#i'm not SUPER annoyed by it but i Could Be if i think about it too much

[myotherblogforrin]

Messed Up

Warning: Swearing. Original title was "Fucked Up", but it felt too vulgar. All sexual innuendo, courtesy of Shidou.

**Note: I will default to physio therapist in my BLLK writing quite a lot. I'm a bit lazy and I don't ever want to flesh out the reader too much for obvious reasons. The job is just a link to the characters.**

Rin was looking anywhere but down. With you kneeling in front of him your soft skin moving against his as you wrapped his ankle it was difficult not to blush.

Rin liked you and everyday he seemed to become more awkward about it. So, he avoided you when he could. Today though the primary physio therapist was late. That left you or the beefy trainer to wrap his ankle.

"Itoshi, does this feel okay?" You asked, your eyes locking with his.

Rin felt his face flush under your direct attention.

"Yeah, it's fine. Are you done?"

You ignored Rin's dismissive tone and stood up before stepping back. Whatever it was about you that annoyed him, he was always in a rush to get away.

"Yeah."

This time though you walked away, leaving Rin confused as he stood up. Suddenly his plan to keep you at a distance sucked. Rin didn't want you walking away from him. He especially didn't want you hanging around the other players.

Gritting his teeth he watched as Shidou gently pulled your hair back into a ponytail for you.

It figured that Shidou would get the attention of the only two people Rin cared about. But now that Shidou was making moves, Rin was determined not to lose.

You were leaving for the night, Shidou instep beside you.

"I like 'em fucked up, sweetheart."

"I don't think Rin is fucked up. I think he's scared to let people in because they might leave."

"That's not fucked up? Hmm. You really are too kind. It's gonna get ya hurt, babe," Shidou knocked his shoulder into you.

"Maybe. Do you know what Sae did?"

"Besides leavin'? Nah. Don't think it really matters. That guy is super fucked. Just the way I want him."

You laughed and shook your head as you got ready to part ways. Shidou stopped at his flashy car unlocking it.

"See ya," you waved.

"Sure ya don't want a ride? I'll drive safe just for you," Shidou winked.

"Afraid of what it'll cost me," you teased.

"Fair point, but I'll give ya a discount," Shidou smirked.

It was impossible for him not to tease you. Like Sae, there was something about you that tamed him enough to be almost normal. But only in your presence.

"I'm good. Thanks!"

You waved again and started down the street. You had a car, but your apartment was only a few blocks away. The sun was setting, but it wasn't dark.

"L/N!"

"Itoshi! Why aren't you getting a ride home?" You demanded.

"I...uh...do you want to get dinner?"

Rin couldn't even look at you, a slight blush on his cheeks, but you didn't notice.

"Dinner? Oh, did you want to talk about your rehab plan? Because honestly it's only a couple weeks. Nothing can be done to shorten it."

Working with athletes, you were used to them trying to get back to playing ASAP. Always trying to bribe you, persuade you, or negotiate. You never budged and you weren't about to start.

"No. Just dinner."

You eyed him suspiciously.

"Okay, but I'm not adjusting your rehab. It's two weeks. No discussion."

[insomniac4000]

I love ur Chris fics!!

Pretty please can I have one of him being all nervous on a first date and trying to impress her and he thinks its gone badly but she texts him the next day and hes like all surprised? Thx

Thank you so much! :)

Here we go

Chris would be the first person to tell you he was no good at dating, he knew deep down that he was the main reason why a lot of his dates failed, he wanted to find love so badly but he was just… bad at it. Still he was a romantic at heart so he persisted with the apps, he had to believe the right person was still out there. He stared at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard as he reread the last message from Y/N. They had been exchanging texts for days, a steady back-and-forth of witty banter and playful teasing. She was funny, quick with her comebacks, and surprisingly unimpressed by his YouTube career, which he found both refreshing and terrifying.

His stomach twisted with nerves as he typed, "How about drinks tomorrow? 7 PM?" and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

Seconds later, the three little dots appeared. "Sounds good! See you then :)"

Chris exhaled. He was actually doing this.

The next evening, he arrived at the bar five minutes early, bouncing on the balls of his feet outside before forcing himself in. The low hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filled the space as he took a deep breath, scanning the room. Then he saw her.

Y/N was already at a table, scrolling on her phone. She looked up, met his gaze, and smiled. Chris felt his pulse speed up.

"Hey!" he greeted, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as he slid into the seat opposite her.

"Hey yourself," she replied with an amused smirk. "Early bird?"

"Oh, you know, just being punctual. Super responsible and all that," he said, reaching for the drink menu to hide his nerves.

They ordered their drinks, and as soon as they arrived, Chris took a deep breath. He wanted to be charming. He wanted to be cool. Instead, his mouth ran away from him, she asked him about his job and his mouth just went to overdrive,

"So, uh, yeah, football. It’s kind of my thing. I mean, not like pro-level, but I’m not bad. Actually, I’ve not long played at Wembley and honestly, it was insane. Scoring in front of 90,000 people in the UK’s most iconic pitch I mean come on. People were saying I could’ve gone pro if I hadn’t done YouTube. Well, maybe not pro, but, you know, pretty close…"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, sipping her drink. Chris caught himself rambling but couldn't seem to stop. "And, oh! There was this challenge video where I hit the crossbar from, like, halfway down the pitch. First try. Not saying I’m a genius, but…"

He trailed off, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. Y/N was still watching him, her expression unreadable. Was she bored? Annoyed? He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I—uh—I talk a lot when I'm nervous."

Y/N tilted her head. "You nervous?" she teased. "I never would've guessed."

Chris laughed, a little too loudly, and went to take a sip of his drink. Except his grip fumbled, and suddenly, the glass wobbled precariously. He lunged to steady it, knocking against the table in the process. A bit of liquid sloshed over the rim.

"Smooth," Y/N said, her lips twitching.

"I swear, I’m not usually this much of a mess," Chris groaned, setting the glass down carefully.

"You sure? Because I feel like you might have a whole highlight reel of awkward moments."

Chris buried his face in his hands. "You have no idea."

Surprisingly, Y/N just laughed. Not in a mocking way, but in a genuinely entertained way. He peered at her from behind his fingers.

"So, you’re saying if I Google 'ChrisMD awkward moments,' I’m in for a treat?"

Chris groaned. "Please don’t. The internet never forgets."

Y/N grinned. "Noted."

Trying to steer the conversation somewhere else, Chris found himself talking about the footballers he’d met and worked with. "It’s mad, really. I’ve played in videos with some proper legends—like I once did a challenge with Eden Hazard. Absolute wizard with the ball. And then there was Bukayo Saka—genuinely one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet."

"That’s cool," Y/N said, seeming actually interested. "Do they ever give you tips?"

"Oh yeah. Some of them take it really seriously. I’ve filmed with Ronaldo too.

Y/N laughed. “Did you stumble this much with him too?” She asked, Chris laughed.

"Harsh but fair."

Chris could tell she was genuinely enjoying the stories, which made him feel slightly less like an idiot. The rest of the night went… not terribly. He still overtalked a little, still tripped over a few words, but somewhere in the midst of it, the nerves settled. Y/N was easy to talk to. She had stories of her own—about her terrible first job, the time she accidentally walked into a glass door in front of a packed restaurant, and her unexpected obsession with obscure trivia. Chris found himself genuinely laughing, which was a relief.

By the end of the night, they walked out together. "Well, thanks for, uh, tolerating my Ted Talk on my football greatness," Chris joked, scratching the back of his neck.

Y/N smirked. "I’ll be honest, I was expecting more of a sales pitch. 'Date me, and you get exclusive football lessons from a YouTube icon.'"

Chris groaned. "Great, next time I’ll bring a PowerPoint."

She chuckled. "Next time, huh?"

His heart stuttered. "I mean—if you want?"

Y/N just smiled. "Goodnight, Chris."

As she walked away, Chris started heading home, shoving his hands into his pockets. He replayed the night in his head and immediately winced. "Idiot. Absolute idiot. Why did I have to go on about Hazard and Saka? She probably thinks I’m a name-dropper. And the drink? Nearly spilling it like some nervous schoolboy? Brilliant, Chris. Just brilliant."

He kicked a stray stone down the pavement. "You had one job—be normal. And what did you do? Talk about your football achievements like you were on a press tour. I sounded like an overexcited fanboy listing my favourite players."

He groaned, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky. "She’s never texting me again. No chance. She probably thinks I talk about myself too much, and to be fair, she’d be right."

By the time he got home, he had convinced himself she wasn’t going to text him again. He flopped onto his bed with a groan, already bracing for the ghosting.

Then, his phone buzzed.

Y/N: Last night was fun. You free this weekend?

Chris blinked at the screen. He hadn’t ruined it? A grin stretched across his face as he quickly typed back.

Chris: Definitely. Let me know when.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad at this dating thing as he thought.

[rafesbbyy]

I am barking right now. Screaming. Crying. Throwing up. This is going to be very long because I cannot stop about how much I love this.

Your favorite flowers sit in a vase on the marble countertop. A book you once mentioned offhandedly rests on the nightstand in the master bedroom. A closet full of designer dresses in your size hangs neatly beside rows of shoes and handbags.

HELLO?? This is actually insane. You know how I said Rafe didn't really care about her or something?? Well I take it back because this man clearly listens to her!! I was expecting him to want things to be his way even in this new house of theirs. But I'm so glad to see him recognizing some level of individuality in reader. To be seen is to be heard, or how ever the quote goes. Like it's literally so sweet of him to remember her fav flowers and book?? (maybe the bar is on the floor but this is the same man who was a lil cold and uncaring just a few chapters before!!) Also, the closet full of designer clothes?? MEOWWWW. Can I pls live readers life??? Rafe could tell me to bark and I would if it meant I'd be getting a closet full of rich shit.

The words are shaky, written in a child's uneven scrawl. They tell a story of loneliness, of always being second place.

Can you hear me crying??? You did not have to break my heart like that babe 💔💔💔

"She’s not naive," Rafe says, his voice even but firm. His arm drapes over the back of your chair, a casual but unmistakable show of possession. "She just grew up with people who never listened to her."

I have never been more turned on in my life. I have to keep reminding myself that this man isn't real. I'm so glad he stood up for her like as he should honestly!! Fucking finally!! Its the way he was exerting dominance in this scene tho—like yes pop off king!! Him saying what needed to be said in one simple sentence—OOOFFF I AM DYING. We love a protective man💗💗Lets hope now his ass can also stand up to his friends smh.

For once, someone stood up for you.

I am CRYING. She's way too sweet for Rafe🥺. I feel soooo bad for her honestly, like poor baby🥺🥺Rafe better treat her right or else I hope reader drowns him (she probably won't cuz poor thing has no other option but to be his lmaoo)

Your father exhales, shifting in his seat. Your mother fidgets with her bracelet. Your brother watches you, expression unreadable. "If you can’t accept that," you continue, "then don’t bother coming."

Oh her family is annoying annoying. Like, why are they all acting so clueless?? First they isolate her, make her feel dumb and all, and then make fun of her right in front of her future husband? Istg, I'm so glad reader put them in their places!! She's learning (from Rafe, I'm afraid).

"Shh, angel." His palm presses against your core through your dress, the heat of him seeping into you. "I like seeing you like that. Strong. Knowing what’s yours." Your thighs clench, a soft whimper escaping before you can stop it. "You know what else is yours?" His voice is low, teasing, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, barely brushing where you need him most. You bite your lip, your pulse thrumming. "What?" Rafe tilts his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Me." And just like that, any tension from the night melts away—replaced by something else entirely.

I just came in my pants. I think this is his first time acknowledging her as a person? Like acknowledging her individuality and actually appreciating it. I'm afraid all the bad things I said about him have to be taken back because he's actually so hot. Like so hot I wanna stay on my knees forever for him. Also, love the contrast from the previous chapters, where she's always 'his' but now he's "hers". Ahhh they're both so cute n hot together.

(Also, this might be super weird but for some reason the way you wrote Rafe sometimes would remind me of Mads Mikkelsen?? Maybe I'm dumb or reaching, but Rafe just gives me Mads Mikkelsen vibes, especially the coldness, the sugar daddy vibe.)

Anyways, I love how you've written something so electric and beautiful!! If Rafe was real, I'd be running away from him (and maybe towards him) but you write him in such an electric charming way that I just can't help but fall in love with him despite him being an asshole lol. I've also been daydreaming about sugar daddies so I blame you, no one else for making me this way 💔💔 Love this chapter like always 💗💗

SUGAR-COATED CHAINS — CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

WARNINGS — controlling behaviors, possessiveness, family problems, light smut mdni

You weren’t expecting a detour.

Rafe had told you you’d be meeting your family for dinner, but instead of heading straight there, the car turned onto a long, tree-lined driveway, leading to an estate tucked away from the city.

Your brows knit together as you glance at him. "Where are we?"

Rafe doesn’t answer immediately. He simply steps out of the car and comes around to open your door. There’s something unreadable in his expression as he takes your hand, guiding you up the front steps.

The house is massive—far bigger than your penthouse, though just as sleek and expensive. But when you step inside, it’s different. You expect something cold and unfamiliar, but instead, the space already feels… lived in.

Your favorite flowers sit in a vase on the marble countertop. A book you once mentioned offhandedly rests on the nightstand in the master bedroom. A closet full of designer dresses in your size hangs neatly beside rows of shoes and handbags.

"You like it?" Rafe’s voice is casual, but there’s an edge of expectation beneath it.

You swallow. "This is… ours?"

"It’s ours," he confirms. "We’re moving in after the wedding."

You open your mouth to protest—to at least discuss this—but then something catches your eye. A door, slightly ajar, at the end of the hall.

Something about it makes your stomach twist.

You step forward hesitantly, your fingers trembling as you push it open.

The room is immaculate. Soft pastels, delicate lace curtains, a bassinet already in place. A nursery.

Your breath catches in your throat.

"Rafe."

He hums behind you, his hands settling on your waist. "Go ahead. Take a look."

Your heart pounds as you step inside, the air suddenly too thick. It’s not just a house. It’s a future. One you never planned.

"Rafe, I—"

His grip tightens, his breath warm against your ear. "This is ours, angel. You knew this was coming."

You swallow hard, a strange weight settling in your chest. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before, but seeing it—physically standing in the life he’s building around you—makes it real in a way you weren’t prepared for.

"You’re mine," he murmurs, turning you in his arms. His gaze is steady, unwavering. "We’re done pretending otherwise."

You’re not sure whether it’s comfort or control, but either way, it sinks in.

Because maybe you never really had a choice at all.

—

The drive to your parents’ house is even quieter now.

You stare out the window, fingers clenched in your lap.

Rafe notices. He always does.

"You nervous, angel?" he asks.

You shake your head. "No."

A lie.

He hums, unconvinced.

When you arrive, your mother greets you with a polite kiss on the cheek. Your father barely looks up from his phone.

It’s your brother who makes the biggest show of it—grinning as he pulls you into a one-armed hug, ruffling your hair.

"Look who it is!" he teases. "Still the baby of the family, huh?"

You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

You tug Rafe’s hand. "Come on. I’ll show you my room before dinner."

Your childhood bedroom is smaller than you remember.

Pink sheets still hug the bed. Books still line the shelves.

"Didn’t change much, huh?" Rafe muses.

"Guess not."

You kneel by the dresser, rummaging through an old jewelry box. You don’t notice the way Rafe moves, fingers grazing along your desk—pausing on a small, worn book.

Your diary.

He flips it open.

It only takes a few seconds for him to understand.

The words are shaky, written in a child's uneven scrawl. They tell a story of loneliness, of always being second place.

Of feeling forgotten.

His jaw clenches.

Rafe has always known you were his. But seeing this—seeing how long you’ve felt unwanted—does something to him.

He tucks the diary back into place just as you turn around.

"Found it," you say, holding up a trinket.

Rafe nods, gaze unreadable. "We should head down."*

You don’t notice how he holds you just a little tighter than before.

As predicted dinner is tense.

Your parents are polite, but distant, treating you like a guest rather than their daughter. Your brother, on the other hand, can’t resist slipping in jabs—mostly harmless, but enough to make you squirm.

"You remember how she used to follow me and my friends around?" he chuckles. "Swore she was one of us."

You laugh lightly, even though the memory stings. You were always on the outside, trying to fit in, never quite enough.

Your mother smiles dismissively. "She always was a bit… naive."

That’s when Rafe puts down his fork.

It’s subtle, but it makes the whole table pause.

"She’s not naive," Rafe says, his voice even but firm. His arm drapes over the back of your chair, a casual but unmistakable show of possession. "She just grew up with people who never listened to her."

Silence.

Your father clears his throat. Your mother gives a nervous chuckle, brushing off his words, but your brother looks like he’s actually considering them.

Rafe picks up his fork again, like nothing happened. But beneath the table, his hand slides to your thigh, squeezing gently.

You don’t say anything, but something warm blooms in your chest.

For once, someone stood up for you.

After dinner, as everyone lingers in the living room, you take a slow breath before turning to Rafe.

"Can you wait in the car for a minute?"

His brows furrow slightly, but he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping outside.

Your family looks at you expectantly.

You hesitate for only a second before speaking. "I want you all at the wedding."

Your mother’s lips press together. "Sweetheart, of course we’ll be there—"

"But not if you’re going to treat me like a child." Your voice is steady, surprising even yourself. "I get it. I was always the little sister. The quiet one. The baby of the family. But that’s not who I am anymore."

Your father exhales, shifting in his seat. Your mother fidgets with her bracelet. Your brother watches you, expression unreadable.

"If you can’t accept that," you continue, "then don’t bother coming."

Silence stretches between you all. It’s terrifying, but liberating.

Your mother is the first to speak, softer this time. "We’ll be there."

You don’t wait for more. You just turn and walk out the door.

—

The car ride home is quiet at first. You stare out the window, letting the weight of the night settle in.

Then, you feel it—Rafe’s fingers tracing slow circles on your bare thigh.

"You did good back there," he murmurs.

Your breath catches. His hand slides higher.

"Rafe," you whisper.

"Shh, angel." His palm presses against your core through your dress, the heat of him seeping into you. "I like seeing you like that. Strong. Knowing what’s yours."

Your thighs clench, a soft whimper escaping before you can stop it.

"You know what else is yours?" His voice is low, teasing, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, barely brushing where you need him most.

You bite your lip, your pulse thrumming. "What?"

Rafe tilts his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Me."

And just like that, any tension from the night melts away—replaced by something else entirely.

[seaofreverie]

Starting a challenge tomorrow where I listen to one TMBG album a day chronologically until my epic journey starts

[geddy-leesbian]

YES. I gotta get on my soapbox, Darkside Chronicles is genuinely a better take on the RE2 story than RE2R. I live for the Claire/Ada beef.

Claire: Where are you hurrying off to?

Leon: Where's Ada go?

Claire: She could've gone to the parking lot. This will take us down to the sewer.

Leon: Let's go.

Claire: Wait, Leon. If she did come through here, why would she go alone? There's something about her that bothers me.

Leon: She just wants to get out of here, Claire, and she needs our help.

Claire: Men… You just want to impress her, don't you?

[Claire and Leon hear someone behind a wall they can't get through, but has a gap at the top]

Leon: Hey, anybody in here? Ada, is that you? Are you alright?

Ada [from other side of wall]: Here. I thought you could use this. [She sets ammo on the ledge of the wall gap for Leon to take.] Good luck, Leon. This is goodbye.

Leon: What? Ada, wait!

Claire [sounding very annoyed]: There she goes again.

Leon: If she can get out of here safely, that's all that matters.

Claire [still annoyed]: Well, if you're worried about her, we could go after her.

Leon: No, it's fine. We need to find Sherry.

⬆️ I think that one might be my favorite moment in the RE2 retelling, the way Leon clearly wants to chase after Ada, but still prioritizes Sherry.

Claire: Leon! What happened? Leon: I got shot… There was a woman– Claire: Wait, you mean...? Leon: No. Not Ada. She–

[flashback of Ada treating Leon's wounds I won't bother transcribing because it's not super relevant to my point, important thing is that Ada agrees to help Leon]

Claire [sarcastically]: I guess she's on our side then. Lucky us.

As good as those interactions are, showing Claire's view of Ada, having one-on-one interactions would be amazing and I wish they had done that for RE2R. (Since the DSC retelling has Claire and Leon together for almost the entire time, aside from Leon falling into the sewer and taking the bullet for Ada, one-on-one interactions just wouldn'tiu have made much sense so the Leon interacting with Ada and Claire being pissed about it was perfect for that game specifically, but RE2R could have made one-on-one Claire/Ada work if they wanted.) Having a full game also would have opened up so much potential for conflict between Claire and Ada, DSC did a fantastic job, but at the end of the day, they still had to squeeze three different plots into one game, things had to be condensed and left out. Comparing it to RE2R just makes me sad because RE2R would have been so amazing if they had taken some ideas from DSC and built on them. Like as much as I like what DSC did with Ada, she doesn't really try deceiving anyone, none of the FBI stuff, she's very suspicious from the start and just brushes Claire and Leon off after realizing Leon doesn't know shit. (She sees him in his RPD uniform and asks if he knows anything about Ben Bertolucci and takes off when he says he just got to Raccoon City and doesn't know anything.) Well actually she does deceive them by faking her death, but until that she never really tries to pretend she's someone she's not and doesn't actively lie, she just lies by omission mostly. Like she won't tell them what she's up to, but she doesn't give them a fake story either, just nothing, says something vague and walks away. I like her being more deceptive/manipulative, it fits the spy thing more than her just avoiding topics which makes her look sketchier than if she had given them a bullshit cover story to keep them off her back.

To shift gears a bit, Leon interacting with Annette was also great! The call really gets me...

Leon: Wait, I'm picking something up. A signal…

Claire: A radio signal? From who?

Annette, from Leon's radio: Do you read me?

Claire: Annette?

Annette: Is Sherry there?

Leon: Yeah. She was attacked. She's in critical condition. [angry tone and body language] Where are you now? [pause] Hey, you still there?

Annette: Be careful… Especially with that woman.

Leon: What woman?

Annette: Ada. She's a special agent sent here to retrieve the G sample. She was approaching the researchers and obtaining information about Umbrella. She'll do whatever it takes to accomplish her purpose. She's highly dangerous.

Leon: I think you're wrong. You don't know what you're talking about. Ada isn't… Annette? Annette…!? Dammit. She hung up on me.

This post is already getting too long so I'm not going to break out more transcripts, but there's also the moment where Annette's dying wish is for Leon and Claire to save Sherry, and says that she wants them to tell her that she has always loved her, even though she failed as a mother. (I also vastly prefer DSC Annette's characterization to RE2R. She's a lot more gray. She fucked up, badly, but it's clear she genuinely loved Sherry and she did a lot more to protect her and made her much more of a priority than in RE2R.) And then in the ending cutscene Leon tells Sherry that the vaccine that saved her was from her mother, who loved her until the very end. (And Sherry just cries and doesn't believe him and says he's lying, because mommy never...)

I really like the concept of Leon being softer on Annette too. (not pulling it up IIRC there's one DSC scene where you can see from body language/tone Claire really doesn't like Annette, but Leon is more neutral.) It kind of goes with my headcanons of Leon having had a very rough upbringing with a shitty family, so he sees that Annette cares a little bit and it's enough for him to view her positively, because his own family didn't even care that much, he's just got a broken normal meter and a very, very low bar for good parenting. He gets a lot angrier with her when the radio call happens, but again softens up when her literal dying wish is for them to get the vaccine and save Sherry's life.

Ada doesn't ever interact with Sherry in DSC, but now that you mention it, that would have been something really interesting to explore.

Okay I'll get down from my soapbox now

i wholeheartedly believe that leon and claire’s roles after re2 (moreso the remake than the og) should have been switched. they’re two sides of the same coin (innate need to help people, wanting to take down greedy corporations, etc), but leon’s more passive and, i would say, more inclined to exposing things as his way of help, whereas claire is much more aggressive and quick to action. in this essay i will—

[sisaloofafump]

.

[maxtothemax]

agreed, but it could also be shoddy math about the whole "bird kids have hollow bones" thing. i'm not the right person to ask about what percent body weight our bones make up, but i feel like barely 100 pounds at 5'8" is still severely lowballing it.

this also reminds me of when i was reading Worm a little while ago and it said taylor was ... i think 5'10" and 120 pounds? like girl. i used to be 5'1" and 120 pounds and i was very skinny. put some meat on her bones.

honestly, i do think that james patterson is very loosey-goosey with numbers, but it's also true that he wanted us to be hyper aware that all of his characters are super duper attractive, like the most attractive teenagers ever, just so you know. which is incredibly annoying of him.

Thinking about the height/weight info we’re given for the Flock and how it’s yet another thing that makes absolutely no sense.

We’re told in STWaOES that Max weighs ‘barely 100 pounds’ and I can’t remember when we’re told her height, but the wiki says she’s 5’8”

That’s an insane ratio. Like I’m 5’2” and was about 95 pounds as a teen (combination of the meds I was on and just being naturally skinny at the time) and I was considered to be underweight. And Max is significantly taller than me and apparently weighed the same? Thats so ridiculously skinny, and even more so when you consider that some of that weight would come from her wings, so in reality her actual body weighs even less than that. Like I get that they apparently have different body density or something, like their bones and stuff weigh less than a normal human, but that’s still such a crazy ratio.

The first book came out in 2005, so tbh I think it’s just kind of a product of its time. Diet culture and the need to be supermodel skinny was a really big thing back then, and that kind of ideology found its way into all types of media, even YA books. Like back then, the idea of having a protagonist who wasn’t conveniently attractive wasn’t very common, and being skinny was a huge part of being conveniently attractive in the 2000’s.

[moe-broey]

Would I be proving my therapist (who has been voicing some concerns about my depression maybe getting worse but like I feel like it's fine) right by cancelling my appointment tomorrow cause I just don't wanna. Like all I have to report is that I'm tired and I wanna rest and I just don't really feel like it y'know

[lesenbyan]

Tfw @composeregg showed me a bumper sticker last night and now we're both in the glorious hell of reading scientific articles about how time is fake and how scientists are testing that

[thecherrygod]

/

[legionofpotatoes]

wait is there a story behind the shaming of someone recording a stranger in public?

nothing too exciting nonnie, no

[non-un-topo]

At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer

[talkorsomething]

They literally just had a conversation about ice cube trays and whether or not they were clean (they decided they were not i think?) and did NOT ask me anything. Do i not exist to you people

[sematarygirls]

Okay but he’d fuck you so hard when they lose the Super Bowl after you spends an hour gloating about the eagles handing their asses to them!

i saw this request and started giggling and kicking my feet omg. anon, i owe you my first born child. you are a GENIUS! (although, fair warning, i'm not great at writing smut. i hope this is okay <3) not proofread

cw: unprotected p in v, rough sex, mean rafe, slapping, degradation

Football tended to be a touchy subject between you and Rafe. Where you were a diehard Eagles fan, he wouldn't be caught dead rooting for them. After the Chiefs narrowly beat out the Eagles in the 2023 Super Bowl, Rafe wouldn't shut up for weeks about how "trash" the Eagles were. It drove you absolutely insane.

That's why, when the Eagles absolutely kicked ass this Super Bowl in a rematch against the Chiefs, beating them out at a whopping 40-22, you thought it was your well-deserved right to rub it in Rafe's face, much to his dismay.

One thing about Rafe is that gloating is only okay when he does it—much like a lot of other things (he's a very hypocritical guy), hence his growing anger when you wouldn't stop talking about how the Chiefs absolutely threw the game with all their fumbles, making jokes the whole time about how it seemed like they weren't even playing.

Another thing about Rafe? He tended to get violent when he was angry. With other people, this meant he'd kick their asses, but with you, it meant you were in for a long night of rough fucking to make him feel better and put you in your place for your "bratty attitude."

Though, if you tried to point out the hypocrisy with him finding your actions annoying when he had done the exact same two years prior, he would only get more annoyed and very, very defensive.

You'd learned at a very early stage in your relationship that some battles were not worth fighting with Rafe, and besides, you kind of liked it when he was all rough with you, manhandling and degrading you deliciously.

"Not so mouthy now, huh?" He taunted, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust pushed you forward a little bit, your face burying further into the pillows as you moaned. A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, the pain sending a jolt of pleasure to your core that had you practically gushing around Rafe's thick length. You didn't know how long you'd been going at this with him, but he hadn't let you cum, nor had he let up the brutal pace.

"Look at you," he sneered. "Can't even think of anything to say back to me, huh? Thought you were gonna gloat all night about how the Eagles won." His words were cruel and biting, revealing the depth of his anger, which wasn't about the football game. It was more so about being challenged, his ego hurt after talking such a big game about how the Chiefs were going to dominate.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your brain turned to mush as the only thing you could focus on were his rough hands on you and his length stretching your velvety walls. You could practically feel each ridge and vein of his cock as it slid back and forth, his tip nudging your cervix roughly with each pass.

"What happened to that smart mouth, huh?" He mocked. "Your dumb little brain's too desperate for cock, huh, bunny," he cooed, his tone patronizing as he continued to pound into you with rough strokes, making your back arch and eyes roll back.

He was so mean, but you loved it.

He was right. You couldn't respond to him anymore. You had lost your ability to form a single word, dumbed down to a mess of please sounds as he hit that sweet spot inside of you so perfectly. He took that as a victory, seeing it as proof that you knew your place. He loved it when you whimpered underneath him, completely at his mercy. "Look who's behaving now. You're lucky you're so pretty, honey," he continued, enjoying this little game of his. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with such a bratty mouth."

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, giving your ass another sharp smack before his hands found your hips again, his grip bordering on painful. "And this fuckin' love this pussy. Fuckin' perfect, baby."

He was getting close. You could tell by the way his pace started to falter, and his words switched from degrading to praising. One hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing firm circles. Even when he was pissed, he still tried to make you cum first.

It didn't take much more effort on his part. Your thighs were already trembling, desperate for release from the moment he'd thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off.

"You're gonna be a good girl now, huh? You're gonna stop being such a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He questioned, punctuating each question with a thrust. "No more running your mouth and riling me up, right?"

"Uh huh," you whined pathetically, needy and desperate to cum.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you, all pliant and begging. "Yeah, you gonna stop talking back, huh? You can be a good little bunny for me, can't you?" He cooed, his words sounding a little bit less harsh. He was enjoying having you like this, completely at his mercy.

All you could muster was a weak nod, your fingers gripping the sheets and mouth parted in ecstacy as you reached your peak, blinding pleasure overtaking your body as your walls clamped down around his cock.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he groaned, pumping a few more times before pushing deep inside you and releasing spurts of hot, sticky cum into your eager cunt.

[kuiinncedes]

jflfkgjd

[realcube]

— SAIKI RELATIONSHIP HCS

☆ very hesitant to hug you/hold hands bc he is afraid he might shatter all your bones. prefers kisses, less can go wrong

☆ except that one time he kissed you and was so flustered that a whole galaxy exploded

☆ but it was one of those really distant, useless ones so he moved on

☆ or that time you held his hand and he literally started levitating ??

☆ finishes exams in two seconds then spends the rest of the time annoying you

'i don't mean to disturb you but i noticed you put the wrong answer for question four' 'get out of my head!'

☆ i already wrote a drabble about this but he morphs into different objects to 'prank' you

☆ you always want him to shrink bc what's the point of having a psychic bf if you can't carry him around on your person like a polly pocket

☆ he's very apprehensive about it, however one day he finally agrees to it because you have a shift at work and you really wanted him to join you but it would be weird if he just showed up to your place of work unannounced so he shrunk and you carried him around in your back pocket

☆ that is until you almost sat on him!! and when he dived out to avoid being crushed, he fell onto the sticky work floor covered in dust

☆ still hasn't fully recovered 😿

☆ omg if you are insecure about a physical feature of yours , instead of using his powers to change you, he will use his mind control on the entire world so that your insecurity is now the beauty standard (similar to what he did with his hair)

☆ he doesn't use mind control on you though bc it's rude

☆ in fact he tries to avoid using his powers on you all together bc it would only cause trouble (with the exception of telepathy bc he likes to speak to you.. unlike he does with most people)

☆ and he's very strict with that ethic of his

☆ which is nice and all, and really easy until he does something super embarrassing in front of you

☆ like you see him scream at a cockroach or smth

☆ and he is SO tempted to use memory alteration on you so you could just forget that ever happened

☆ but he just can't bring himself to do it

☆ OR when your birthday was before his so he got you a present but didn't do that much else, but when it was time for his birthday and you went all out, he so wanted to either go back in time and do better or just alter your memory so you think he went all out too

☆ oh and passive aggression doesn't work on him ofc

☆ if you are ever mad or upset at him for whatever reason, you can't be like 'hmph i'm not gonna tell you what you did wrong, you just have to know :<' bc he can.. y'know.. read your mind

☆ and he also knows exactly what to do to make you feel better and forgive him, every single time

☆ plus you can never stay mad at him for long anyway bc he's just too cute!!

☆ too shy to admit that he wants to spend more time with you so he will use his powers as some sort of excuse

as you're about to leave saiki's room, he lies, 'wait. don't go. i have had a precognition that something terrible is going to happen to you if you do.' 'really?' you raise an eyebrow. 'and what might that be?' he wasn't really ready for any follow up questions so he stutters and thinks of the scariest scenario he can 'toritsuka.' ... 'toritsuka is going to do what? jump me?' 'no. just toritsuka.'

☆ for your birthday or anniversary he does something you call the 'saiki special' where he duplicates himself to give you a full body massage

☆ it's what dreams are made of !!!

☆ but yeah it's a lot of effort so he saves it for special occasions

☆ he would so love to watch trashy reality tv shows with you

☆ but he so uses it against you

☆ like if you are ever studying and are like 'why am i working so hard when you are psychic and can literally set us up for the easy life 😫'

☆ he'll be like.. you know who else never worked hard a day in they're life.. the kardashians!! do you really want to end up like that??

☆ and when you say yes this is the face he makes 😐

☆ dw though bc as i said before he will be in your head during exams so he can help you a little

☆ his love language is actually spoonfeeding you food and desserts

☆ and yes he actually uses his hands opposed to his mind to control the spoon, just to show you that being a psychic doesn't mean he gets to cut corners!