakened as she felt the burning sweetness start to pool were his fingers poked.

“You don’t like that nickname? No? Aww, that’s fine.” He hissed, then scoffed. “It’s not true anyway...” He muttered beneath his breath, trying to find what sweet spot his fingers could reach as so to have her unravel beneath him again, wanting to lick the sin from her expression, wanting to bathe in his victory of making her his. “How did it feel to have my cock balls deep inside your precious little virgin innocent cunt, huh? Better yet, how does it feel to know how I am your first? First to kiss you, first to fuck you, first to make you cum.”

“Fuck you.”

Any remnants of strength was now spent on those last words, as the rest was spared to support her oncoming orgasm, the one she could feel clawing, sucking all senses up as though preparing for an implosion.

“That’s right…” He whispered. “Fuck me. Your first and your last.”

His ominous tone had her guts churning, which in some sick sense only added to the pooling dam that was about to snap inside her, but she kept her eyes wide, further digging into what his words meant, wondering if this would be her last day on earth, wondering if Bakugo would be the last person she'd ever see, ever feel, ever touch.

“You look like I’m gonna kill you.” He observed as he curled his fingers once again, making her hips buckle into his hand, which in turn made him grin. “Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

His head dipped so that he could nibble at her neck, lick up the tender flesh with his fingers pumping in and out of her, coated in slick, collecting and drenching in his palm.

“I’m just gonna make sure no one ever touches what’s mine again…”

She couldn’t explain why the growl in his voice had her abdomen doing flips.

“Including that fuckface slut you call a mother.”

His fingers scissored, her back arching as she moaned.

“You’ll be lucky I even let you graduate.”

She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying anymore, just the lilt in his tone which had her falling apart beneath him, the walls of her pussy fluttering in pleasure.

“People go missing all the time.”

Her toes curled and she braced herself.

“That way I can have you all for myself.”

His warm lips pressed against her neck, his growls reverberating on her skin.

“All mine.”

His fingers poked at something that was about to burst and as she wanted to climb further up on the bed to escape it, she also wanted him to follow.

“Where you belong.”

And there it was, body melting into the mattress, all shame obsolete in those seconds.

Unable to see him lick her orgasm off his fingers as her eyes had crossed and traveled way too far into the back of her skull.

Unable to prepare for his kiss as her mouth hung open, soft feeble moans cut loose into the air, captured by Bakugo’s mouth.

She didn’t catch the second he stopped kissing her, nor did she catch the moment he got off the bed.

She must have fallen asleep for a short while because when she opened her eyes again Bakugo was dressed, rummaging through cabinets containing worn out clothes and things like it, seeming displeased with most of what he found.

She looked to her side, where placed on the bed was a towel, fresh underwear and a bra.

She motioned for the towel first, feeling the shameful wet stickiness between her thighs, hurriedly wiping it clean before putting on her garments, looking up to see Bakugo staring at her, having found something suitable to dress her in.

“Put this on.” 

She didn’t bother looking at what he’d so graciously offered her of her own clothes.

Her eyes narrowed at him instead. 

“I don’t want your help.” She sneered, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest as so to hide herself from his piercing gaze.

His fingertips were quick in clutching her cheeks, raking them into her skin as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Too bad, you need it.”

The fabric was cast at her lap unceremoniously, the soft silky feel cold against her bare thighs.

“Put it on.” The growl was followed by him removing his hand with a push.

She huffed before looking down at the presented article, wondering what Bakugo wanted to dress her up in, her lips forming a disgusted snarl.

“It’s my mother’s.”

The yellow summer-dress, flowy and frilly in texture, something she’d never wear, something Bakugo knew well she would never wear.

“It’d go to waste on her.”

This made her look up, curiosity or maybe even a form of flattery evident in the curl between her brows.

The sudden eye-contact catching Bakugo off guard as he’d shared the uncharacteristically tender opinion of the girl out loud.

He scoffed, crimson eyes darkening in an attempt to hide the building flustered panic, masking it with a growl instead. 

“Put it on, I won’t ask again.”

She fingered the fabric for a while longer before treading it on over her head, letting the skirt dress her thighs with a featherlight fall.

Looking like a spring-daydream, not at all as though she’d just lived through a nightmare.

With her drying hair falling in messy curled tousles down her shoulders, Bakugo reached out a hand to fasten the small wispy strands coming to tickle her forehead behind her ear, grabbing her wrists in favor of her hand when he pulled her up.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand this shithole.”

Wondering if he should have said that he couldn’t stand her in that shithole instead.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE