#by now. that’s the worst fucking part. and also the whole thing of i know how to be suicidal here. i know how to not give a shit about

[nameless-jamie]

Your ff are so adorable! Especially the PA ones 😍😍 Could you write one abou Jamie having to go to practise or sth and so he absentmindedly puts his arm around PA and kisses the top/side of her head and gies without a second thought and she's just dumbfounded. Maybe the Team saw and teases Jamie about it so to proof that it's not a big deal he just continues to do that and PA doesn't know why he does it but she likes it and doesn't stop him and the Team notices that too? Thanks 🤭🤭🤭

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Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: Thank you for all the nice messages guys! I'm okay I guess. my writing is kinda shit but I didn't want to not post. Love ya xo.

TW: cursing, suggestive language/scenes, kissing

Jamie had never been good at keeping secrets—especially when it came to things that made him happy.

And right now, the thing that made him happiest was the fact that he was secretly sleeping with his personal assistant. Yes, Y/N his assistant he's been in love with basically since day one. And now they are a thing—they are something...

Well—okay, it wasn’t just about the sex. Though Jamie would be the first to admit that the sex was fucking incredible. But it was also everything else—the stolen moments, the whispered jokes, the way she looked at him like he was the best thing she’d ever seen, even when he was being an absolute dumbass.

It had been weeks since that first confession, that first kiss, and that first night he’d held her close in his bed, murmuring against her skin, Fuck, I love you. And since then, their relationship had been a secret. Their secret. To the team it was normal that they were together at all times, Y/N was his assistant so it was kind of her job, nut no one had to know that there was more going on behind that...or so Y/N thought.

Which was why it was so fucking annoying that Jamie was the one who nearly blew it—and the worst part? He didn’t even realize it.

It happened on match day.

The Richmond locker room buzzed with energy—the rhythmic stomping of boots, the sound of jerseys being pulled over heads, the usual banter filling the space as everyone geared up. The air smelled of sweat, fresh grass, and the faint sting of muscle rub. Jamie was on autopilot, tying his laces and nodding along to Dani’s enthusiastic rambling. His mind, however, kept drifting—back to Y/N’s smile, the warmth of her skin against his the night before, and the way she’d whispered his name like it was her favorite word.

Then, without thinking, Jamie stood, and walked straight over to Y/N who was focused on her iPad and paperwork, he slung an arm around her shoulders, pulled her into his side, and kissed the top of her head.

Right in front of the entire team.

“See you later, babe,” Jamie murmured, giving her a squeeze before heading toward the tunnel.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the corridor that he realized the locker room had gone dead silent.

“What?” Jamie turned back, confused, only to find every single one of his teammates staring at him like he’d just announced he was quitting football to become a magician.

“Oi.” Isaac raised an eyebrow. “The fuck was that?”

Jamie blinked. “What was what?”

“That,” Sam said, gesturing toward Y/N, who stood frozen in place, eyes wide with shock staring at Jamie.

“What? I was just sayin’ bye to her, like always.”

“Saying bye to your girlfriend, or what?” Colin teased, his smirk spreading. “Mate, we all know you flirt with your Y/N a lot, but that was next-level boyfriend shit.”

“And she let you do that,” Jan added suspiciously. “She never lets you do that.”

Panic sparked in Jamie’s chest. Shit.

Y/N was still standing there, her cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly as if she was trying to process what the fuck had just happened.

And then, because Jamie was a fucking idiot, he shrugged and said, “Nah, mate, that’s just how we are. That's just our relationship, like uhhhm like friends.”

The team exploded.

“Since when?!”

“Oi, have you two actually been shagging this whole time?”

"Jamie, we are friends and you've never kissed me on the head like this!"

“Jamie Tartt, you dog! She your girl now?”

“It’s not even a big deal,” Jamie insisted, though his ears burned. But the warmth in his chest—the memory of Y/N’s soft, startled smile—refused to fade.

“Oh, it’s a big deal,” Sam grinned. “Because she didn’t stop you. That is not Y/N-like.”

Jamie opened his mouth, then shut it.

Shit.

Y/N hadn’t stopped him.

She was still looking at him, no outrage or teasing retort—just that same dumbfounded look, like he was the surprising part, not the team’s reaction.

And that did something to Jamie—something warm and solid that settled right in the center of his chest.

Which was exactly why he did it again.

The next morning, before training, he found her near the pitch, slung an arm around her shoulders, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head before jogging onto the field.

The next day, after a press event, he casually pulled her into a half-hug before walking away.

And the day after that—

“You’re doing it on purpose now,” Y/N accused, arms crossed as she cornered him outside the locker room.

“Dunno what you mean, babe.” Jamie grinned and tugged a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, you do,” she huffed. “You keep touching me in front of everyone!”

“Yeah, and?” Jamie tilted his head, gaze softening. “You gonna stop me?”

Silence. Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it.

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

More silence.

“Shut up,” she muttered, cheeks heating.

His grin widened as he stepped closer, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Didn’t think so.”

By the end of the week, the team was losing their minds.

“Oi, Jamie!” Isaac shouted across the pitch during practice, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Your missus is watchin’! Better go give her a kiss, like you do all the time.”

Jamie didn’t even hesitate. He jogged past Y/N, threw her a quick wink, and called back, “Yeah? She likes what she sees.”

“Jesus Christ,” Colin muttered, shaking his head as Dani and Richard burst into laughter.

Later that day, as Jamie passed the conference room, he overheard Sam and Colin plotting some kind of intervention.

“Do you think he even realizes how obvious they are?”

“He knows,” Sam replied. “He just doesn’t care. And honestly? Respect.”

But Jamie did care.

It wasn’t just about teasing the team or sneaking touches when he could—it was about Y/N. The way she smiled when she thought no one was looking, the way her eyes softened whenever he got close.

Each small gesture felt like a promise: I see you. I choose you. Every single day.

And maybe—just maybe—he was tired of pretending. He wanted them to know. He wanted Y/N to know that he meant it. He wants their relationship. He wants her to be his girlfriend.

The next match day, Y/N stood by the locker room entrance, clipboard in hand, looking as composed as ever. But Jamie caught the way her fingers tapped nervously against the paper, the way her gaze flicked to him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

He noticed.

So this time, when he walked past her, he didn’t just sling an arm around her shoulders.

He stopped.

Turned. Grabbed her head with both hands.

And kissed her.

Properly.

Right there, in front of the whole team, the coaching staff, and probably half the stadium staff.

The locker room erupted in shouts and laughter. Someone whistled. Dani clapped like he’d just watched the greatest love story of all time.

Y/N gasped against Jamie’s lips, her eyes wide as he pulled back, breathless and grinning.

“Jamie—” she started.

“Yeah, babe?”

“You’re such an idiot. I thought we wouldn't tell anyone.”

“I want everyone to know that I'm yours,” Jamie agreed, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek. “I’m your idiot.”

The team hollered.

"Fucking, finally!"

"Yeah about damn time, bruv."

And this time, Y/N didn’t argue.

Instead, she smiled—soft and certain and just a little bit in love.

And Jamie knew, without a doubt, that he’d never keep this secret again.

Not when it felt this good to be hers.

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[hornedavies]

real autism havers when they watch the scottish woman on tv:

[coridallasmultipass]

Halloween costume hint:

(The stitch marker and the word that describes this colour-pattern of yarn [or fabric] are 2 more hints.)

[f1owermoon]

sorry i just. need to rant for a second

[mqonlighting]

real talk in the tags for a second because i have a crush on a girl and i. a hehe. ahehehe.

will be burying this in reblogs and never touching on it again

[fingertipsmp3]

Guess whose home office is finally (pretty much) set up how she wants it 🎉

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[that-sarcastic-writer]

You’ve got my body, flesh and bone

Obsessed!Rafe x nerdy!girl!reader

Summary: something was different about you, and rafe can’t stop thinking about you ever since you came home from college. He knows you want him, too, even if you don’t show it

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, penetrative sex, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), fingering, obsessed behaviors, pervy behaviors (I think?), Rafe is down bad, reader is secretly naughty, dom!rafe, spitting, choking, bit of degradation, Rafe is rough and she likes it.

Wrote this with s2 Rafe in mind but he’s not as psychotic🥰 reader also wears glasses, hope you like being blind

WC: 5.5k I’m so sorry

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE. Anyway I couldn’t help myself. Rafe and Drew are in my mind all day and I need them so bad so I wrote it! I dedicate this to the reason of my insanity @bloodibambiidoll love you doll for feeding me into crash out Rafe😩. This was heavily inspired by her own Rafe fics so def check her out!

Also tagging my other rafe baby @babygorewhore🩷

There weren't a lot of things in this world that Rafe didn’t have. His whole life, anything he wanted, he had, at the palm of his hand. Whatever he wanted, he could do. And he fucking loved it. He didn’t know what it was like to crave something to the point of madness. Until you came around. 

He didn’t know what it was, that feeling deep inside his gut. He didn’t know if it was lust, or desire, or if he truly felt something for you. Perhaps he felt all three. But one thing he knew for certain. If he didn’t have you soon, he was going to cave someone’s face in. It didn’t help that you shot him down every time. The more you ignored him, the more he craved you. Albeit he knew he had a chance in high school and he didn’t take it then. But even he knew he was a prick then. More than he was now, anyway. Deep down he couldn’t blame you for not giving him a chance now, he didn’t want you when you were all quiet and had those ugly glasses, so why should he get you now that you were more confident and stopped giving a fuck what people thought about you? He had to admit, college made you hot as fuck. 

Rafe didn’t know it at first, but the first time he saw you at a party, your hair all pretty, your laugh so contagious he heard it across the room, your clothes hugging every curve of your body perfectly. His jaw fucking dropped. He almost didn’t believe it was you at first. Until he heard whispers about just how fucking hot you had gotten after college. He didn’t know it then, but his sanity was going to go downhill from there. 

That was a month ago, and he still couldn’t get you to give him the light of day. It was almost like you were running away from him, every time. And it pissed him off, really, it did. He craved your attention like he never before. Maybe he was getting soft. Or he was going insane. Either one.

The worst part? 

You were doing it on purpose. 

You caught on pretty quickly. After the first couple of times of catching Rafe blatantly staring at you whenever he saw you, you were curious. It wasn’t entirely outlandish, you were like an exotic animal, having come back to the island after graduating early from university. You didn’t change much, you just learned to manage your social anxiety and started putting more effort into your appearance. You didn’t understand why everyone made such a big deal out of you. But you ignored it for the most part. 

But you couldn’t ignore Rafe. His presence was intoxicating. Even if he didn’t approach you directly. You knew he was there. But you never made an effort to talk to him. You only ever talked to Sarah when you saw her. She was the one that pointed out Rafe in a corner, Topper talking his ear off but Rafe wasn’t paying listening to a word being said, he was looking at you. You, of course, brushed her off with the excuse you gave everyone. 

“He'll get over it, just give it a week.”

He did not, in fact, get over it. 

He thought you didn’t notice, but he followed you on instagram. Of course you noticed. How could you not? Your account was public, but you occasionally looked at who followed you. And the second you saw Rafe fucking Cameron followed you, you almost fainted. Suddenly, the stupid crush you had on Rafe at sixteen came flooding right back. You refused to get your hopes up, but the thought of Rafe quietly stalking your social media never left your mind.

You had no proof, but over the course of a month, you posted on your stories way more than you ever did in college, because you knew Rafe would see them. If you went to a party on Figure 8? Insta story. If you went to the beach? Swimsuit selfies. Felt pretty and did your makeup? Insta story. And what did you notice? Rafe always coincidentally seemed to end up at the exact place you were at. He never came alone, obviously. But he always hung out nearby, always within your line of sight. 

You were driving him mad, certainly. There's no way it was legal for you to wear a swimsuit like that. It actually made his blood boil knowing there were other guys blatantly eye fucking you. Only he should be allowed to do that. He angrily sipped into his cup, silently fuming as he had to stand and simply watch you laugh and run around with your friends, walking past him every time you got drinks for the bar. 

He swore he saw you grin at him one time, a devious and flirty look in your eyes when you made eye contact with him. And he was ready to grab you by the arm and drag you to his car and fuck you right then and there. But he decided against it. Somehow he had enough self control. But it was wearing thin the longer his torture dragged on. 

“Girl, what did you do to Rafe?” Your high school best friend asked you when you came back with your drinks. You frowned, tilting your head innocently. 

“To Rafe? Nothing. I haven’t even talked to him since I came back.” You answered with the truth. Though you purposely ignored what she probably meant. 

“He’s been like glaring at you the whole night. He hasn’t moved from there all night and he’s just looking at you.” She pointed out, more quietly now. And you couldn’t help but subtly shift your eyes in his direction. And indeed, your eyes met with his piercing blue ones. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t race the slightest bit when you caught him looking at you like that. He was looking at you exactly how you desperately wanted him to look at you in high school. 

“No idea what you mean. He’s probably just annoyed I’m hanging out with Sarah and her boyfriend. He probably thinks I’m encouraging her hanging out with the pogues.” You mumbled into your cup, shrugging as you quickly averted your gaze from Rafe. You weren’t sure if you wanted to convince her, or yourself.

“You’re better than me, because if Rafe Cameron looked at me like that I’d be dragging him to my car so fast.” She snorted and you almost choked on your drink. “I think you’re the only girl on this island he hasn’t fucked.” 

“Thank God for that.” You responded a bit too quickly, hoping to hide the slight bit of hurt her words brought to you. You always knew you weren’t good enough for Rafe. You always pretended not to care, but you’d be lying.

You left alone that night. And Rafe couldn’t hold back the urge to follow close behind you. He didn’t know when he got in his car after you. Or when he started driving to your house. Or when he got out of his car. He wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he was going to knock on your door. Or maybe he would. He ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he swept his hair away from his face, exasperated. The very small, but still present, rational side of his mind told him to get the fuck out. And he was going to, until he saw you emerge from your room on the second floor, and you stood right in front of the large window cell. He panicked, running to hide from sight, behind a large tree, but he didn’t leave, he didn’t want to. 

His jaw dropped, his eyes blowing wide open at the sight of you, untying your bikini top and just letting it fall, right then and there. The sight shot straight to his cock. What the fuck were you thinking? What if someone saw you? The thought of you exposing yourself like that made his jaw lock, but his now hard cock in his shorts was much more evident. He couldn’t look away. He was pissed he couldn’t see below your stomach, especially when he saw you crouch as you presumably took off your bottoms, too. 

Rafe almost moaned at the thought. 

And just like that you were gone. And you didn’t come back to the window. It almost felt like the universe was playing a cruel fucking prank on him. Now he had to drive home with an uncomfortable hard on in his shorts. That pissed him off even more.

~~~~~~

This became a habit for Rafe. He would aggressively scroll through your instagram page multiple times a day, hoping that he’d find out where you were for the night. But not in a weird way. He just wanted to see you. But he still hadn’t found the way to get you to talk to him first. He was starting to see the flaw in that plan. But alas, he couldn’t talk to you himself if he didn’t know where to find you. And sometimes, he’d find himself just standing outside your window, hiding behind that same tree. Sometimes you’d sit by the window cell, play around with your hair, sometimes you would read. And sometimes, you’d walk around completely naked, in full view of Rafe. How many times he all but sped home to rub one out was actually embarrassing. 

Rafe was tired of this little game. Though he didn’t quite realize it was a game at all. You had no proof, but you knew. That one time you caught him nearly running back to his car was proof enough for you. So you kept going, until he snapped. You didn’t anticipate just how fast he would break. 

“Guess who showed up.” Your friend whispered in your ear. You casually glanced over your shoulder to find none other than Rafe, with Topper and Kelce right behind him like lost puppies. It had to be criminal how hot this man looked. The polo shirt he wore was hanging on by a thread under his biceps and you had to force yourself to tear your eyes away. 

“Yeah, so? He shows up to every party.” You shrugged, pretending not to catch on to the blatant connection. She rolled her eyes at you. 

“Oh, so he casually shows up to the one party you’ve come to all week? Don’t you think it’s a little odd?”

You shrugged again. You were sure it was a coincidence. Sure it wasn’t because you posted a selfie of your pretty makeup and your pretty dress with the location of the party you got invited to. And surely the way Rafe was staring at you right now had nothing to do with the way your dress accentuated your chest perfectly, showing enough but still leaving some to the imagination. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. 

“Nope. Anyway, want a drink?” You smiled at her innocently, completely ignoring her Rafe interrogation. She shot you a pointed look, surely she would grill you about it later, but she relented nonetheless. 

With a smile you skipped over to the bar, your dress riding up ever so slightly as you leaned over the wooden bar to speak over the loud music. Rafe nearly dropped his beer, his eyes going from your hair down to your ass. He couldn’t take this anymore. 

“Yeah, whatever bro. I’ll be right back.” He cut off Topper as he went on about one thing or another, he didn’t wait for a response and he approached you in long strides. He sniffed softly, running a hand through his hair before opening his mouth. 

You heard your name spoken in a deep voice, with a drink in each hand, you whipped around, not expecting to run straight into a solid, muscled chest. 

“Hey—oh fuck,” Rafe cursed when the drinks you were holding spilled all over his shirt, and over the front of your dress. You gasped loudly, nearly squealing when the ice cubes slipped down your chest. 

“Rafe! What the actual fuck.” You almost screamed at him, desperately attempting to wipe off the alcohol soaking your dress, the front now sticking to your tits. Rafe wanted to say something, maybe apologize, but he was mouth agape at the sight of your soaked chest, it took him a minute to process. 

“Shit, my bad. I didn’t mean to,” he swallowed, his own shirt starting to stick to his chest. Which didn’t slip past  you, even in your anger. But you couldn’t think about that right now. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m sure you totally didn’t want to embarrass me by spilling drinks all over me. Grow the fuck up, Rafe.” You huffed, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. You could feel your face fluster with embarrassment and you had to force yourself not to cry. You had tried so hard to remove yourself from the old you, the one everyone made fun of, the one that got asked out to prom as a prank, the one everyone stared at in disgust. And you felt like that girl all over again. 

Rafe didn’t even have time to argue, you were running off before he could get a word in. He groaned, discomfort settling in from his shirt sticking to his skin. 

“Way to go bro. You didn’t have to embarrass the freakshow like that though.” Rafe sneered in disgust at your high school nickname and he rolled his eyes, shrugging off the casual hand on his shoulder. 

“Shut the fuck up before I shove broken glass down your throat.” 

If there was something in this world that Rafe could never have, it would be patience. And this little game had his sanity wearing very thin. 

He didn’t know exactly when he ended up at your front door, fist pounding loudly as he called your name. His bike was somewhere on the lawn, he didn’t bother to hide it this time. He swore if you didn’t open this door right now he would kick it open. He stepped back, his jaw tight as he waited a few seconds before doing something more drastic. Then, the door swung open. And there you were. 

“I swear to God Rafe.” You sighed loudly, crossing your arms over your now slightly damp chest, having somewhat dried off the front of your dress. Rafe was taken aback by the appearance of your glasses, however. He hadn’t seen you wear them since you came back. Were you always this cute in them? 

No, focus. 

“You didn’t even let me talk back there! I didn’t mean to run into you like that, I swear.” He took a step closer, slightly leaning down to talk close to your face. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyebrows furrowed with mistrust. 

“Oh right, so was it just a coincidence that you were standing right behind me like a wall?” You shot back, shooting him a suspicious look. He rolled his eyes at you, sighing heavily. “If you wanted to look at them better you could’ve just asked! You didn’t have to knock drinks all over my dress.” 

The words left your mouth in a haze. Fast and angrily as you motioned your hands around. You didn’t realize what you said until the look in Rafe’s eyes shifted. Going from confused to downright sinful. He tilted his head at you, crowding your personal space with his big fucking body. You realized then that you really fucked up. 

“What’d you say?” He asked, his voice low as he made you step back into your house. He followed you, his face close to yours and you swallowed. 

“Huh?” Play dumb, sure. 

“Uh-uh, don’t try to be all innocent now. What the fuck did you say?” He repeated, one of his large hands coming up to grip your jaw. You swallowed, your lips pulled into a pout. 

“You really weren’t that sneaky.” You finally admitted, throwing all logic out of the window knowing you both got caught red-handed by the other. Though Rafe didn’t look embarrassed or even remorseful, if anything he looked pleasantly amused. Impressed even. 

“Well, shit.” A grin pulled at his lips as he laughed, a rush of adrenaline flowing through his already amped up body. “You little whore. You were striping in front of your fuckin’ window on purpose, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t know for sure but, I heard your bike a couple of times.” You shrugged, trying to hide the devious smile on your lips. Rafe scoffed humorously, in utter disbelief. “You following me on insta was kind of a given, too.” 

“You are..” He leaned down, his soft lips mere inches away from yours as he blew out a chuckle, “A dirty little slut. You have any fuckin’ idea what you’ve been doin’ to me? Hm?” He squeezed your jaw between his fingers, forcing your head back to make sure your eyes were on him. 

The words that left his mouth made you rub your thighs together, heat forming between them at the thought of being this close to Rafe, knowing he was on the brink of madness, all because of you. You could see it in his eyes, that utter need to fuck you, take you over and over, or else he would go insane. 

“Thought I wasn’t your type.” You shot back, pettiness lacing your tongue. A groan of annoyance rumbled in his chest. 

“I didn’t know I was your type.” 

“You’re everyone’s type, since when are you humble?” You mocked him with a small laugh, but it quickly died in your chest when his fingers fell to your throat, and he dug his fingers with the faintest pressure. You nearly moaned. 

“Well you’re my type right now. Your tits sure fuckin’ are.” He bit his lip softly, making sure his eyes were on yours when he spoke again, “bet your pussy is my type too. Lemme find out, hm?” 

If you weren’t wet before, you sure were now. You nearly moaned out loud, his words alone bending you to his will. Not that it would take much work. 

Rafe didn’t get to say another word, you were pulling him down by the back of his neck and you kissed him, and you kissed him really fucking hard. He liked your intensity. He craved to find out just what else you were hiding behind your innocent and sweet girl facade. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, his fingers lacing into your hair to force your head back for him. And you happily let him. His other hand shamelessly grabbed at your ass, squeezing it as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“My bedroom is—“ you were breathless as you muttered against his lips. Rafe chuckled, cutting you off as he effortlessly hoisted you around his waist. 

“I know where your fuckin’ room is.” Of course he did. 

You giggled as Rafe tossed you on your bed, biting your bottom lip as you watched him pull his polo over his head and your jaw fell wide open at the sight. 

“Dude why are you like, so hot? Fuck.” Your eyes were big as you nearly drooled at the sight of his muscled torso. He was so ripped it was unbelievable. Rafe smirked at you, happy to hear that you were stroking his ego. He quickly joined you in your bed, straddling you as he hovered over you. 

“Yeah?” He leaned down, lips curved up into a grin as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your lips. You nodded as his tongue laced with yours, a string of spit connecting your lips when he pulled back. “You should've just talked to me then. Could’ve had me much sooner. You got any fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you stupid?” 

“How was I supposed to know? You didn’t want me before. I didn’t know.” You pouted, a bit of hurt laced in your voice. He rolled his eyes at you, long fingers coming to squeeze your face. You held your breath as his blue eyes pinned you.

“No, you just wanted to punish me. You wanted to parade yourself around Figure 8 with your pretty little dresses and your innocent little smile. But then at night you’d strip yourself naked in front of your window.” He huffed out the words, frustration coating his tongue. You shrugged. “You wanted to act like a slut, so I’ll fuck you like one. But first, I wanna taste your pussy.” 

The way your body shuddered when Rafe moved down the bed to settle between your legs was embarrassing. You were already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you. You held your breath in anticipation as he reached underneath your dress, tugging your panties down your legs. Rafe grinned at the blue lacy panties that matched your white and navy blue flowy dress. You pretended not to notice him casually shove the lace into his back pocket. 

“Take off your dress. I wanna look at your tits.”  You totally would punch any other man for speaking to you like this, but Rafe? He could speak to you in any way he wanted, especially when he was in between your legs, nearly drooling at the sight of your already soaked cunt. 

You complied, unzipping the side of your dress before pulling it over your head, to reveal that you were indeed not wearing a bra today. Rafe nearly groaned at the sight. 

“Fuck baby. You’re such a slut, did you plan this?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were replaced by a gasp when he dipped his head and licked a stripe between your folds without a single warning. 

It was actually embarrassing how quickly you were falling apart. You were a sobbing shaking mess as soon as he started to circle his tongue around your clit, sloppy sounds leaving his mouth as he moved his head up and down. Rafe was enjoying this as much as you were, how many times he fantasized about shoving his tongue into your cunt, what you would taste like, how you would sound like for him. It was driving him insane. He was groaning and moaning as he lapped at your soaking cunt. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good baby. You got any idea how many times I went home to rub one out thinkin’ about your pussy?” He groaned, spitting on your clit as he looked up at you, catching the way your back arched off the bed as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Should’ve just taken you. You would’ve let me, right doll? If I slipped in through your window and fucked this sweet little pussy in the middle of the night, wouldn’t even care as long as you got some dick, right?” 

His words slipped past you, only the feeling of his tongue back on your clit. You couldn’t think straight, your pussy was pulsing, it just felt so good, you didn’t remember the last time a man ate you like this, with such intensity and fervor. Rafe looked up at you again, amused by the way you squirmed and writhed on the bed. With a grin, he wrapped both arms under your knees and folded them damn near against your chest, spreading you open for him. And you couldn’t run away either. 

“I asked you a question.” He spat into your clit again, this time watching as the string of saliva ran down your clit before licking it. 

“Ah! Rafe! Fuck—y-yes! You can do whatever you want to me!” You sputtered, your voice breaking into a cry when he slipped his tongue into your hole. His nose bumped your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and you were nearly digging your nails into his scalp as you clutched his hair. You wanted to come so bad. “Please Rafe. I’m gonna come.” 

Rafe groaned into your pussy at your words. His tongue was replaced by two thick fingers and he curled them perfectly, enough to have you thanking the Gods for having your own house separate from your parents' main house. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. You look so pretty begging me to let you come. Say it again, say it again just like that f’me.” His eyes never left you as his tongue was back on your clit, his fingers slipping and curling inside your throbbing cunt in the most delicious way possible. You couldn’t even form a thought, let alone a sentence. You sobbed, your pussy pulsing around his thick fingers. 

“Please Rafe! Wanna come!” You didn’t have to say it twice, the second Rafe hummed at you, his tongue lapping at your swollen clit as his fingers fucked you raw, you were over. You were a shaking mess as you came, all you could do was gasp and cry as his fingers fucked you through your orgasm, and he happily continued to basically make out with your cunt.

“That was so fuckin’ good baby. You were so good f’me.” He grunted into your thigh as he lazily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Your eyes were screwed shut, heaving as you were still jolting from the aftershock. When you opened your eyes again you found Rafe already hovering above you, his blue eyes staring down at you with devious intentions. 

“You totally look so fuckin’ hot with those glasses. You should like suck my dick with them on.” You blinked at him, mouth slightly open which made him grin at you. “Not right now, I wanna be inside you now.” 

Rafe didn’t waste any fucking time in pressing your knees to your chest, your glistening pussy on full display and ready for his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy like I fuckin’ own it.” He spat, his jaw slightly falling open as he slipped into you. Your eyes rolled back almost instantly, the feeling of his cock stretching you was better than you could have ever imagined. He was so fucking big, too. “All these fuckin’ assholes lookin’ at you and I’m the only one that gets to fill this pussy, you got that?” 

You nodded harshly as he bottomed out, and without a warning he pulled out only to slam back into you, his cock damn near splitting you open. You threw your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing around his hair as he slammed into you, filling you deeper than anyone ever has before. 

“Just you Rafe! It’s always been you!” You grabbed his face, pulling him into a messy kiss. Your words made his cock twitch and all he wanted right then and there was to keep you here, beneath him, stuffed with his cock and never let you leave. 

“Why didn’t you come back sooner, huh? This pussy is so perfect, so tight. Just f’me. Want you all the fuckin’ time baby.” He grunted into your mouth, both arms caging you in as he drilled into you, his cock so deep you could almost feel him in your fucking guts. 

A string of pathetic sounds, a string of uh-uh-uh’s left your lips as he damn near folded you in half, your cute nails dragging down his back, surely to leave red angry marks. Rafe grunted in delight, his large hand coming to grab your throat. He definitely didn’t miss the way you pussy clenched around him then. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot, yknow that? Such a pretty little slut f’me. You’re gonna let me use you, hm? Do whatever I want with you?” He squeezed your throat, forcing your head up and down in a ‘yes’ gesture and you moaned, eyes screwed shut. “Mhmm, exactly. Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 

The sound that left your throat was so pathetic Rafe laughed. You did as you were told, opening your eyes as you opened your mouth, you watched him with glazed eyes as he leaned down and spat straight into your mouth. He watched you jaw slacked as you happily swallowed, feeling the bump under his fingers. 

“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I love it.” He leaned down again, his fingers tightening around your throat as he spat into your mouth again, but this time he kissed you, it was so messy and sloppy and you fucking loved it. “Act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.” 

“Mhmm yes! I’m such a slut, just for you.” You choked out, your throat raw and sore from the grip he had on it. He shuddered at your words, his cock twitching as he dropped his free hand to rub harsh circles around your clit. Your eyes rolled so far back you actually looked like you were spasming. “O-oh god. I’m gonna come—! Please Rafe—!” 

“Ohh, feels so good, doesn’t it baby? You wanna gush all over my dick huh?” He spoke right into your cheek, his sweaty cheek pressed right against yours as he held you by your throat, your glasses getting squished by him and you were praying to the Gods that he didn’t end up breaking them. 

“Please, please, please Rafe!” You sobbed, your soaked cunt pulsing around his cock, your thighs sore and shaking as you hanged on by a thread, so close to reaching your limit. 

“That’s it doll, squeeze the fuck out of me, come all over my cock, just like that.” He rubbed your clit and drilled into your already abused hole until you were gushing, you whole body shaking as you fell into a fit of sobs. Rafe wasn’t one to come just like that, but the sight of you so utterly fucked out and sobbing almost made him spill right then and there. 

“Ah! Rafe!” You whined as he kept fucking you, his rough hips and harsh pace not once slowing down, driving you to the point of overstimulation. You squirmed, almost as if you wanted to run away from him. He tisked at you, releasing your throat to grab your arm, holding you down as he gripped the headboard with the other, damn near crushing you with his big fucking body. 

“Oh, where the fuck are you going, huh? Who said you could run away? Nah, you wanted it, so now you take it like a good girl.” He reveled in the way you took his cock, jaw agape, eyes screwed shut and forehead screwed into a frown of pleasure. 

You were practically done for when he carelessly shoved your face to the side, damn near knocking your glasses off your face. His lips sucked marks on your neck as your pussy convulsed around his cock for the second time. Your head was spinning so hard and your vision was so blurry, you didn’t even know what planet you were on.

“Hmph! Rafe!” You yelped but he cut you off, a particularly sharp thrust making you slide up the mattress. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna fill you. Gonna ruin every other man for you.” He spat, his voice raspy and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he chased his high. 

“Please Rafe, give it to me. Want it so bad!” Well that fucking did it. A moan rumbled in Rafe’s throat as he spilled himself inside you. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth hung wide open. He snapped his hips, one, two more times before he sat still with a long breath. 

You laid speechless, blinking softly as you tried to slow your racing heart, and process that this actually happened. Sixteen year-old you would totally freak out. Rafe Cameron just fucked the life out of you. Rafe was looking down at you with a pussy-drunk look, his eyes slightly closed and his lips were parted. Not that you could see him that well. Your glasses were so smudged and foggy all you could see was blurry shapes. 

“I just fucked you dumb and you’re making that face?” Rafe narrowed his eyes at you as leaned on his forearms, holding up his weight as your legs fell to either side of him. You frowned at him, confused. 

“What face?”

“You’re pouting and shit.” He smirked, squeezing your face between his fingers and you shot him a pointed look, groaning. 

“I forgot to take off my glasses. They’re all dirty now. Can’t see shit.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your face away from his grip as you took your glasses off and tossed them on your nightstand. 

“Well you looked cute and shit so. You’re fine.” He pressed a kiss to your pouty lips before laying down beside you, the feeling of your mixed release making you hiss softly. 

Rafe lied with an arm behind his head and he couldn’t help but grin when he caught you looking at him with your lip pulled between your teeth. He nudged you over with his head and you happily settled underneath his arm with your head resting on his chest. You didn’t take him for a cuddling type but you’d happily take this.

You sighed heavily, just wanting to rest your sore muscles for a bit when you heard him speak again. 

“So are you gonna follow me back on insta now or what?” 

[kacchans-waifu]

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL — the pro-hero, dynamite, is forced on a date with some ceo's daughter. except, it's just you and your best friend doing your absolute best to scare him away.

word count: 2.4k

cw: suggestive, fluff, not proofread

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite literally a year. i decided to rewatch the drama and omggggg i still love it. i might make a part two bc this was kinda fun to write.

requests

pro-hero, katsuki bakugou, was rapidly climbing the hero ranks the moment he graduated high school. by the time he was 23, he was already one of japan’s top heroes. he had been working his ass off, spending countless hours training and fighting for the dream he had worked for since he was a child, and all of his hard work had finally come to fruition.

unfortunately, there was one thing he didn’t have.

“you need to get a girlfriend, katsuki.”

the blond found himself now trapped in another dreadful conversation with his mother. for the past year, his mother had been pestering him about finding a partner and it made him want to tear his hair out. he groaned as he did his best to tune her out.

“i’m being serious, katsuki,” she pestered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “we’re both getting older and I want grandbabies.”

“you’re not getting any fucking grandbabies if you keep fucking bothering me about it,” the man huffed. “i don’t know why you care so much about me fucking some chick. it’s creepy.”

mitsuki scoffed. “well, sorry I don’t want to you die alone and unhappy.”

those words still ricocheted in his head as he shuffled through paperwork a few weeks later. die alone, he thought. like hell, I need some woman and kid slowing me down.

there was a soft knock on the door of his office followed by the calm voice of his assistant. “mr. bakugou?”

“open,” he responded, not looking up from the papers.

his assistant walked in, closing the door behind him. “todoroki’s agency wanted to ask how the paperwork is coming along.”

“tell him to leave me alone.”

the still unnamed assistant checked his watch, huffing. “sir—” he leaned forward, the tablet in his hand now curled up near his chest— “have you called your mother at all today?”

katsuki raised his eyes, immediately suspicious. “why?”

“yes or no, sir?”

he sighed. “no, I have not.”

“that explains it,” the assistant muttered, leaning back. “she wanted me to tell you that she-”

“KATSUKI!” like clockwork, mitsuki stormed through the double doors of katsuki’s office. the man swore under his breath. the assistant stood aside as the older woman made her way to her son’s desk. “I have incredible news for you!~”

he place the papers on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose, anticipating the worst. “oh boy, I wonder what it could be,” he spoke, sarcasm lacing his jaded voice.

“curb your enthusiasm, buddy.” mitsuki stood tall. “the ceo of XXXXX has agreed to a blind date with his daughter!” she did jazz hands to emphasize it.

katsuki froze. “sorry?”

“you’re going on a blind date with the ceo’s daughter.” she did the jazz hands again.

“are you fucking kidding me?!” katsuki began to raise his voice, evidently pissed off. “you went and set up some blind date with a random woman because you want some fucking grandkids!?”

“I fail to see the issue katsuki.”

“well, there’s fucking plenty!”

“listen, and listen well; you’re going to find a woman to settle down with whether you like it or not, katsuki. plus, wouldn’t marrying into a ceo’s family be good for business?”

“this is fucking ridiculous.” the man stood up and was ready to leave. “it’s not happening. i’m busy all this month.”

“not anymore!~” mitsuki had the biggest shit-eating grin the man had ever seen.

katsuki looked over at his assistant, eyebrow cocked. “that’s what I was trying to tell you, sir, before she…” he shifted his gaze to the older woman “…before she walked in.”

“i also had him clear your schedule.” she chimed in.

katsuki huffed, wanting the world to swallow him whole.

~

“another one? did he forget every other date you’ve gone on?”

your friend had invited you to a nice debrief at the cafe you two had been eyeing for a while. being from a wealthy business family, it was common place for her parents to try and marry her off, but your friend would rather eat lead than have anything to do with this.

your friend huffed, crossing her arms as she looked out at the nearby street. “that’s what I’m saying.”

“and you literally have no idea who this dude could be?”

“well, it is a blind date after all.” she looked back at you, hands now on the table. “but he knows I don’t wanna be set up with some dude just because he’s rich. I only plan to marry for love.” she waved her hands in a rainbow motion on the word “love” to really get the point home.

you took a sip from your drink. “your dad, yeah. doesn’t he know we’re just gonna scare him away again?”

she raised her coffee cup to her lip, chuckling a bit. memories of your two’s shenanigans flooding her mind. “should we do that again?”

“is that even a question,” you grinned.

~

you and your friend had planned for you to go on the date instead. you’d be dressed neatly in expensive clothing borrowed from your friend. she gave you a cute makeup look to make you look expensive and a pretty wig with scarily realistic hair.

the plan was simple:

be as unappealing as possible.

you sat down and waited for your friend’s date to show up. as you waited, you did your best to calm your nerves and fix your makeup a bit. after a few minutes of waiting, a deep voice spoke from behind you.

“you XXXX XXXXXXXXX?”

startled, the compact mirror in your hand shook. you turned around and began to shake even more. the man your friend had been set up with, the man you are about to scare off, the man standing in front of you right now was absolutely, unbelievably attractive. what was his name again?

katsuki bakugou.

katsuki saw your eyes widen for a moment and was about to leave, a bit worried that you were the wrong person.

“yes,” you answered, voice a bit meeker than you had hoped. not only was he undeniably attractive, but he looked oddly familiar. was he some kind of model or actor? “take a seat.” you gestured to the seat across from you.

the blond sat down, visibly uninterested. you, on the other hand, were doing your absolute best to calm your nerves, hands trembling a bit as you raised your water glass to your lips. you took a deep breath. you were determined to make this date fail.

thus began tactic number one.

you let out a deep sigh, drawing katsuki’s attention. “it’s warm in here, isn’t it,” you asked smugly, carefully peeling your jacket off. the dress you were wearing underneath was sleeveless and showed off your shoulders and collarbone. it was far from warm in the restaurant you two sat in, but you were without a doubt going to pretend you were burning up.

no one likes a woman that shows too much skin.

katsuki didn’t even bother with a verbal response. instead, he just cocked an eyebrow. he examined you as you practically flaunted your arms and noticed goosebumps painting the exposed skin. “you have goosebumps.”

crap.

you chuckled, fixing your hair. “i just get goosebumps a lot.”

time for the next strategy.

you kicked your foot against the table. you fake winced, saying a sweet “sorry” as you pulled your leg back. your voice then switched to a high-pitched baby voice as you cooed at your expensive heels, gently brushing them. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” you then turned your attention to the equally expensive clutch near you. “oh, did you get scared, baby?” you continued cooing and kissing your clutch.

a woman crazy about luxury goods. how’s that for a turn-off?

you looked away from the clutch and watched as katsuki typed away on his phone.

was your performance not worth watching?

“what are you doing?”

katsuki’s head darted up before he sheepishly tucked his phone away. “a text from work. sorry.”

this won’t do. on to my last resort.

“I’m so sad,” you blurted out.

“what?”

you crossed your arms, huffing. “I’m so sad. you seem so uninterested in me.” you pouted. “it’s making samantha and rachel very sad.”

the blond’s brows furrowed as he took a sip out of his cup. “samantha and rachel?”

you smirked, holding the sides of the table so your chest was open. “the left one is samantha. right is rachel. i spent a wopping half a million a piece on these babies.”

he nearly choked on his water, coughing as he placed it back on the table. you did your absolute best to not break character. you giggled, leaning back in your seat. “i’m rambling, aren’t i?”

one could say this was your best performance. there was no way in hell that he was going to ask for a second date.

—

“HE ASKED FOR A SECOND DATE?!”

you sat with your head in your hands across from your friend. “I did my best, I swear.”

“if you did your best then why am I going on a second date with him,” she asked, practically crushing her cup.

“he was very persistent, in my defense.”

your friend sighed lowly. “jeez, I guess I’ll have to go and scare him away myself.”

“how,” you asked, lazily looking back up her. “he thinks you look like me.”

“well, i don’t want to see him anymore regardless, so him finding out you’re not the real me should only drive him further, yeah?” your friend feigned calmness as she said that, but you could tell that she was thoroughly irritated. you watched as coffee leaked from under her lid and onto her fingers. she was no indeed crushing the cup.

sheepishly you offered, “I’ll buy you a new drink.”

—

“you want to…meet her again?”

katsuki decided to visit izuku on his lunch break. they were in a nearby cafe, casually debriefing about how their days had been going. izuku, like most of katsuki’s friends, had long known of his mother’s desire for her son to get married and have kids. katsuki had told izuku about the date his mom had set him up on, complaining about how that “old hag”, in his words, had no respect for his boundaries and was weirdly obsessed with him getting hitched off. so izuku was very surprised to hear that the dreaded date went well.

“yeah,” he admitted, digging his fork into his pasta. “I mean, she didn’t seem half bad.” he looked back up at izuku, who held a stunned expression. “quit looking at me like that.”

“sorry, I just didn’t expect for it to have gone so well. she must be a real catch.”

katsuki thought back to what you considered a disaster of a date. it had been so long since he’d met such a straightforward woman. you came across as so honest, so genuine. he…liked that about you. and sure, you were pretty and wealthy, but things like that meant nothing to him. he’d be a liar if he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you on the drive back to his apartment. “i guess so.”

suddenly, there was a loud crash outside followed by a scream. the two men perked up, both now looking out the window. a villain attack?

at the sound of another crash, they dove out of the cafe and onto the street to be met with what they expected. what katsuki didn’t expect was to see was a woman that looked suspiciously familiar.

you had somehow ended up in the middle of the crossfire of this low-ranking villain’s attack. if a hero hadn’t saved you just in time, you would’ve gotten seriously hurt. unfortunately, the moment you got a good look at the hero that saved you, you realized why the man your friend was set up with looked so familiar.

you had gone on a date with the top hero, dynamite.

the two of you stared at each other, face inches apart. katsuki examined your face. he could barely believe it. here you were, standing right in front of him, and he had just saved your life. now would be a bad time to ask you on a second date, right?

“you’re the…”

quickly, you backed away and bowed. “t-thank you so much!” you tried to run away, face burning with anxiety, but his large hand instinctually grabbed your wrist.

“wait a second, how the hell did you get yourself caught up in a villain attack?”

“it was an accident, really,” you said as you attempted to wiggle yourself out of his grip.

“y/n, are you okay,” you friend asked, running up to you. she had gotten separated from you when the attack started. however, she halted the moment she saw katsuki right next to you. “oh no..”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “y/n?” that’s not your name, he thought. his grip loosened just enough for you to release yourself.

your heart was racing. katsuki, decked out in his signature costume, looked at you with the most perplexed expression you had ever seen. you jogged up to your friend, trying to push her away. “XXXX, we should go,” you muttered.

“hey,” katsuki called out. “you just got attacked by a villain.”

“we’re just fine,” you friend responded.

“i was telling her, not you.” he didn’t want to believe it, but the name your friend called you rang through his head like bullets. it couldn’t have been a nickname. it sounded nothing like the name he knew you as. could it really be…

“let me walk you to the police station, y/n. i have a lot to ask you.”

[thefirstknife]

Exceptional tags. Immaculate.

The "Infinity War" shit has been my biggest pet peeve FOR REAL, thank you for mentioning that. Bungie NEVER mentioned Infinity War as an inspiration for Lightfall. This was invented by fans, mostly on twitter, and it was parroted the most by Destiny Bulletin and similar "outlets" that are just straight up often posting the most randomest shit. And then everyone started saying that Lightfall "did its Infinity War moment badly." They never tried having an Infinity War moment.

For the record, devs mentioned a lot of movie inspirations for Lightfall in an interview and Infinity War was not one of them, because it wasn't an inspiration and Lightfall was not meant to be a shitty MCU copy.

"As we started getting towards Lightfall, we said, 'Hey, how can we keep the stakes high but change the mood for a release?'" Blackburn continued. "We looked at things like The Empire Strikes Back, that has a feeling of, oh, my gosh, [the heroes] lose, but the movie doesn't feel like they lose the whole time. We started to look at, okay, what are things with really high stakes that have a different tone to them? I think we got really attracted to sort of blockbuster action movies. "You can look at things like Aliens. You can look at things like Commando. You can look at things like The Old Guard and you can say, these have a specific feel throughout them, but they don't sacrifice that, like, hey, the world is at stake. Independence Day is another one that we really like. It's like, oh, my God, watch the trailer for Independence Day. You're like, 'This is going to be a hell of a movie. The Earth's going to get destroyed.' Then you get in the theater and Will Smith's like, 'Welcome to Earth.' You're like, 'Oh, it's this kind of movie.'"

As someone old enough to have grown up on these movies: they nailed this perfectly. I get so mad when people go for the god damn Infinity War about Lightfall. Literally never even remotely been a thing devs used to make Lightfall. Fans invented it because they haven't seen a single movie outside of the MCU.

if Lightfall has million number of enjoyers, I'm one of them. if Lightfall has ten enjoyers, I'm one of them. if Lightfall has one enjoyer, and that is me.

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master List

The Worst Morning Of Your Life (so far)

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you. 

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here." 

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

-

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. You’re hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.”

-

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you. 

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That is all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, cumminng hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down. 

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started.

_

alright folks, I've got a sequel in the works but can't decide on the vibes (there'll be smut regardless): READ PART 2 HERE

[curlyflesh]

symbolism - POLLE

a mutual of mine pointed out that polle & anya’s text colors are the same, if not similar shades of blue. while we know that the anya symbolism we got during jimmy’s ‘purgatory’ hallucinations was the womb/pony centipede, the final polle scene at the top of the mouthwash hill could be one too

at first, i thought polle might have represented a godly figure that will pass judgment (considering polle is the mascot for the corporation), but i think she could also represent a fragment of anya that jimmy neglected, a part of her he didn’t hurt…

i know people have observed that through jimmy’s eyes, anya switches the way she talks to him since he’s her abuser. she cheers him on when he accomplishes something, she shrinks when he gets upset. at first she’s very enthusiastic and sweet, but then she becomes insecure and apologetic

so i’m like …. maybe the final polle hallucination is a part of anya that reflects who she truly is, someone who is wise cunning and self-assured, like her last moments when she is a door away from him,, she uses the rest of her strength to choose her own ending, albeit painful

polle is passing judgment now because anya didn’t get to. this is a parallel to the psych eval that anya didn’t want to perform with jimmy and not to mention the whole cartoon horse sexual fantasy thing …. it connects to this so ironically in an awful way. the pony baby, polle as anya…

“why are you still so concerned with him?”

this is probably one of my favorite lines of the game. after every purgatory scene he fails to take responsibility for the crew. after his epiphany/breakdown in front of curly, he misuses anya’s words to apologize to curly only. but polle knows damn well failing curly wasn’t his worst moment. why does polle know? yeah.

it makes the ending of the game even more fucked up. the fact that that was jimmy’s last chance to feel guilt, after the womb scene And the ID hallway where he doesn’t even conjure up her face but he continued to completely disregard her in yet Another dehumanizing form, as the pony express mascot.

i’m sure there’s even more to consider (like the very first scene where jimmy crashes the ship and sees polle), but yeah that’s all i got for now! check out my blog for even more analyses :)

[thebibliosphere]

Ma'am/Sir/Other

So much of your blog is "Yaya another thing in my body broke (kill me)"

I'm not judging at all, cause I'm also dealing with that somewhat but,

In the most polite manner possible;

How the fuck do you manage to function without killing everyone around you in a bodily pain induced rage.

Body hurts too much.

But in all seriousness, therapy and a whole lot of radical acceptance.

I don't approve or like what’s happening to me, but realistically, there is no way to avoid it, so I either have to accept it and make changes to my life or reject it and increase my suffering.

It might take me a while to process this change and there might be a few screaming breakdowns in the interim (”it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!”) but after a long time of doing this type of therapy, I’ve gotten good at holding my own hand and holding myself through the despair.

It’s a bit like being my own gentle parent. Like “hey bud, I know this sucks and you’re feeling a lot of big emotions right now. And I’m not asking you to stop feeling them, but I do need you to eat and drink before you get sick, okay? Okay, you’ve had some water, do you want to try for a shower? No? Okay, let’s go back to bed for a bit. We’ll try later... Cry it out if you need to. I’ve got you.”

Probably sounds bonkers to some people but it's the only reason I’m still alive.

My support network is wonderful and they do so much to keep me going, but it wasn't until I allowed myself to feel my emotions and self soothe through them that things got better.

I can’t change what has been done to me. I can’t change the dynamic nature of my disabilities or the fact that parts of my body will continue to break down. But I can accept myself and say, this is the way things are: react accordingly for our continued survival.

Radical acceptance isn’t about approval or giving up. It's a stress tolerance skill that lets you look at some of the worst parts of your life and go “fuck this sucks. Okay, how do I make this suck less?” and then following through on it.

It's a skill that takes a long time to build. But it's well worth investing in.

[bramblebeau]

Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.