#it's SUPPOSED to be fucked up and uncomfortable

[devourrrmee]

warning — p links! dni if uncomfortable.

rafe cameron x fem!reader

warning! must be logged into twt/x for you to see the links :p

incl ⤷smoking weed, rough sex, unprotected, oral, finger sucking, deep throating, fingering, spanking, pussyjob

Ი︵𐑼 RAFE CAMERON ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ .ᐟ

— munch!rafe who is relentless on you, no matter the time of day

— you guys were supposed to be in the country club like … 20 minutes ago.

— dating dealer!rafe :3

— noise complaints on top of noise complaints…

— “fuck, baby. look at the mess you’re making.”

— dinner would’ve been ready earlier if there weren’t such distractions around you

— rafe eating you out to make it up to you

— lovely day with rafe on the water :)

[nakylvr]

— magnolia ✧ D.A

summary જ⁀➴ after two months of being engaged, there are more unexpected surprises that come in the form of two lines on a pregnancy test

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ fluff, dealer!dani au, f!reader, established relationship, pregnancy announcement

substance masterlist

based on this ask

to say you were panicking would be an understatement, because you were losing your shit, utterly and totally losing it. the past three days you woke up rushing to the bathroom to throw up, and you thought you were just sick. until you realized that you were late for your period. then, the panicking started.

you called megan on the fourth day while dani was out running errands, asking her to come over and make sure dani didn't know. she was confused, but she always listened. so within half an hour, she was sitting outside your bathroom.

when you told megan the reason you wanted her there, and showed the test in your hand, she understood why you were freaking out. it was understandable, it made sense.

she stood outside the bathroom while you did the test. both of you waiting anxiously for the results that would come. and when the results came, your heart dropped.

two lines. you were pregnant.

"meg?" you say loud enough for her to hear through the door, your voice cracking.

megan instantly opens the door, peeking her head through before slowly walking up to you. you don't say anything, instead just holding up the test towards her, and her eyes go wide.

"yn..." is all she can get out.

"what am i going to do?" your lip quivers as tears fill your eyes.

"everything's gonna be fine," megan says quickly. "you're gonna be fine. this is–this is a good thing, right?"

"i-i don't know," you answer honestly. "how am i supposed to tell her?"

"we'll figure it out." megan grabs your hand. "you don't have to tell her right now. just when you're ready."

you slowly nod, a few tears trickling down your cheeks. "i'm scared, megan." you whisper. "i'm so fucking scared."

"i know." megan crouches in front of you, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you. "everything is gonna work out, i swear."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you were still hesitant on even telling daniela two days after you confirmed you were pregnant. you were terrified of her reaction and how she would go about it. there were hundreds of thoughts running through your head, and you didn't know what to do about it.

sitting on the couch with your hoodie on over your head, a blanket covering you, and multiple tissues around you, you were recovering from crying on the phone with megan. daniela was out on a deal, and you had maybe five more minutes before she would be back.

"it's gonna be fine, yn. seriously."

"i don't know, megan." you say quietly.

daniela unlocks the front door and takes a few steps inside, hearing you talking and assuming you were on the phone. she opens her mouth to say something, but freezes in her place at your next words.

"i mean, what if she doesn't want to keep it?"

daniela swears her heart drops to her stomach, but she tries to play it off. tossing her keys exaggeratedly on the counter and announcing her presence like she didn't hear you. "i'm back!"

you immediately hang up on megan when you hear daniela's voice, putting your phone down as she walks into the living room. she stops abruptly when she sees the state of you along with the tissues scattered around you, her eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

"are you okay?"

you meekly nod your head, fiddling with the sleeve of your hoodie that draped over your hands. daniela walks over and sits down beside you. she can tell you're lying, but she doesn't push it.

"so, what were you talking about me not wanting to keep?" she asks nonchalantly. "you didn't get a dog without asking me, did you?" she jokes.

you don't smile, you're not even looking at her when you quietly say the words. you can see her smile drop the second you say it.

"i'm pregnant."

there's a silence that fills the room. uncomfortable, awkward, the kind that hadn't happened in a while. you contemplate saying something else, play it off as a joke maybe. but daniela speaks first.

"are you serious?" she asks quietly.

you nod, feeling your throat close up. "i-i took a test a few days ago a-and it came out positive." you manage to get out. "i'm sorry for not telling you right away. i-i didn't know what to do."

daniela grabs one of your hands, bringing it up to her lips and pressing small kisses on your knuckles. "this is amazing, mi vida." she says softly. you finally look over at her, and your breath catches in your throat seeing the tears in her eyes. "this is amazing. i can't wait to start a family with you. i love you so much."

"really?" you let out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"of course," daniela says with a nod, grabbing your arm and pulling you onto her lap. she peers up at you with pure adoration and love in her eyes, and it makes tears fill your own. "i'm so happy. this is great. we're gonna have a family, and we're gonna be the best parents ever. i love you so much, so so much. and i'm going to be right here with you every step of the way. i promise." she presses a gentle kiss on your cheek that had a few tears trailing down.

a small smile grows on your face at her words, and you don't know why you were worrying in the first place. "i love you too. you're going to be great." you reply.

"you're gonna be even better." she smiles back at you. "i can't wait."

"yeah, me too." you smile, leaning in and kissing her.

[crimeronan]

After all was settled, with the buildings built and the gardens grown and the harvest sown and the roads retread and the plumbing restored – after all was settled, the god slept.

He didn't retreat into his cavern below the earth. Nor did he raise himself a palace or a fortress or even a bed. He walked into the lobby of the community center, which for now was also a shelter and an orphanage and a food pantry and a resting place for weary pilgrims, and he lay down on the floor in a tucked-away corner in front of a heating vent, and he slept.

He spoke to no one. He asked for nothing. He curled on his side with his eyes closed and his tangle of dark hair covering his face, and he slept for two entire days.

The staff were... not sure how to respond.

It was not because they were unequipped to deal with strange men sleeping in strange places. The community center was still new and untested, as everything in the temple was new and untested, and it had become the grounds for all sorts of unexpected visitors. Procedures were still being refined. But in most cases, an exhausted man with no apparent home would be spoken to gently, and fed, and offered a warm bed, and asked about his circumstances. When those circumstances proved complicated, which was inevitable, the staff would retreat into a closed room to argue legalities and technicalities and risks and rewards. It could be dangerous to help the less fortunate.

And then they would help. They would find some way to help.

But the god... complicated things. He was holy, a creature set apart, and nobody wanted to incur his wrath. To approach a god was to sacrifice oneself. To be approached was to lose oneself. And besides, gods were fickle, selfish things – if the god wanted or needed for anything, surely the staff would know.

Most could recognize the god on sight, instrumental as he'd been in the temple's construction. But once or twice, as the receptionist in the lobby changed shifts, the new employee would take a concerned step toward the apparent pilgrim. And the just-off-shift worker would grab their wrist and hiss, "No, that's him," and that would be the end of it.

Ada was the one to break the spell. She was older, well into her sixties, with short silver hair and gnarled fingers turned akey by decades of rheumatoid arthritis. She was pointedly not one of the center's staff, because she lacked any warmth or patience or gentleness for the downtrodden, and she'd lived in this world for far too long to fear the gods.

She entered the lobby like a hurricane, a basket of fruit held in the crook of her arm, a cane braced in the other withered hand, and she hissed, "Has the stupid fuck even eaten?"

The receptionist shot her a startled, guilty look. In his unobtrusive corner, the crumpled silhouette of the god slept on.

"Useless, the lot of you," Ada spat. "I don't suppose you've checked for a pulse, either? Fat lot of good you people do. Haven't you ever seen a god die? He's still human."

This last part was debatable. The receptionist shifted uncomfortably.

Ada began to hobble toward the god, with all the stubborn intention of a crotchety old woman about to settle a score. Only then did the receptionist rise, and there was real fear in her voice as she cried, "Wait–"

"Boy!" Ada shouted, and stamped her cane on the ground. "Get up!"

This proved just as effective as whacking him with said cane would have been. The god jolted upright, wild-eyed, and scrambled to his feet.

"Got a pulse, then," Ada observed, at a normal volume, with something like dry approval. "Boy. Come here."

The receptionist was so still that she did not appear to be breathing. Her eyes were nearly as wild as the god's, darting between him and Ada. Because she was good at conflict deescalation, though, she did not immediately move into action. Her frame was taut with tension. Much tenser than she ever was with even the most unpleasant of vagrants.

The god half-stumbled over to them, his black tank top askew, hair mussed. It was the bleary, frantic movement of someone sharply woken by the sound of explosions.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "Who's hurt?"

Ada tucked her cane into her elbow and lifted an apple from the bag, not-so-delicately clutched between her thumb and two straightest fingers.

"Eat this," she said.

The god blinked.

He was young, still. Or at least, this particular body was young. Old enough for a full beard, somehow, and young enough that it looked funny on him. Like a child playing pretend in his father's closet.

As his expression cleared, Ada noted other warning signs. The ashy cast to his dark skin. The deep, nearly-black shadows under his eyes. The bloody cracks at the corners of his lips.

"For fuck's sake, get him some water," she told the receptionist. "Now."

The receptionist did not need to be told twice. She scurried off in the direction of the kitchens.

Now alone with Ada, the god began to list dangerously to one side.

She thrust her cane into his hand. "Here."

"I'm not going to–"

"What, take the mobility from an old woman? Fine. Prideful coward." She snorted, setting her basket on the ground and spreading her arms. "Let's see if I catch you. You're, mm, six feet tall? More? Yeah. Let's go, kid. I'm strong. Look at me. Bet you'll only shatter half my ribs and a single hip. I like the odds."

The god took the cane.

Not for long, though. The longer he stood, the more distant his expression became, until he gave in and gently eased himself onto the scuffed ground. He winced as he did so, but he was young – his limbs still had all the flexibility and muscle and life that Ada's lacked.

Ada herself could not so easily rise from the floor, so she accepted the cane again, and she stood there watching him.

He bit into the apple. Juice ran down his chin, dripping from his wrist. At first it was just that, a single bite. And then another. And then, as though a switch had been flipped, he began to tear into the flesh of the fruit. He inhaled the majority of the meat and reached into the basket, grabbing another, and then another, and another.

By the time he'd devoured a fourth apple, there was a new arrival on the scene. Not the useless receptionist from before, praise the gods (ha!), but a young person in a white physician's robe. Ada recognized them. One of the talents who'd walked away from a guaranteed career in the city, all to play in the mud out here with the elderly and the insane and the crippled. Idealistic fool.

They didn't look frightened. They knelt beside the god and held out a bottle of water, just as they would for any other dehydrated patient. When the god snatched it like a starving child, they said, "Whoa, hey, easy. Small sips, please. You'll make yourself sick."

The god snarled something that was either in a foreign language or just too angry to be intelligible.

The doctor didn't flinch. Neither did Ada.

No divine wrath bore down upon them, though. No choking sludge in the lungs, no twisted roots erupted from the floor. The god regarded the pair with the sullenness of the young boy he was, and then he scoffed, and then he unscrewed the cap and took small sips.

The doctor made a mistake, once the god had set the bottle down. It was a little thing, a nothing-thing. The god seemed an awful lot like a mortal man, and so perhaps both witnesses had forgotten themselves.

The doctor pressed two fingertips to the underside of the boy's jaw, in the tangled and now slightly-wet beard.

The god lashed out.

Only later did Ada realize there was nothing supernatural about the movement. The god flung an arm out against the doctor's ribs, hurling them back across the floor. They slid several feet and caught themselves on their hands, narrowly avoiding the hard wood of the reception desk.

Ada turned away from the scene and hobbled toward the door.

The god let her go, possibly because she was a crippled old lady, but more likely because he was too busy snarling, "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry," the doctor said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

Ada reached the glass. The garden outside appeared deserted, a creek burbling cheerfully, birds singing praises, unaware of their patron's temper. Nobody was close enough to intervene. Still, Ada did what she'd come here to do and flipped the lock. Best not to let the wandering public see their worst fears come to pass.

When she returned her attention to the scene, the doctor had already righted themselves, brushing off the sleeves of their coat. Their hands were out, palms up, but they also had the good sense not to approach.

The god staggered to his feet, scattering apple cores across the ground. His movements were jerky, uncalculated. Unbalanced. He looked from the doctor to Ada, and he registered her steel stance in front of the door, and his expression changed.

"Fuck," he said, and then, panting, "Fuck. Get out. Get the fuck out. Get away from me."

The doctor nodded without a word. They retreated through the door to the main center. It was a wide entrance, round and warm, and it had been open every time Ada had ever set foot inside. But now the doctor unlatched two heavy swinging panels that apparently weren't decorative, and they pulled the doors shut behind them.

Despite the doctor being the sort of idiot to leave a cushy city life for an idealistic dream, Ada trusted their judgment. She knew that they would quietly and calmly move from room to room, asking the staff to please usher the children and the infirm and the unhoused outside. They wouldn't raise an alarm, both to avoid frightening the people and to avoid provoking the god. Given enough time, even a collapse of the building would have minimal casualties.

Ada remained where she was. She would not be rattled by an angry boy with wild magic.

And angry he was. When she didn't move, his lips curled back, a rictus grimace. "Get out."

If she got out, the god might follow her out into the garden. Or follow the doctor into the main center. He might pick off any number of victims from the people escaping out the back.

As long as he remained where Ada could see him, those people remained alive.

She would not be rattled by an angry boy with wild magic.

The god plucked a still-whole apple from the basket. He didn't bite into it or lob it toward Ada, both of which she expected. He just gripped it like he wanted to crush it in his fist, and the soft red began to darken into something rustier, bloodier. Black tendrils sprouted from the stem and the core, furled with leaves, crawling up the god's wrist like latticework.

Even the cleverest earth magician couldn't sprout life like that. There was something grotesque about it, something dripping with malice. The thing did not look like an apple sapling. It didn't even look like ivy. It looked like living shadows, now working up toward the god's shoulder like spidery veins.

"Get," the god started, and then paused, gasping for air, "away."

"Or what?" Ada asked, leaning casually on her cane. "You gonna kill me, kid? You gonna blight me with that magic there? You ever done that before?"

"I could."

"So could anyone." Magic and violence, after all, were not the domain of gods. "Big win, to kill a cripple. Feels good, I bet. Feels like winning. Fuck all the old people. It's backwards, you know. All this so-called respect just because we didn't die? Fuck us. Cockroaches. We didn't die 'cause other people did instead. Fuck it. Go ahead."

The god swallowed. His nails dug into what remained of the corrupted apple, gouged to the knuckle. The black veins crept below his shirt, across his chest, under his skin.

There was not enough matter in the apple to transform into that much material. The magic was something else.

Divine intervention was a hell of a drug.

Ada stood before the door, and Ada watched the god, and Ada did not move.

The god didn't kill her.

At least, not yet.

His face twisted, suddenly, into uncertainty. Once again, he seemed young. Unsure of himself. No eldritch rage, just the hesitation of a strange kid with poor footing. He sat back down, hard, beside the basket, and he drew his knees to his chest, and he hugged his arms around them.

Sludge dripped from his palm. The apple no longer existed in any recognizable form, but his fist remained clenched. Ada could only guess at how far the magic had spread over his body, under his clothes.

"I really think you should go," the god said, and his voice broke. "I'd rather not hurt you."

"Fine. Then don't."

"I'm gonna have to," he said, "if you keep blocking the door."

So he did want to rampage. Or maybe just to run. Ada wouldn't fuss about the latter – but the former was untenable.

"Then do," she said. "Go ahead. I'm close to done either way."

"Fuck." The god dragged in another jagged, painful breath, and scrubbed at his eyes with his non-corrupted palm. "Fuck."

"Don't cry for me, kid," Ada said. "Just do what you're gonna do."

"Stop it."

It was probably a bad idea to goad him. Ada had no illusions about her ability to deescalate. She wasn't searching out a secret heart of gold. The more she pushed, the more he'd feel the need to prove.

She kept talking. She'd never been one to shut her mouth.

"Why'd you come here, anyway?" Ada demanded. "Why even bother if you hate us so fucking much? Hell of a place for a guy who doesn't want to be touched. Thought you had a hermit hole you could use instead. Nobody's going down into your fucking death cave."

The god did not respond.

"Were we supposed to read your fucking mind, then?" Ada pressed, and the fury blistered her throat, curled her aching fingers. "Was there some fucking ritual you wanted? Should we have handed you a virgin? A child sacrifice? Next time, just ask. We can't read your fucking mind. You have to open your fucking mouth and speak, godling. Nothing's coming to you otherwise."

The god closed his eyes. His hand continued to drip, sluggish. Ada could no longer tell whether the liquid was magic or his own mortal blood.

"How long do I have?" he asked, very softly.

Ada couldn't even parse the question. How long did he have? Decades more in this body, and centuries after that. More than enough time to refine the particulars of his own worship. More than enough time to shape this place and its people into whatever twisted little conundrum his heart desired.

Or maybe he meant, How long do I have before everyone runs? Before there's no way left to rage, or feed, or fight? How long before I'm left alone?

Centuries, still. The fanatic would follow him for the magic, and the desperate would follow him for the hope, and the cruel would follow him for everything else. That was the way of gods.

"Fuck if I know," Ada said. "Not sure that's up to me."

The god didn't seem angered by this response. He just nodded, eyes still closed.

"You'll have to tell Nova," he said. "She still needs me on ritual nights. You'll have to work it out with her."

Now Ada had completely lost the plot. "Since when would I tell that insipid bitch anything?"

The god shook his head. "Plural you. You know, you all. You. Tell someone who can tell someone who can tell her. Just–"

He broke off, scrubbing at his eyes again. Ada's own eyesight was far from perfect, and so she couldn't see the tracks, but even so, she was pretty sure he was crying real tears.

She probably should have felt sympathetic. Maybe he even wanted her to feel sympathetic.

She was, however, who she was.

"The fuck are you crying about?" she asked, with genuine bafflement.

The god made a raspy sound that might have been a sob. Might also have been a laugh.

"I wanted a little more time," he said. "That's all."

"Time to do what?"

"To be sober, mostly," he said, which made no fucking sense at all. "To walk around, I guess. Make the flowers grow. You know. Little things."

Patience deserted Ada, if she'd ever had any in the first place. "Then just fucking be sober," she snapped. "Those fucking apples aren't fermented. Go tell the doc you're a useless fucking drunk and then fucking stop drinking. No one's stopping you. I don't give a shit that you feel sorry for yourself."

There was a long silence, only broken by the god's ragged, occasionally-snotty breaths. Ada counted seconds in her head. One hundred, two hundred, three. Many of the most vulnerable must have been out of the building by now. Good.

"Aren't you arresting me?" the god finally asked.

Somehow, Ada discovered, her rage and indignation had not yet peaked.

"Who the fuck is going to arrest you?" she shouted.

She wanted to hit him with her cane. She wanted to smack him across the face. Either of those would require her to leave the door; she compromised by slipping off her shoe and hurling it at his head instead.

He didn't even try to dodge. He might not have even seen her throw it. Regardless, she was not known for her athleticism or her grip strength, and so the shot went wide, bouncing harmlessly across the ground beside the eaten apples.

Now the god was looking at her, though. Properly looking, his brow furrowed, head tilted. The black veins had crawled over his jaw and hooked their way into the cracks in the corner of his mouth. Though Ada's eyesight was not the best, she took a few tottering steps forward and focused. The skin around the wound was rippling, twitching, like the not-plant was snaking through his actual capillaries.

The angrier she got, the calmer he seemed. The magic didn't seem to frighten him, but then again, she supposed, that was his nature. Maybe it didn't feel as wrong as it looked.

"The... cops?" he said.

Ada threw her other shoe at him.

She regretted it immediately, but not for any god-wrath reasons. Once again, the shot missed by several feet. Once again, the god ignored it. But she was suddenly, acutely aware of the rock-hard floor against her aching feet.

Why the fuck had the kid been sleeping here?

"You own the fucking cops!" she exploded. "Arrest you? We can't even fucking look at you without you throwing a fucking fit! Arrest you? Ha! What fucking army? What fucking jail? Where do we put a temple with no god? Where do we put a people with no temple? You're it for us. We don't have anything else. Don't you get that? Arrest you! Ha! No, fuck you, you stupid, spoiled child. You can rip their babies' hearts out in front of them and they can't do a fucking thing to stop you."

The god said, "Oh."

"'Oh,' he says," Ada mocked. "Oh. Oh, what a fucking revelation. What a thrill. Glad I could fucking enlighten you. Are you making plans now? Off to pick the prettiest girls, I bet. Prettiest boys? What's your type? Doesn't matter. Be as sick as you want. Be as cruel as you want. They won't refuse you, godling. Nobody will. We need you."

Finally, he moved. He unfolded his knees and pressed his palms to the ground, and he pushed himself to his feet. His arm and shoulder were all darkness, now, but the magic didn't appear to be spreading any farther. At least, not on his skin. Perhaps it was satisfied now that it had found a opening, now that it was eating through his insides.

His steps toward Ada were slow, but they were steady. He stopped an arm's length from her. From here, she could see his drying tears, and the viscous slick of rotten magic, and the mouth slit stuffed with crawling worms. Dead thing. Decaying thing.

"I'll go down to the caves," he said, as though the rot didn't hurt him at all. "I won't trouble you again. Please – please stand aside."

"I can't," Ada said.

"Why not?"

"I don't trust you."

The god's lips pressed together, a painful-looking motion, made worse by his wounds.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said.

"I'm not frightened."

A wan, tight smile pulled at his bloody lips. It did not touch his eyes.

Ada searched her thundering pulse and found that her hands were shaking. The ever-present fire in them was a curious afterthought, far less loud than the rest of her. It was rare for pain to take a back seat to action, these days.

Maybe she was frightened.

"You did mean to frighten me, you dumb fucking cunt," she said, with no small amount of exasperation. "You threatened to kill me."

"Yes, well. I'm sorry. I misunderstood. I – I was frightened."

He did not have anything to be frightened of. How absurd for him not to have known that. She'd never heard of a god who feared consequences.

Maybe she never would again.

As if reading her mind, he said, gently, "I'm not frightened anymore. I'd like to take my leave now. I swear to you, I won't hurt anybody. I promise. You'll never see me again."

"You fucking coward," Ada said.

She almost expected him to lash out, like he had with the doctor. Surely at some point, enough would be enough. Surely a god would do what a god would do.

But he just threw up his hands, matching her exasperation. "What?" he demanded. "Are you serious? Or are you arguing with me just to argue with me?"

"Oh, sure, go back to your hermit hole," she said. "We'll all be so safe from you. We'll all be so much better up here. Fuck everybody who needs a god. Why try to be a good one? That's too hard. You're tired. You're mean. Your little child feelings are hurt. You're sad. So fuck everyone who needs a god."

"Nobody needs a god."

"Then what the fuck are we doing here?"

The god studied her. She didn't know what he was looking for. She didn't know what he wanted from her. She didn't know whether he found it.

What she did know was that eventually, his shoulders slumped. He sighed. The magic, the rot, whatever it was, almost seemed to calm, his skin stilling.

"I'm not Nova," he said.

"Fucking obviously."

"I'm not a monster."

"Is she?"

He didn't answer.

"Doesn't matter, I guess," she told him. "You don't care. So go be a stupid, selfish cunt. Do whatever you want. Hurt us or leave us, it doesn't matter. I won't stop you. I'll just tell them all I told you so."

She undid the lock on the door, and then she stepped away, bending in a stiff, mocking bow.

The god pressed a hand to the glass. His eyes were fixed on the garden. The creek continued to burble. The birds continued to chirp. The sun peeked in golden afternoon rays down through the clouds, a beautiful autumn day.

Then he turned back to Ada.

"Please–" he started, and faltered, and tried again. "Please... go tell Cosmas I'm sorry. Tell them – tell them I'll wait for them here. And tell them I need their help."

Ada studied the boy. It was a command, sort of, but she didn't think he would punish her refusal. If anything, there was a fragility to his shoulders, to the fingers pressed to the door. The suffocating weight of shame.

She nodded, once, and then she hobbled off in service to her god.

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𓂇⋆⭒˚｡⋆

miya atsumu x f!reader

you invite atsumu and the boys to your spring dance showcase to raise money for a good cause — and maybe get even after the viral video incident. meanwhile, atsumu is determined to ask you out and, if he's lucky, kiss you properly this time around.

part eleven of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

a/n: a tiny bit of lore, but i used to dance throughout college (and still do to this day), so this one was super fun to write. enjoy! ( ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

"So...what kind of dance does she do again?"

"Uh..." Atsumu blinked down at the bouquet of flowers like they might contain the answer to Suna's question. "Hip-hop, I think?"

Osamu locked his car and shot his twin brother a judgmental glare. "Haven't ya lived with her for, like, eight months now? Shouldn't ya know what type of dance she does?"

"How am I supposed to know?! It's not like she performs for me in the livin' room or anythin'!"

Osamu's face twisted in disgust. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't ya."

Atsumu's face turned beet red. "The fuck is that supposed to mean — ?!"

"To be fair," Aran interjected, ever the pacifist. "Modern dance can blend together a lot of styles — jazz, ballet, hip-hop. It's really not as cut and dry as people think it is."

"See?" Atsumu said, grateful to his team captain for coming to his defense. "It's not as cut and dry as ya think it is!"

Aran gave him a flat stare in return. "Still, I find it baffling that you didn't think to ask."

The four former Inarizaki boys began the long trek from their parallel parking spot to The Bloom Room — a seventies-inspired cocktail lounge nestled in-between campus and downtown. Your university dance troupe had partnered with the small business to host your annual spring showcase, the event doubling as a community-wide fundraiser for a handful of local nonprofits.

Invite the volleyball boys, too! you'd texted Atsumu a few weeks back, along with the link to buy tickets. We need as many people there as possible. The more drinks you buy, the more goes to charity!

Atsumu didn't exactly know who you meant by the 'volleyball boys' — Osamu and Suna didn't really count anymore, and Sakusa wouldn't be caught dead in a place like The Bloom Room. Aran, on the other hand, was a welcome surprise, the captain of the men's volleyball team happily agreeing to go when Atsumu brought it up to him after practice the other day.

"I'll do anything for a good cause," he'd said, though the fluorescent lights of the locker room did nothing to hide his amused expression. "Did you end up wooing her with your extensive knowledge of Pride and Prejudice?"

"I was not tryin' to 'woo' her — I was tryin' to help her with an essay!" Atsumu exclaimed, slamming his locker door shut. "There's a big difference."

"You stopped reading every other sentence just so you could ask me what it meant," Aran said dryly, recalling the two-hour flight back from their first away game. Off the court, he'd never seen Atsumu more concentrated.

Atsumu shot his team captain an offended glare. "At least I finished the damn thing. It got good — ya know, once I got used to all the ol' timey English."

Aran folded his arms across his chest and exhaled slowly. "Look, it's clear you've got feelings for this girl. So in addition to reading her favorite books and kissing her on the cheek after games, why don't you just ask her out?"

The setter shifted uncomfortably on his feet. It wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind before — just that every time it did, it was accompanied by the worst possible outcomes he could think of. Him, finally working up the courage to ask you out. You, laughing in his face. Him, having to sleep in the room next to yours every day while he died of embarrassment. Just thinking about it made Atsumu want to yak.

It was much easier to flirt with you than to actually admit that he liked you, he'd realized. In fact, Atsumu kind of hoped you'd be the first to acknowledge it. He'd dropped more than enough hints for you to catch on.

But as your spring semester continued without so much as a peep, Atsumu realized he didn't have much time left. He needed to fess up to you before you graduated and went on to become a publishing mogul or a Pulitzer Prize winner — or whatever the hell English honors students went on to do after college.

The plan was simple: get you alone after the show, hand you the bouquet he'd spent nearly an hour picking out. Pop the question while somehow keeping his ego intact. Easy peasy.

At least, he thought it was.

"Oh, are you here for Y/N?" a girl with large hoop earrings and a handkerchief for a top said when Atsumu approached the check-in table. "You're her roommate, right? She's told us so much about you!"

"She didn't tell us you'd be bringing a whole team with you," another drawled, twirling a long braid around her perfectly manicured fingers as she sized up his friends. "Sheesh."

Despite himself, a stupid grin broke out on Atsumu's face. "She talks about me?"

The two girls exchanged humored looks from across the table.

"Let's just say she's gonna really love the flowers," the one with the braids replied with a smack of her gum.

"Wish my boyfriend bought me flowers," the one with the earrings chuckled, stamping the back of Atsumu's hand. "Enjoy the show!"

The Bloom Room was bathed in sultry purple lights as Atsumu and his group navigated the crowd of friends and family that had shown up for that evening's showcase. The high-top tables and stools had been cleared out to make room for a dance floor, with rows of folding chairs now lining the perimeter of the space.

"It's awfully intimate, ain't it?" Osamu observed as he sat next to Atsumu in the row closest to the dance floor.

"I'ma grab a drink," Suna quipped, already making a beeline for the bar. Meanwhile, their phones pinged in unison. It was from you.

Are you here yet?? you'd asked in the group chat you had created with all four of them. Did you get good seats?

Atsumu's fingers were already flying across the keyboard.

Yep, front row! Break at leg! Then, before he could stop himself, he added a pink heart emoji and hit send.

"Whoa," Aran said, blinking back at the text message not a moment later. "A heart? Things must be getting pretty serious."

"Shaddup," Atsumu tsked, folding his arms across his chest. At Osamu and Aran's bemused stares, he asked, "What? It ain't the red one! The red one is the serious one!"

"Dunno, man," Aran teased as Osamu stifled his laugh. "A heart's a heart."

Atsumu's confident expression faltered as he said, "W-Well, do ya think it's too much? Should I edit it?

"I think it's a little late for that," Osamu drawled just as their phones pinged again. They all looked down at their screens.

Great! you'd replied, hearting Atsumu's message. Can someone take a video of me pwease?

On it, Suna texted back. He returned a few minutes later with a tequila soda in-hand.

"Dude," he murmured as he sat back down. "What was up with that frilly pink heart? Keep that shit to yourselves."

Atsumu rolled his eyes.

"Good evening, everyone! Take your seats, take your seats," the girl with the hoop earrings said into the microphone as the remainder of the crowd settled in with their drinks. "My name's Mina, and I'd like to personally welcome you to the Silk Club's third annual spring showcase!"

A wave of applause ricocheted through the venue.

"We've got an incredible lineup of talent here tonight representing several on-campus dance orgs, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the show," she said. "As a reminder, all ticket and drink proceeds go towards our city's women's shelter and the center for LGBTQIA+ youth, so I encourage you to get as drunk as humanly possible! It's for a great cause!"

Laughter and applause rippled across the crowd. Beside Atsumu, Suna tipped his cup back until all that was left was ice.

"Now without further ado, I have the pleasure of introducing to you our opening act," Mina continued. "The Silk Club is a group of young women whose mission is to feel empowered and body confident in their dance. This is their third year hosting their annual spring showcase in support of the local nonprofit community, and they are incredibly excited to perform for you all tonight. I myself have been a part of this team for two years now, and I can confidently say there's no other group I'd rather shake ass with to raise money. So without further ado, give it up for Silk!"

The crowd whooped and hollered as several silhouetted figures emerged from the back room and assumed formation on the dance floor. Meanwhile, Atsumu's heart kicked up a notch as he scanned the shadows to find you. Beside him, Osamu frowned.

"Shake ass?" Osamu repeated under his breath. "Don't tell me — "

He was promptly cut off as the opening chords to Mariah Carey's "Obsessed" blared through the speakers, the spotlight flickering on to reveal you — in the tiniest black tube top and skirt — staring back at the audience with a sultry pout on your face.

Aran's eyes widened. Suna nearly choked on his ice. Osamu ran a hand over his face and glanced toward his brother, who — for all intents and purposes — looked like he was about to have a stroke.

Because you were hot. Nay — you were hot as fuck.

And everyone in that room knew it, too.

"I thought she did hip-hop!" Aran yelled over the music as you danced across the floor in your stiletto heels, your confidence radiating with every body roll, every hair flip.

"Dunno what kind of hip-hop you're watching, but this certainly isn't it," Suna shot back dryly, having already hit the record button on his phone.

Except Atsumu wasn't even listening. All that occupied his brain was you. Batting your eyelashes at the audience. Rocking the headscarf you'd styled into your long hair. Touching yourself in places that made Atsumu feel faint. You looked like the seventh member of Katseye, only prettier. How hadn't he known this about you?

"Why you so obsessed with me? Boy, I wanna know..."

The crowd went completely ballistic as all the girls on your team planted their hands on the sticky floor and shook ass in perfect unison. Only then did Atsumu notice the phone in Suna's hands.

"Would ya not film my roommate's ass like that?" he stammered, doing a double-take.

Suna merely shrugged and said, "What? She asked me to."

Then, before Atsumu could argue further, you were sauntering up to him. Soft smile. Pouty lips. Eyes that could disarm him in an instant. You ran a delicate finger along the curve of his jaw, tilted his chin up to look at you. And winked.

For fuck's sake.

"I think you can see the exact moment his soul leaves his body," Suna deadpanned, scrubbing through the video after you and your teammates had struck the final pose to the sounds of ear-splitting applause.

Osamu elbowed his brother in the ribs and said, "Ya alright in there, Tsumu?"

Atsumu just stared at the dance floor as you and your teammates took your bows. Brain empty. Face steadily draining of color. His grip tightened around the bouquet in his lap as he tried to careen himself back to earth.

Asking you out was going to be way harder than he thought.

Atsumu's heart rate more-or-less returned to normal after that, the rest of the show featuring a variety of modern dance crews, cultural clubs, and K-Pop cover groups. Nothing as outrageous as the opener, but perhaps that was for the best. Atsumu didn't need his nervous system compromised for a second time that night — especially with the question he was about to ask you after the show.

The Silk Club closed the showcase with a much tamer, less anxiety-inducing routine to "Rocket" by Doechii, the choreography maintaining your team's signature charm while showcasing your versatility of style. Atsumu cheered for you as you danced your heart out in the center of the room, your energy infectious as the music coursed through your every muscle. From your cheeky smile down to the soles of your sneakers, it was clear you loved being up there. The entire time, Atsumu couldn't stop grinning.

He was the first to give you a standing ovation by the end.

"Seems like Atsumu isn't the only one who can work a crowd," Aran drawled in amusement, standing up so he could clap for you properly. Beside him, Suna snapped about a million pictures.

Osamu merely hummed in agreement and said, "Pretty sure this is the first time he's been more enamored by someone other than himself."

As usual, Atsumu didn't hear a damn thing — just clapped his brother on the shoulder and said, "I'll be right back."

Several families and friend groups had since flooded the dance floor to reunite with their performers, Atsumu shouldering his way through with the bouquet clutched to his chest. Your friend Haru had found you first and was currently gushing to you about your performance, Atsumu maintaining his distance for several nerve-wracking seconds before your eyes eventually latched onto his. Your face broke out into the sunniest smile he'd ever seen, and by God. You were beautiful.

You said goodbye to Haru and made your way towards him. His arms found purchase around your waist as he lifted you several inches off the ground and squeezed you as hard as you could.

"Hi," he murmured into your hair. It smelled of your sweat and shampoo.

"Hi," you whispered back, your voice warm and breathless. "What did you think of the show?"

"I..." Atsumu trailed off, the mental image of you throwing it back flashing across his mind. "I didn't know ya could move like that, that's for sure."

A chuckle rumbled out of you as he set you down. You adjusted the oversized jersey you had changed into for the finale and said, "Yeah. I'm a little embarrassed that you and your friends got a full view of my ass, but it's whatever."

"Well, for what it's worth, it looked good." Then, after realizing what the fuck he'd just said, "You. Y-You looked good, I meant. Shit."

You were full-on laughing at this point. "That's high praise, coming from the king of low sets himself."

The tips of his ears turned red as he finally remembered the bouquet in his hands.

"These are for ya," he said, watching your eyes soften as he gave them to you. You lifted your nose to the assortment of wildflowers like you did with all of your books. "Ya looked incredible up there, Y/N. Seriously."

"...thank you, Tsumu." A shy smile worked its way onto your features before you admitted, "No one's ever gotten me flowers before."

"Ya bein' serious right now?" he asked, equal parts surprised and pleased with himself. You nodded. "Well, that's only cause ya haven't invited the right people before."

You rolled your eyes. "The right people being you?"

"Damn straight," he said, already reaching for you a second time. "Come 'ere."

He wrapped his arms around you in the middle of the crowded dance floor, his cheek resting against the crowd of your head. Relaxing into his embrace, you listened to his heartbeat through this shirt. Steady. Grounding. A little fast. But then again, so was yours.

You craned your neck to look him in the eye. He gazed down at you like you were the only other person in that entire room.

Pulse picking up speed, Atsumu slowly leaned in until he was a mere breath away from grazing your lips against his.

But before he could kiss you, someone was already calling your name.

"Y/N!" Mina hollered, the both of you jumping backwards like two guilt-ridden teenagers. She scanned the dense crowd from the front of the room like a mother who'd just lost her child at the zoo. "Y/N, where the hell are ya?! We're taking a group picture!"

Clearing his throat, Atsumu adjusted the collar of his jacket and tried to channel whatever nonchalance was left in his body. Beside him, you haphazardly tried to fix your hair. The two of you locked eyes once more and, gradually, started to laugh.

"Go," Atsumu said, jerking his chin towards your teammates. "Don't keep 'em waiting."

Mashing your lips together, you looked like you wanted to argue. But your teammates were already calling your name.

"Come out to eat with us afterwards?" you offered, a hopeful expression on your face. "I think a handful of us are going to that new Korean spot downtown. You can bring the boys, too."

Chuckling, Atsumu nodded. "Sure. We'll be there."

"...okay," you eventually managed. It did little to mask the dazed, if not mildly disappointed expression on your face. "I'll see you soon."

And with that, you disappeared into the crowd.

"Ya boys in the mood for Korean food?" Atsumu asked his friends when he found them lingering outside the restrooms.

"Why, what happened?" Osamu asked, shooting his brother a grin. "Yer plan fall through?"

"Yep," Atsumu quipped, throwing an arm around Osamu's shoulders. "I'm 'bout to drown my sorrows in an army stew."

"At least you gave her the bouquet," Aran offered, drying his damp hands on his jeans. "You only spent half the afternoon trying to pick it out."

"Seriously," Suna mumbled, eyes never leaving his phone. "You owe us dinner for the amount of moral support we're showing you right now."

The three of them debated how many dishes to order the entire car ride there. Meanwhile, Atsumu stared out the window, wondering when the hell he'd be able to get you alone.

"I never thought I'd see the day someone actually outdrank Mina," you giggled, fumbling with your keys to the apartment. "How much soju did Suna have?"

"I dunno, but he was scarily composed after all those domino shots," Atsumu murmured as you both entered through the front door and turned on all the lights. "Passed out like a light in the backseat, though."

Even though he'd barely managed to talk to you during dinner, it was surprisingly fun to see you relax for once. You were excited to introduce Atsumu and his friends to the people you had danced with for the past several months, grateful to see everyone get along so well in between spoonfuls of bubbling hot pot.

"It's nice to finally meet the best roommate she's ever had," Mina had teased, already four shots in. She flung a sweaty arm around your shoulders and said, "Her words, not mine!"

At that, Atsumu raised an eyebrow and grinned. "The best, huh?"

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he swore your face turned two shades redder at that.

Now, Atsumu watched from across the kitchenette as you meticulously trimmed the flowers he'd gotten for you, your fingers nimble as you arranged each one into a vase. The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the silence between you, along with the rhythmic snip of your scissors.

Without looking up, you said, "You're staring."

"Am I?" Atsumu drawled, a smile toying on his lips. "Was just admirin’ yer makeup. Is that what they call a full beat?"

You nearly choked on your laughter. "Where did you learn that from? TikTok?"

He lifted a noncommittal shoulder. "I have my sources."

Smiling, you said, "Well, would you be so kind as to grab my makeup remover from the bathroom? I've been dying to get this off."

Five minutes later, Atsumu poured himself a glass of water as you tried removing your eye makeup with a soaked cotton round, a dark streak of eyeliner now smudged halfway across your face.

"Did I get it?" you asked, blinking at Atsumu from where you sat atop the kitchen counter. Laughing, he put down his glass and began wiping it himself.

"I like when you look like this," he confessed, gently dragging the cotton round across your skin.

Frowning, you said, "Like a rabid raccoon?"

"No, ya twerp. Ya know what I mean."

You didn't say anything for a long while as he continued removing your makeup. You felt your face warm beneath his touch as he did so.

"Thank you for coming to the showcase tonight."

"Of course. I wouldn't have missed it for the world." Then, after a brief pause, "Ya know, as the best roommate you've ever had."

You groaned. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

"Not a chance," Atsumu drawled. He cupped your cheeks with both of his hands and inspected your face from different angles beneath the warm kitchen lights. "There. Squeaky clean."

Neither of you moved as you realized just how close you'd gotten to each other. You, your knees grazing against his torso. Him, the warmth of his palms sending a pulse of electricity down your spine.

"Atsumu..." you breathed, your voice merely a croak.

"...yeah?" he managed, brown eyes searching yours for something — anything — to indicate that you wanted him closer.

"...is there a reason you're always so nice to me?"

Lips parting, he said, "I think ya know why."

You closed the gap and kissed him not a moment later.

Now, Atsumu had imagined what it would be like to kiss you — had even dreamt about it, embarrassingly enough. But nothing, nothing compared to the way your lips worked against his now, each movement slow. Deliberate. Almost like you were asking a question.

You like me? you seemed to ask, fingers curling into his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Atsumu merely cupped the back of your head and deepened the kiss, the feeling of his tongue against yours extinguishing all doubt from your mind.

Yes, he thought, melting into you completely. Yes. I always have.

He braced his hands on either side of the kitchen counter, boxing you in. Your hands slid into his hair. A low moan escaped the back of his throat when you parted your legs for him and wrapped them around his waist. Fuck. He couldn't believe this was happening right now.

But before he let himself fall any further, he had one thing left to ask.

"Wait — wait," he stammered, pulling away from you suddenly. Lips swollen. Hair disheveled. Heart hammering in his chest.

At your confused expression, he asked, "Will ya go to dinner with me?"

Your chest rose and fell as a bemused expression crossed your features. "Are you asking me out right now?"

Atsumu gulped back and said, "I just...I wanna be sure I do this right."

Heart twinging at his words, your hands gently traveled down from his hair to cup both of his cheeks.

"You know, I thought you'd never ask," you drawled, eyes gleaming in adoration as you beheld him. Your roommate. Your friend. Your best friend, if you were being totally honest. "I'd love to."

The stupid grin that broke out on his face had you pulling him in for another kiss.

a/n: thank you for the love on these past couple of chapters, y'all! i'm slowly but surely responding to messages and comments — but in the meantime, please know that i appreciate all of you for reading this sappy lil' fic of mine. it means the world to me.

(next chapter will cover atsumu and y/n's first date mwahaha. stay tuned.)

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[solarstranger]

CHAPTER 1 | I HOPE YOU SEE (RIGHT THROUGH ME)

w.c. 1.2k

tags. minors dni. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (23), some cussing (it's not bakugou's internal monologue if there aren't any), suicide-related deaths (see series synopsis for more details), discussions of suicide, canon-typical descriptions of violence

a/n. welcome to another series by yours truly!!!! i know i still have that body swap one in the queue, and while i am planning on working on that, this series' premise just spoke to me and i was emboldened to write it as soon as i could. i'm writing this as i go, though, so the posting schedule is likely gonna be erratic, but i promise i'll try to write this consistently. anyway, i'd absolutely love to hear what you think throughout the process, so please don't be a stranger and talk to me!

links. masterlist, ao3

Somehow, he’s wound up in the emergency room of Musutafu’s highly renowned Central Hospital.

Which, if he had the energy left to really think about it, is not particularly an unusual occurrence. He’s been here—and other similar hospitals—enough to have a general blueprint of the corridors etched in his mind, as well as the basic rules they shared and protocols that were strictly followed. Stuff like how phone calls are prohibited, fatigued doctors specializing in emergency medicine are perpetually present, and how—for a place supposedly and rightfully dubbed with the ‘emergency’ title—the staff sure don’t seem to have a whole lot of sense of urgency.

Although he supposes he’d rather have that than be in a room teeming with frantic energy. Maybe they’re doing it on purpose, actually, for the sake of the patients who get rolled in.

Except right now, he was not a patient.

He was technically not a guardian, either, though the disheveled-looking middle-aged man blatantly staring at him from a few rows up front is most definitely thinking otherwise.

Well, then.

Acutely aware of the unwanted attention, Bakugou shifts uncomfortably in his seat, wincing ever so slightly when the connected metal chairs to his right creak loudly with the motion. It doesn’t help that he’s still in his hero clothes—although he’s aware there’s no point in mulling over it now; after all, he didn’t exactly have the time to do a costume change with all the shit that went down.

Not that he’s exactly sure what that ‘shit’ even was.

It all happened too fast.

One minute, he was walking down his regular patrol route down Shizuoka’s famous tallest bridge—cursing the unbearable summer heat and the dehydration-induced headaches that it brought with it; the next, he was jumping off of it.

He even boosted himself with his quirk to aid gravity in his free fall, but to no avail.

Your body had already collided with the ground by the time he could grab your wrist.

The moments that passed after that are even more of a blur now. He doesn’t know how he did it, but after what seemed like an eternity of merely staring at your limp, bloody body, Bakugou was able to pull out his phone and call 119. The medics arrived shortly after, maybe in a span of five minutes, but to him it felt like more.

It took everything within him not to just haul your body and propel you to the nearest hospital.

Because if someone died under his watch…

“Mr. Dynamight?”

Bakugou startles, looking up from where he was blankly staring at his intertwined, scarred hands. At the sight of a white coat-clad woman, the pro-hero immediately stands up, nodding, turning to face the brunette with his full attention.

“Hi,” the doctor greets, “It’s come to my understanding that you’re the one who called in regarding Patient—” she trails off, looking down at her clipboard to double-check, before saying your name in a question. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” Bakugou rasps roughly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “Uh, yes, doc.”

The doctor nods. “Were you on patrol when you found her?”

Close, the voice in Bakugou’s head retorts without missing a beat. I saw her fucking jump.

Instead of saying all that out loud, however, the ash-blonde only nods wordlessly.

The woman hums. “Okay, then. Well, her parents are still on the way here, and normally we’d let them know first, but given the nature of your involvement and your occupation, I might as well inform you.”

Instantly, Bakugou finds himself bracing for what’s next.

The doctor presses her lips in a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, shaking her head solemnly. “She didn’t make it.”

Dead on arrival.

You were dead on arrival.

At least, that’s what the doctors told him when he pressed them for more. He couldn’t tell if they were hesitant about divulging further information about you aside from the basics or just simply in the dark themselves, seeing as how they only had your wallet that they found on your person to go from. Either way, Bakugou decided it didn’t matter as soon as an older couple burst through the doors of the emergency room—a good half hour later—whom he immediately identified as your parents.

Needless to say, he hightailed it out of there.

The last thing he needed was to be the unfortunate bearer of bad news, or worse, be recognized as the reason why their daughter is currently lying lifeless in one of the hospital’s private rooms.

After that, he couldn’t remember much of his actions, only that he somehow decided to head to the agency. The entire flight down to his office, he stuck his good ear out for any signs of ringing from his phone, which surprisingly—or unsurprisingly—didn’t come.

Which makes sense.

He’s heard stories before. Exchanged in hushed whispers back in the UA dormitory, and uttered in low voices in the agencies he worked at as a sidekick. About how suicide cases in the country are criminally underreported—not just because of the stigma surrounding the act, but because the police allegedly make it a point to conceal such cases, away from the media’s prying eyes and before it gets blown out of proportion by the public.

Hakamada told him it was most likely to prevent the occurrence of suicide clusters, to which Bakugou scoffed instinctively, granting him a reprimanding look from his mentor.

But really, could anyone blame him?

The idea seemed stupid then.

If he killed himself for whatever reason, he sure didn’t want his death to be treated as some sort of curse, talked about only when people think no one’s watching.

There’s nothing more pitiful than fading away without leaving a single trace, after all.

But now, as he sits in the quiet dark of his agency’s office—the building silent if not for the gentle whirring of his air conditioner—Bakugou finds himself oddly grateful.

Because…

Because.

He wouldn’t know what he’d do if he had to face the press about what just happened.

He’s not sure how long he sat spaced out in his office, but by the time he’s inserting his lone copy of his key into the door knob, it’s already two hours past midnight, and the exhaustion from the day’s events has finally made itself known in the form of muscle aches and a throbbing migraine.

Bakugou doesn’t try to fight the sigh of relief that wracks his body the second he hears the lock click, his movements automatic as he pushes the door open with his side, left hand reaching out in the dark until it lands on and presses against the switch.

As if on cue, light floods the living room slash kitchen of Bakugou’s apartment unit, a sight so mundanely familiar that he doesn’t even blink at first.

Just—drags his aching feet towards the foyer where he toes off his sneakers and drops his duffel bag, which he swears he’ll collect the first thing tomorrow morning.

But then that’s when it happens.

Bakugou barely catches it—the movement at the corner of his eye—but he does.

And when he does—glance to look at it—he blanches.

Because sitting on his sofa is no other than a ghost.

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don’t do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i’d love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ

[bigheartbuck]

i keep these longings locked

part i part ii mentions of abbytommy/tommy-centric/eventual bucktommy

tw: internalized homophobia/homophobic language

I promise the next bit is going to be more lighthearted!

tag list: @sweaters-and-silly (lmk if you wanna be added too) ______________________________

His chest is tight as fuck. Tommy breathes through it. Head between his knees, feels his pulse uncomfortably loud and present in his neck. Lockers have emptied out mostly. His vision is swimming. He feels like throwing up.

"Kinard? Oh shit, hey."

He can hear fast footsteps, and then a warm, big hand on his shoulder. "You got it," the voice says and Tommy's brain is desperately trying to place it. His hands are shaking. "Inhale.... hold your breath, three, two, one, ....exhale. Good. Again, come on."

By the time Tommy emerges from what feels like the deepest, darkest sea and comes up for air, he's realized that the warm hand and firm voice belong to his new captain. Hen had given him a week tops. But Nash has persevered. Four weeks and counting. Tommy would've rather been found dead before ever letting Gerrard see him like this but Nash has a softness to him. His whole lets have dinner together shtick, his we're a family and we ride together pathos, his unwavering determination to make them act like a team -- Tommy's not sure he quite fits in there. Right now, though, he's glad it's Nash who found him like this and not Howie or Hen. They'd stage an intervention immediately.

Nash hands him a water bottle, sits down next to him. "Better?"

Tommy lets out a shaky breath. “Thanks cap. I, uh, I don’t know what just happened." He rubs his hand across his face. “I don’t usually get… like this.” He forces a smile. "Guess it was a couple of tough calls."

Nash eyes him, somewhat curiously. Several beats. "Everything alright at home?" Tommy shrugs. He should go home. Sleep it off. He meets Nash's steady gaze, but there's a flicker of genuine concern. Tommy can't handle it, Nash's empathy.

"Yeah. Everything's good," he lies and reaches for his bag. Nash stops him. "Not so fast. I uh -- I'd been meaning to talk to you."

Tommy blinks, confused, his hand still hovering near the strap of his bag. He’s not sure where this is going. "Uh oh," he says dryly. His pulse is still racing and only slowly returning to normal. "Am I being fired, too?" Deluca is still pissed at Nash but Tommy knows it was the right call. He's been putting in the work, though. Doing his part. It would be really shitty timing for Nash to let him go as well.

Nash’s gaze sharpens for a moment, like he’s sizing Tommy up, and then he exhales softly. “No, you’re not getting fired.” He pauses, like he’s choosing his words carefully. Tommy's shoulders relax. "But?" he asks.

"But..." Nash continues, "I've been wondering if maybe you're not exactly who you're supposed to be."

"That so?" Tommy asks, aiming for casual. Nash doesn't know, does he? Fuck. He wonders sometimes if it's all over his face. Tommy Kinard thinks about kissing boys. Tommy Kinard is a queer. Don't ask, don't tell. But look at him, he tries so hard to be a big guy but he'd take it lying down, wouldn't he? Fuck. He needs to get his dad's voice out of his head. It's funny, the way he is still such a fuck up. How he tried to make it work so hard and how he still failed. He would've given everything to be happy with Abby.

He juts his chin forward. Nash looks at him with so much kindness it makes Tommy want to crawl out of his skin.

"You're a pilot," his captain says, oblivious to the dark spiral of Tommy's mind. Tommy exhales. Breathe. For fuck's sake. Breathe.

"And you're competent, skilled, you're quick. I'd love to keep you here. But I keep thinking maybe you belong elsewhere. And I hear the Harbor is looking for someone like you."

Tommy must look genuinely surprised because Nash lets out a huffed laugh. Tommy hasn't considered flying in years. "Seriously?"

Nash nods. "You're one of my best. But I saw the way you lit up when we called in air support last week. You loved working with them. So, my guess is, that's where your heart is."

Tommy thinks no one's ever paid attention to him like this before. His stomach unknots slowly. Shoulders uncurl.

"I'll -- I'll think about it."

Nash squeezes his shoulder. "You should. It can feel like suffocating. Denying yourself what you want."

Tommy stares down at his hands.

"Yes, cap," he says, throat working.

"Bobby." Nash points to the jeans he's wearing. "Off shift. I'm just Bobby."

"Bobby." Tommy echoes. His legs still feel like jelly.

He takes a few sips from the water. "I might --" His tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

"I might have to look for a new place soon."

He hasn't talked to Abby yet. But he needs to, has to. He wakes up, shirt soaked through with sweat at least twice a night. The darkest, deepest sea in his mind and his father's voice are so hard to turn off. He can't live like this anymore. He's been googling apartments. Abby doesn't even know yet.

"I really uh --" Tommy doesn't know why he keeps talking. "I tried to make a good thing work and it didn't work."

Bobby nods. "And that's causing the panic attacks?" He asks it matter of factly.

Tommy clears his throat. "One panic attack." Lie. But Bobby doesn't have to know or be right about everything. "And I guess --" He hesitates. "Gotta figure out some stuff. Big stuff."

Bobby doesn't say anything for a while. Keeps his gaze steady. Tommy thinks he could probably confide in him. Bobby would see the ugly, dark, twistedness of Tommy's insides and tell him it was okay. That it gets better. And the thing is, Tommy knows. He knows. He saw some kid online the other day on YouTube. They were what, 15? When Tommy was 15 -- well. He's mid thirties now, not any less terrified. It's difficult to explain, out loud. How his head works. How the stuff that goes for others, doesn't apply to him. How he's less deserving of it.

"The big stuff," Bobby says after a while. He looks at Tommy, face open. He says it like a question, gently prompting Tommy to continue.

Tommy's eyes prickle. He should go.

He exhales. "Yeah. Been pretending to be... Someone I'm not."

He's a teenager and his dad caught him with a magazine of naked men and his hand down his pants. He's in the army and Micah is kissing him. He's 34 and engaged to a beautiful woman and he feels nothing when she shakes around him.

His mouth is dry as cotton.

Bobby squeezes his shoulder. "I hear you." A beat. "Don't need to say anything else."

They sit like this for a little while longer. Then, Tommy gathers his things, shoulders his bag. The ground feels a little less shaky. His knees don't buckle. He'll find an apartment. And he'll tell Abby.

"Kinard," Bobby says when Tommy's already at the door. Tommy turns around. "Promise me you'll think about transferring, yeah? Go after what you want?"

Tommy huffs out a laugh. Shakes his head. His chest is lighter. "Aye aye cap." He gives a half hearted mock salute. What he means to say is thank you.

He's pretty sure Bobby hears it anyway.

On the way home, at a red light stop, a jeep comes to a halt next to his car. A guy leans out of the window and asks for directions to the LAFD training academy. He's young. Bright smile, short blond hair. Tommy tells him where to go and the guy thanks him profusely. "Starting a new chapter," he says enthusiastically and adjusts his backwards hat. Out of his stereo Tommy can hear hip hop blaring. Eminem. "Me, too" Tommy shouts back and watches the lights switch to orange. "Good luck then!" the guy shouts over the revving engine and grins. "See you around!"

Tommy laughs.

"You, too!"

Lights turn green.

[bohnerrific69]

Peter Maximoff with baby fever just feels like a deadly combo. Like, he gets the itching to make a mini mutant of his own, and suddenly - head empty, balls equally as empty, and his partner is all soft and squirmy beside him, oh noooo

warnings: SMUT / MDNI +18. older!peter mention. fem!reader. breeding kink. / sorry for the smut not having so much details, this wasn't supposed to be this long!! only a lil blurb. english is not my first language. — ( peter's mlist. )

a/n: anon, we think the same! 😈 i always have a squeal and s/cream (pun intended) when i think about peter + breeding kink, he's SO family oriented, he's the kind of guy to always enters his thirties craving for a family, this is a thing i just can't see him being at this age not wanting that!! my bad!! always foaming at the mouth with the barely thought of getting his partner preg. (this is officially the first smut thingy i publish, pls be nice😭)

it's a thing that started small, prowling his mind since his late twenties, when he already put you with the 'girlfriend' title for a long while. both of you were watching a romance movie that you suggested, with the classical happy ending of the main couple getting together and starting a family, the female protagonist showing in the last scenes with a big round belly of pregnancy and a happy smile on her face looking at her husband and their kids.

and as usual, both of you were talking the entire movie, doing jokes or casually yapping about a topic that didn't involve the movie at all, but still paying attention. peter didn't know where it was coming from the sudden familiar hot wave burning his body from the down to the top, principally the region between his legs, feeling his cock straighten in his shorts.

it was typical of him getting turned on in inconvenient moments, even despite the most control he achieved since teenage years with his powers on his body. not letting quick horny random thoughts make him turn on all the sudden. but this time, it wasn't his thoughts, they were yours.

being too focused in the ending scenes of the movie made you start babbling about how it would be if you were pregnant like that in the scenario of the movie, some loud thoughts you didn't said as a hint at all!

it was silly, you were so focused looking at the tv that you didn't even notice peter uncomfortably adjusting his shorts. you both matched each other's freaks, a movie session casually turning into a sex session very quickly was the standard for you both, but this time you were very naive to his hungry gaze and hitched breath.

imagining you all swollen carrying his baby did a number on his mind. he thought he was insane for that. no, you never would let him be yours baby daddy's would you? despite loving your relationship, peter still had some insecure feelings about himself not being enough for you to marry. imagine creating a family right now? too much and early, probably.

but this didn't stop him from getting feral about the possible scenario, ending up with your face in the cushions and ass up on the couch in seconds. peter was fucking you more rough and intense than you could expect to his normal mood seconds before, it was raw, just how you both enjoyed it.

he was thrusting harshly like he was shoving down those absurd thoughts into you as the same in the back of his mind. he still tried to deny the absurd desire of knocking you up, but the more he tried, the faster and harder he got. making you both hit your peak it didn't take that long, finishing with you full of his seed in your womb and practically all numb and trembling on the couch.

time would pass and this craving of knocking you up only grew up, as your relationship too, his lucky thirties years old still having you by his side, you taking the 'wife' title now. peter couldn't handle the desire anymore, he wasn't in doubt of himself anymore, or in denial about wanting to have a family with you, he was sure and wouldn't disappoint.

both already agreed about that, he would come everytime after a mission with a big hungry of you, always arriving home and fucking you . grunting and moaning loud about "putting a baby in you." craving to the time he would arrive home and see you with a swollen belly by carrying his child.

and the day this happens? you being mother of his children? it would be the sexiest thing you could do to him. he still would crave for you as the same when he met you. his powers gave him the blessing of having a big stamina, being able to fuck rounds after rounds as much you could take it when the kids weren't home. he's a passionate man.

🏷 taglist (be added): @cult-lamb @evanpetersbf @h0neyst4rz @homicidal-mother @marchsfreakshow @melsimps @mysticsandmagic05 @nugg4tsdeer @strawb3rrystar @wcnderlnds @xxrei222 @xrag-dollx

[hamzahsbiggestfan]

ARE YOU SCARED ?

pairing succubus!reader and best friend!hamzah

⤷ summary : in a small, rotting town where nothing ever changes, except the bodies piling up. you, a cursed succubus bound by a pact you don’t remember making, hunger for more than just flesh and blood. after a tragic fire at a local show unleashes something ancient inside you, your thirst becomes insatiable. you kill, you feed, and you try not to feel anything. but hamzah does. your best friend since childhood, smart, quiet, always there hamzah has watched you slip through the cracks of who you used to be. he knows you’re not the same. he sees the blood. smells it. but he can’t turn away.

⤷ warnings : this series contains of blood, killing, cannibalism, drugs, smut, and angst, if any of those topics make you uncomfortable, i’m not forcing you to read.

PART FIVE - what rain couldn’t wash

a/n : ok we’re finally getting to the good part. also he wants that cookie BAD

That night, it rained. The kind of rain that didn’t wash anything clean—just made it harder to breathe.

You didn’t go home. You ended up wandering until the streetlights buzzed like dying insects and your shoes were soaked through. You weren’t even sure where your body was taking you until you were there: Hamzah’s porch.

His bedroom window was cracked open. You could hear music—low, familiar. A playlist he only listened to when things felt like they were slipping. You remembered the last time he played it. The night after your funeral.

You shouldn’t be here. You’d already taken too much.

You were about to leave when the door opened.

He didn’t look surprised. Not really.

“Can I come in?” you asked, even though you were already halfway inside.

Hamzah stepped aside. “Yeah.”

You didn’t speak again until you were in his room, dripping onto the rug, surrounded by the smell of him. Clean laundry. Cough drops. Pine from that dumb candle he never lit but kept anyway.

“You kissed me,” he said, like it still hurt.

You nodded. “I wasn’t lying.”

He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes on the floor. “Then why did it feel like goodbye?”

Because it was supposed to be.

But the truth—it sat behind your ribs, hot and slick and aching to get out. You weren’t strong enough to say it.

So you knelt between his legs.

“Hamzah,” you whispered, fingertips sliding up his thighs, “tell me to stop.”

He looked down at you like he was already drowning.

“I can’t,” he breathed.

Then you kissed him again.

This time, he didn’t pull away.

His hands found your face, hesitant, then hungrier. You moved together like you’d been waiting your whole life for it—like the end of the world had already happened and this was the last real thing left.

When you climbed into his lap, your hips fit too easily against his. When he moaned into your mouth, your teeth grazed his bottom lip like you wanted to taste it.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel like fire.”

You smiled against his throat.

You rolled your hips, slow and deep, and he gasped—hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise. His hoodie was still damp from the rain, so you peeled it off him, then your own soaked shirt, until skin met skin.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m starving.”

And it was true—your hunger curled around your spine like a second skeleton. But you didn’t want to feed. Not like that. Not from him.

So you kissed him again, deeper, slower. Let the ache blur into something softer. Let the wanting settle into something human.

He whispered your name like it was something sacred. Like it still belonged to you.

When he finally sank into you, it felt like drowning and breathing at the same time. He held you like he didn’t care if it killed him. Maybe he didn’t.

“Is it still you?” he whispered.

You didn’t answer. Just moved against him like it was the only truth you had left.

You didn’t come apart—

you unraveled.

Together.

After, you curled into him, half-naked and shaking. Your mouth tasted like blood. Your fingertips tingled with hunger.

You bit your tongue hard enough to cry.

Hamzah brushed hair from your face. He looked half-ruined, but he still touched you like you were soft.

“Whatever you are,” he said, “I’m not scared.”

But he should be.

Because your chest was rising too fast. Your throat burned again.

And deep beneath your skin, the hunger was waking up.

You slipped out of his bed before the sun rose. You left without a sound.

By the time he woke, you were gone.

But your scent still lingered on his sheets.

And your blood was still under his fingernails.

taglist : @screamertannie @blair3claire @giuliannna @prttyinpink7 @xoxoange1l @hamzahswhispers @weirdogirl888 @isathefantastic @lil-elliesgf @pictureperfectblue @odessa444 @chickie-nuggets-h0 @h-yalexaaaa @viviansturns @xoxoomel @babyd0ll3 @grrrfrogs @xxalemn

[chaifootsteps]

Honestly, I've been holding back on saying it because I thought it'd make me sound crazy, but now that she's mentioned the latest season being unintentionally "topical"... My theory is, and honestly has been (heh) since I saw Vox hypnotize a crowd he already has total control over influence wise and who don't at all doubt what he's saying, is that, Vox is going to be a rapist in S2 with Val, and his only victim will be Angel Dust. There's already the leak of Angel with Vox hypnotic eyes and being tied up to a chair, but Raph is really into that shit too. You can tell if you look at, again, the Red Smoke comic. The end implies Angel is about to be hypnotized into having no agency or even memory over whatever will happen to him next. And I can already see it now - if this is what happens, then fans are going to justify how this show makes a CEO a completely all powerful hypnotism wielding sexual assaulter (who probably won't be defeated by the end of the season in a meaningful way,) by saying it's either a good way to show the cruel reality of this in Hollywood. Except, A) It doesn't usually happen to femboy twinks who kill people for fun, and, B) They also don't need to hypnotize people to have such a predatory advantage over them. They use things like contracts, drugs, or gifts, like Val has with Angels porn star contract, fueling his drug addiction, and his pet, Fat Nuggets. All the things that could show meaningful growth from an abuser are right there, but we can't get rid of them, because Viv needs gooner bait of her drug joke making sex spider, which means we need to ring out his contract for the rest of the series, no matter what! If the show is trying to be realistic, since it's been a reflection of reality so far, then this is where it's suddenly dropping the ball. For the writers barely disguised fetish that the victim seemingly can't escape from, but the show will likely frame as him being strong for putting up with, when more people would understandably realize how horrific it is if a woman acted like this about her sadistically sexual abusers. Plus, what the fuck is Angel supposed to do to avoid this, as opposed to the other examples in the show I listed? Wear a tinfoil hat to work everyday? I know that Vox has always had the hypno eye since the pilot, but nothing about the Instagrams, the Pilot, or even the prequel comic, ever implied he could hypnotize people. It was just a popular headcanon from the fandom Viv wanted to incorporate for indulgences sake only. Besides, why would the biggest tech CEO in hell NEED to hypnotize people to make them convinced of his good intentions they already don't doubt anyway? I always anticipated this happening, but if it actually does, then maybe it'll be a good thing. Maybe more people will realize Viv has a rape fetish, and that Viv will never look at the reality of what brings men like that in power in real life, how vile they can truly be, and how they aren't always conventionally attractive, or cartoonish and pathetic. Also, she'll probably drive away more Vox fans in favor of VoxValAngel gooner softcore porn. If this all happens, someone owes me twenty bucks. (Viv should owe me twenty bucks.)

I'll join you in that bet. Odds are high that Viv and Raph are about to pluck another scene straight out of Red Smoke, then scream down survivors who point this out and say that they're uncomfortable with it.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s8 episode 13 “per manum” thoughts

guys... it is per manum time.

i’m SHAKING over here, omfgggg. i’m ready. but also, and in a very real sense, i am NOT. 

so, i know a little bit about what happens in this episode… but not much. i’m excited and nervous and a bunch of other things.

i’m curious to see if doggett will be here today, or if he got the day off after so many scully absences

let’s GO! i’m ready to CRY!!!

(post-episode thoughts: Y'ALL... this might be my longest post yet. if it isn't, it is definitely up there in a place of honor, like second or third.

so, i pinpointed the exact moment i fell in love with doggett, because anyone who wants to save scully is absolutely swoon-worthy to me. GOD, his loyalty... and then i fell MORE in love with him at the last scene over how gentle he was. god. oh my god. i'm down bad for a guy named john.

there is SO much to unpack here, and i will do my very best. but just... i'm crying. i love them. i want them to all be happy.

i was so SAD!!! because scully and doggett were both upset, and doggett didn't know why she was acting like that, and he seemed really hurt because the truth is very important to him, and scully was SUFFERING AGAIN, OH MY GOD???? WHEN DOES SHE GET REST?! in the present day AND IN THE FLASHBACK SCENES!!!! which i ALSO HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT!!

but in the end, the big secret i was wondering how long would last was disclosed, even if terrifying new possibilities were raised (and if the plot is... confusing). and now, hopefully they can understand each other better and be partners with full trust in each other...

except, she might still be going MIA for a bit, so who even knows if they will get a CHANCE to be proper trusting partners? and even if they are, it will still hurt because he isn't mulder... *breaks down in sobs again*

she just wanted it to be okay. and then her... the way she... and he... gestures vaguely and cries more.

i need to just get started or i'll begin analyzing the whole episode before i even under the "read more" line. wow... a lot to say. genuinely tearing up, it isn't even hyperbole. they fucked me up with this one)

we begin with a “previously, on the x files…”, which means shit is gonna go DOWN

so let us begin with the uncomfortable recap of scully’s abduction arc and the rows of human ova. yeah. it still icks me tf out. i’ll have to write a think piece on that someday. and mulder plucking hers up. 

and crying scully telling skinner that the impossible has happened!!

yes, yes, i remember all of this. 

okay. now some other lady is giving birth. this feels intimate. i’m not sure i’m supposed to be seeing all of this. 

oh god, i’m gonna have to watch scully do this at some point…

LMAO, girl... i think you’re past the point of starting over tomorrow, kath. 

(reminds me of that time one of my teachers in high school told me she was screaming about not wanting to do this anymore while in labor. and i was like yeah, dawg, i am not doing that shit. why did she tell me that? we were in geometry)

okay, um, where were we?

the nurse is checking, the monitor is going sicko mode, and the doctor comes in and click click clicks on the computer. and declares there must be an emergency c section! she’s freaking out! naturally!! she doesn’t know wtf is wrong! 

he says they’ll take care of it. 

the father of the baby (named duffy) leaves for a second to scrub up, but the doctors LOCK THE DOOR ON HIM. guys, that is NOT COOL, you said he could be there??? 

needles needles, no, no, no, ma’am... she’s begging them not to let anything happen 

EAUGHHHHH, i don’t wanna see the surgery... no no no nooooo nooo la la la, i don’t like it, nooo

she says she can’t feel anything and something must be wrong and i am lightheaded. woohooooo. okay. okay. hang in there, hang the fuck in there.

girl, i can’t look, why is there squirming... she wants to seeeeee

they take the baby out, but it’s not normal, like it’s weird... but okay, a lot of babies are weird.

oh. it sounds like a goat though. that isn’t super normal, i don’t think, but what do i know?

ohhhh, it is an alien, okay, yeah. well. that’ll do it 

she wanted her husband back!!

damn. alien baby. fucked up.

reading my notes back like that is actually super funny. let us take deep and calming breaths as the theme music relaxes us.

intro time. our boy mulder is here today, EVERYBODY CHEER!

still taking deep breaths. paranormal activity. scully serve. baby. moon. mulder falling. eyeball. truth is out there. let’s get fucking going!!!!

we open with an ultrasound photo! scully seeing the baby!! trying to judge if she is showing yet. don’t worry girl, you've got a little bit more time before you have to tell people, lmao. but you're cutting it close.

GOD, i cannot believe she is gonna have a baby... i’m gonna CRY.

she’s staring in the mirror. trying not to tear up. i'm in pain.

goes down to her office. and down there is duffy! the husband from before! who was having an appointment with doggett!!

oh no, he says he knows her. is he going to spill everything…?

oh, he contacted her 8 years ago. yeah, so that actually was not her he spoke with, then. he talked to mulder about his wife being abducted by aliens. but now she is dead.

he just keeps saying she is dead, she is dead, she gave birth to an alien. doggett confirms that he did write to mulder years ago. doggett is watching her. she asks him to start from the beginning. they sit down.

kath was a multiple abductee. one procedure would give her cancer, another would cure her. close up on scully’s face. continued closeup as he says they implanted an alien embryo in kath.

she asks for medical proof, and he passes an ultrasound, saying that anyone with a trained eye can see it is weird. especially for a woman who was never supposed to be able to conceive.

it looks blurry to me, but that’s about it? again, what do i know.

he says they’ve gone through 3 sets of doctors. they killed his wife and stole her alien baby. doggett is still watching.

scully says they’ll be in touch and seems very thrown off.

OH GOD. things are tense:

“thank you, agent doggett. i’m sure the rest of my afternoon can’t possibly be so amusing”

“i thought you’d find it interesting, actually” he sits down.

“interesting? as in preposterous and outrageous?”

“well, unless i’m mistaken, you already knew that man’s story”

she looks confused

“the abduction, the tests, a bout with cancer, then a remission”

“what exactly are you getting at?” she walks closer

oh my god, my blood is running COLD

“that’s your story, agent scully. i’d say right down to a tee”

DON’T ATTACK HIM SCULLY, HE DOESN’T KNOWWWW... there are tears in her eyes and her mouth is open

“i mean, except for the pregnancy” she keeps staring. “it’s all right there in the x files” 

he seems confused and she seems confused we are all confused. she turns to stare at the files. yeah, he did read 'em all. and he just wanted to HELPPPPPP, MY GOD....

“well, i appreciate your thoroughness, agent doggett, and your familiarity with the x files cases in those cabinets, but my personal files are my personal files, okay?”

she’s barely holding back tears now. “sure, of course" he shakes his head as she walks away, absentmindedly walking into an elevator. 

and then this must be a flashback, because mulder is here! he has been looking for her all over!

she had a doctor’s appointment and he immediately clocks something is wrong. even if she says nothing is the matter.

“i’m… i’m sorry, i haven’t told you, i don’t know why i haven’t. i mean you were… you were always there for me during my illness, but, um…”

i’m holding my breath over here.

he leans in. “don’t make me guess” <- is he worried she’s sick again?

she tells him she cannot conceive “and i am not ready to accept that i will never have children” 

wait, he knew that though, right? because he had her damn ova. and didn’t they talk about it after emily?

oh WHAT? well, he says there’s something he hasn’t told her either… “i hope you forgive me and understand why i would have kept it from you” 

ohhh no... now he has to tell her. 

I COULD HAVE SWORN THIS ALREADY HAPPENED THOUGH?? am i crazy? can someone please let me know. tysm.

well, she is obviously gagged that first of all, he broke into a facility and FOUND them, and also that he didn’t tell her, but she was dying at the time, and he didn’t want to give her more bad news!!

and it was bad news... because the doctor said they weren’t viable. she pushes the elevator button. she wants a second opinion. it closes most of the way. he tries to open it. they lock eyes and he lets her go.

GOD, the way she looks at him trying to hold the doors open and then shakes her head a little and looks away… and he lets her go. FUCK ME.

back in our time, doggett runs into scully, who is standing in the corner of the elevator looking incredibly out of it. “agent scully? what are you doing?”

“um, i don’t know. i guess i just forgot to push the button” <- ohhhh, poor thing. she was just sitting in there. terrified.

and now he opens the elevator! “i wasn’t exactly clear on what you wanted to do about this guy haskell. about his wife’s story”

“there’s nothing to do”. 

he nods, and lets the door shut

oh GOD, this is CRAZY already. i need a sip of water.

scully is off to the genetics company that made the ultrasound for kath.

it seems to be totally empty. but she hears faint voices. knocks on a door. hears someone screaming that she is afraid. a doctor is talking to ms. hendershot….

it’s the doctor we saw before!! at the start of the episode!! from the emergency c section alien baby! saying it is different, and he would know, because he knows both cases!

scully is peeking in and then runs away. hides in a closet FILLED WITH WEIRD BABY CORPSES PRESERVED IN FLUID?? oh my fucking GOD, get her out of here???? literally WALL TO WALL FUCKED UP BABY CORPSES. 

she investigates…… holds her head up next to the cases.

THE DOCTOR WALKS IN!! poor scully is on the SPOT!! she says she is here with her friend and worried!!! and i love that she cannot lie to save her life.

he tells her ms. hendershot is fine. and that she can’t be back here. no one mentions the giant closet of dead babies. pretty large elephant in the room.

she gets home. calls the number on her ultrasound.

she calls dr. parenti, and tells him she is afraid. asks him to compare an ultrasound to hers. he’s not in his office. IS HE PLOTTING SOMETHING WITH THE OTHER GUY??

“dana… are you going to be okay?” she says she’ll be okay. not sure i'm buying it, though.

THIS PARENTI FUCKER IS IN THE BABY CORPSE ROOM!!!!! unboxing an alien baby!!!!!! another one???

guys…. we need to do something now.

okay, flashback to months ago now: her meeting dr. parenti. he tells her that there is a chance. and she FALLS DOWN, saying it is too good to be true.

scully, my baby...

he says the odds are good if they start soon, and she wants to know if they can start right away. he says, well... you do need a father. did you have a donor in mind? and SHE DOES, SHE JUST NEEDS TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO ASK HIM, OH MY GOD??

back to the current time period. she is really beautiful. dr. parenti says the ultrasound looks fine to him. “why do you ask that?” <- YOU KNOW, YOU FUCKER!

she thanks him. and as he leaves he SAYS SHE HAS TO TELL THE FBI AT SOME POINT, LMAOOOO, OH GOD. HE CALLED HER ASS OUT: “can’t keep it a secret forever, dana” 

she does not wanna think about all that, LMAO, her face. but i can't laugh too hard, because i know this parenti fucker is up to evil.

OH GOD, DOGGETT GOT A CALL IN THE OFFICE FROM DR. PARENTI ABOUT AN ULTRASOUND... OH MY GOD, SHE SAYS IT WAS HERS….? HE IS LIKE "COME ON SCULLY, THAT WAS ONE OF THE DOCTORS THE HASKELLS WENT TO"

oh my GOD, i just watched that scene and i was not breathing:

“excuse me, agent doggett, but are you investigating me?”

“no, i was doing a background check on mr. and mrs. haskell before i dropped the case, like you asked me to”

“no, i didn’t ask you to drop the case. i said there was nothing to do”

“well, if there’s nothing to do, then why are you investigating?”

“you are jumping to conclusions”

“no, i’m just trying to do my job, only it gets hard to do if the person you’re working with is keeping secrets and telling lies” <- DAMN!!!!

cut her some slack, bro... she’s in a tough place :(((((

she gets close to him. “i am not investigating these people, agent doggett. parenti is my doctor. is that so strange?”

we see him thinking….

so like…. is he putting it together? because she said there was an ultrasound… some people get those all the time, i guess it doesn't have to mean anything…

did the doctor leave a message or just talk to doggett? because that has to be a hippa violation.

lmao. he called her a liar, though. there is something sickly funny about that in these circumstances. she IS lying. and she IS bad at it.

“is there something about him i don’t know?” her concern seems legitimate.

“no. but duffy haskell is a piece of work, i’ll tell you that much”

a class act in conflict de-escalation.

we’re actually just taking the conflict elsewhere, because duffy is now with doggett and scully in skinner’s office!! he was sending mulder threatening letters as president of MUFON ohio. he wrote to dr. lev saying he would kill her if he hurt his wife. which he says did happen; dr. lev “stole the alien baby out of her womb” <- well. this isn’t making you sound less crazy, man.

scully is making this face, lmaoooo 

doggett is like well, i can’t even find any documentation that you were married, let alone that dr. lev is in any way suspicious. something sickly funny again about him calling him a liar. he said that alien baby was out of wedlock.

skinner says it’s a crime to threaten anyone. haskell turns to scully and asks if she believes him. turns to scully again. says there are other women out there just like kath. 

they all look at each other.

haskell leaves, calling someone on his phone. HE CALLS DR. LEV?? reports that they poked holes in his story. which dr. lev tells him they knew would happen. says they’re still risking losing hendershot. “then it’s time to let her go” CUT SCENE TO MORE CREEPY ALIEN BABY WITH DR. LEV??

WHO IS THIS DUFFY GUY.....?

scully comes home….

resting her hand on her abdomen. someone knocks at the door. jump back in time. it’s mulder. she welcomes him in; asks to take his coat. OH, she’s nervous. he can’t stay. he has to get back to the office.

OH, she already asked him, so she’s making him answer now. “it’s not something i get asked to do every day”, he says. she’s scared.

“look, if… if you’re trying to politely say no, it’s okay, i… i understand” <- she’s not looking at him. it is too much to look at him.

he, however, is looking straight at her. “see, as weird as this sounds- and this sounds really weird, i know- but i-i just wouldn’t want this to come between us”

oh, she’s crushed. “yeah. i know. i-i understand. i do” she looks at the ground.

“but. the-the answer is ‘yes’” <- LMAO, OH GOD. what did he do all that for? oh my god, her FACE, AND SHE HUGS HIM :(((

HIS DUMBASS SAYING HE’S A PRO AT THE DONOR PART, OH MY GOD. and he leaves for the office before she can really start crying.

god, he was in and out of there... LMAO, he was scared af to have that conversation!!!

we should unpack that at another time.

back to her apartment in the present day. alone. but we get a knock on the door. who is it??? the gunmen?

it’s hendershot!! she tells scully her baby is in danger, and so is her's!! GIRL!!! this is escalating!!!!!

now it’s 3 in the morning in washington DC, and doggett is…. somewhere? meeting skinner and scully at a diner!!! he wants his coffee black, mind you!

oh, he came here though, at such an hour. skinner says thanks for coming down. scully is looking far into the distance.

doggett asks if she’s going somewhere. skinner explains with HR formality that she is going on a leave of absence. “hey, great” HE’S TRYING TO BE SUPPORTIVE... but also he sounds deeply sarcastic. “can i ask why?” “no” 

he turns to skinner. “so i’m the x files now? just me?” "agent scully isn’t quitting the FBI, she’s just going away” she won't say anything...... making skinner do all the talking....

he stares at her. she’s looking away. “thanks for getting me out of bed to give me the news” he gets up to leave. “drop me a line if you get a chance”

DOGGETT, PUT IT TOGETHER... i feel bad for him, omfgggg, but like it’s RIGHT THERE, BUDDY, COME ON!!! YOU’RE SO CLOSE! she still won’t look at him. 

skinner says she has to tell him. she tells him she can’t.

she runs out after him: “agent doggett?” (very tense pause) “i want you to understand”

“what is it you want me to understand, agent scully? the secrets or the lies?” <- STOP, I FEEL SO BAD FOR BOTH OF THEM :(

“i told you… i’m not doing anything behind your back”

“you’re supposed to watch my back, agent scully” <- oh shit…. he has a point... but he doesn't KNOWWWW why she is doing this...

skinner comes out behind her. “if i was putting you at risk in any way, you can be sure that i wouldn’t let you down. i hope you know that”

“i only know what you tell me”

she turns to skinner. says she has to go.

and hendershot is in scully's car!!! doggett asks who that is. skinner says he doesn’t know.

doggett gets in his truck. 

scully and hendershot are off to a research hospital. scully explains to a team of doctors that hendershot believes she is about to give birth to an inhuman baby.

she has no medical records. hendershot explains they killed her friend who knew too much.

the doctors says they will induce labor now. 

OH SHIT! scully tells the doctor she isn't the only one in danger…

doggett is looking at an ultrasound… when some guy name joe comes in the office. asking why he is sitting in the dark. “i’m in the dark pretty much most of my time on the x files, joe” <- STOP, I FEEL BAD FOR HIMMM :(

he was running haskell’s prints…. they found out that haskell has been dead since 1970!!! what?!!! 

damn, they’re hooking hendershot up to some stuff at the hospital, and scully is right next to her, and i’m gonna have another incident where i almost pass out, huh?

she asks scully how long it will take. “probably somewhere between four and 12 hours”, she answers, in medical mode. scully squeezes her arm. hendershot tells her she’s afraid. says she had a boyfriend, but she looked at the dates, and there’s no way... and now she’s sure it was an abduction.

the doctor calls scully over and loads up a tape. she’s getting her own ultrasound. she looks at it, smiling. “i see what would appear to be a healthy baby at 14 weeks” <- HOLD ON, I GOTTA DO SOME MATH... so she’s 3.5 months pregnant, so it has to be like…. august? september? sigh, i don’t fucking KNOW!!!

why did they say that line about mulder being gone in may?? had they NOT said that, we would be FINE, even if that means some of the episodes were out of order, but nOoOoOo!!

scully asks if she is sure. the doctor asks if she wants to know the sex. she just says she wants it to be okay. so they’re gonna do that other test with the amniotic fluid.

meanwhile…. doggett runs out and catches a guy named knowle on the street! he says he needs to know about the haskell fingerprint NOW. knowle says he could be intelligence... he claims there is no conspiracy. but doggett wants to know for scully :(

OH GOD, now they’re doing the test on scully, and tbh i always wondered how that stuff worked. and the answer is: a giant fucking needle. LIKE COMICALLY LARGE, DAMN. 

doctor tells her she needs to take it easy after the procedure, and she once again mumbles that she just wants to know if it is okay. oh god. poor thing. i don’t wanna think about membranes rupturing. she better lay her ass down.

(as i edit my notes i am now googling this procedure to see what sort of stuff it can tell you and how severe it is. eek. makes me dizzy)

do not move, girl, i’m serious. she sees the VHS…. gets up. girl, i told you not to do that... but whatever.

takes the tape out. sees IT IS SOMEONE ELSE’S?? THE FUCK?? 

scully goes to get ms. hendershot and tells her they have to go NOW. starts getting the needles out of her. 

what the FUCK is going on?

doggett is running for skinner. asks how to get to scully right away. they’ve all been misled by this haskell guy. he thinks it’s a setup. he needs to get scully, wherever she’s gone.

skinner says she’s safe at a hospital. OH DAMN, HE SAYS “look, this involves doctors. doctors who may have killed pregnant women. now, a hospital could be the worst place in the world for her. TELL ME WHERE SCULLY IS” 

yeah, it is official: i love this man.

and he tells her. doggett instructs him to call security now and runs after.

scully is trying to smuggle herself and hendershot out. but the doctors notice patients missing.

and a friend of doggett’s says to follow them!! it’s knowle!! do we trust him??

hendershot is really pretty….

they’re leading them into a black van. she asks who they are and he doesn’t answer. and they are speeeeeeding out. the men are medics. but SCULLY, NO! SHE GROANS IN PAIN BECAUSE SHE JUST HAD THE THING DONE and shouldn’t even be on her FEET!!!

they are being chased while hendershot is in labor, because of course she is. scully says you HAVE to stop the car, and knowle tells her no. and she says you HAVE TO!!! so they finally do.

time to have a baby in the back of the woods. 

knowle grabs scully, claiming he’s making sure she doesn’t hurt herself, it’s for her own good, but obviously she is NOT taking that laying down and swipes at him, calling for hendershot. calling her first name.

and they sedate scully. while hendershot is giving birth and screaming, and scully hears the weird goat baby bleat as she begins to pass out. and someone is flashing a flashlight on scully. 

she wakes up…. somewhere???

was that knowle or not???

she’s got a million tubes hooked up to her. and calls out for doggett. WHO IS SITTING NEARBY!

“lie down agent scully, you’re not taking any more chances” HE GRABS HER SHOULDERS AND MAKES HER LIE BACK DOWN, OMFG… he is not risking a damn THING with her. “what happened to me?”

“you’re okay, you’re fine" little pause "and your baby’s fine” (OH MY FUCKING GODDDDDDDD) she sighs in relief. “but you’re very, very lucky”

(nah, i'm tearing up just editing these notes... he was sooooo gentle. FUCK!!!!!!)

so what happened?? she’s back at the same hospital she tried to run away from?

allegedly, hendershot is fine, and her baby is fine too. but scully is convinced they switched her alien baby with another one they had on hand. they’re saying she overreacted, that it was really her ultrasound- just an old tape they taped over.

and he sent the men who came to get them: “they say they saved your life. how can i question that, standing here?” 

(fuck. actual tears as i edit this. whyyyyyy)

“it was all planned. you know that. from the moment that man walked into our office. we used to get at ms. hendershot’s baby and now we are being used to cover it up” she lays back down. “oh my god”

(she must be realizing she exposed herself and will now be brought into their trap.... i guess, that is, if they didn't already know)

“at least you’re okay” <- but is she??

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“i was afraid. afraid that they‘d use it against me to take me off the x files so that i couldn’t find mulder” <- OH MY GOD??? she thought they would use it to keep her away from finding him??? like she was too closely involved or something? or would it just be a convenient excuse by the higher ups to get her out of the way?

he grabs her shoulder. leans in close “i told you i’d help you. i said we’d find him”

she tears up. he walks away.

back in her apartment. she finds mulder sleeping on the couch, so i guess we’re back in time. he says he came back and waited, he must have dozed off.

she’s crying. “it didn’t take, did it?” “i guess it was too much to hope for”

he pulls her in for a hug as she cries. “it was my last chance”

he kisses her forehead: “never give up on a miracle”

and i think she kissed his cheek, but it was hard to tell... hold on, let me rewind. she hugs him. 

back in the modern day, still in her hospital bed, she rests a hand on her abdomen.

the end

WHAAAAAAT THE FUCK. 

oh my god, first thought: WHAT IS GOING ON? is scully okay?? what happened to ms. hendershot? was it really an alien baby?? scully seemed convinced they switched her baby out… and doggett seemed to think something weird was going on, too…

and they brought her back to the hospital… and the tape thing actually seemed plausible, but why would they take care of scully and hurt hendershot? it makes no sense… and scully heard the goat noises, but she was getting sedated… and it WAS her doctor who was in the alien corpse room…. so maybe he was lying about everything looking okay…

well, these plots never make any fucking sense, so i honestly think i would just be wasting my time trying to piece it together. tbh.

head in hands... yeah. i do need doggett. 

but in a way that is actually about scully, because there is NOTHING hotter than a man taking care of scully. everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, including someone as tough and reckless as scully. the way he was holding her shoulders down so she couldn’t get up... telling her he said he would help. letting her know he meant it. GOD.

trust seems to be SO important to him, which is sick and twisted for a show with the occasional tagline “trust no one”. he is just a good GUY, and he is stuck in this situation.

and OHHH MY GOD, he was so angry and confused, and he knew scully was lying, but he didn’t know about WHAT. she wouldn’t tell him, even thought skinner said she should, because she knows the hard way not to trust anybody. and of course she doesn’t trust him after he was sent initially by kersh to watch over her, and of course she resents that he isn't mulder!!! she had tried to sneak away from him before, and he was like "don’t do that again". and other times he got frustrated and didn’t understand her point of view, so she didn’t want to tell him, and she was scared because how was this happening? what if something happens? and also, what if they used it against her to take her away from looking for mulder? and oh my god. oh my god, i just... i need to lay down.

and GOD, mulder keeping that secret from her (that i frankly thought they already talked about, LMAO)

so i assume that part took place sometime in s7? and he waited for her at her apartment and fell asleep on the couch. and she cried because it didn’t work. and he told her to never rule out a miracle, and there is a miracle... but was it?? was it a miracle?? or was it someone playing god and abusing women??

oh my god. 

hold on i just. i need a breath. 

okay, i’m not done, i am not fucking DONE.

skinner being dragged into this at 3 in the morning and doing all of the talking, explaining to doggett that she was leaving… fuck me. how do you think that conversation on the phone went?

and then doggett was so mad, because he KNEW she was lying. but she wasn’t doing it to be malicious, she was SCARED!! and she had EVERY REASON TO BE!! but he didn’t know that!!

and that he thought she would be interested in the case, but she immediately shut down because it hit too close to home, and he was thinking “why is she getting mad?”. he just accepted that he crossed a line with her personal files even though they were in the x files... 

and then when she said that it was her doctor who called about an ultrasound, he just thought she was lying because it was too weird to believe, and then he was like wait a minute… what is going on here…

GAHHHH, when he came to skinner and said you need to tell me where she is NOW, that was the moment. that motherfucker snatched my heart with both hands. he had some moments that definitely warmed me up to him (his get well soon card, awkward comforting, carrying scully to the hospital) but that was it, bro. i’m all in now. he is my friend. i will kiss him on the forehead.

and the trust he placed in her, particularly in the last episode, must have made the lack of trust she displayed toward him sting all the more… when he said she is supposed to watch his back, GOD, my heart was hurting…. she was trying to explain without explaining, and he said “i only know what you tell me”

and holy fuck, i thought i was going to faint at that last scene. the way he made her lie back down, told her to stop taking chances, she’s fine, your baby is fine, just… oh my god. grabbing her shoulder. saying he told her he would find him. for a man like him, his word is everything. 

i’m gonna fucking CRY.

and terrified but brave scully, after just having had a procedure done that put her at risk, going to get ms. hendershot out because she HAS to do the right thing no matter what, oh my GOD. she had to get her to safety. and then trying to get to her while she went into labor and having to be restrained and sedated… and thinking she saw what she maybe really did see…

and being so scared because how did this happen, is it really a miracle, or is this another terrible thing that was taken from her? and those horrifying baby corpses she ran into, and knowing that this is a possibility now- how can you keep going on with life like that didn’t happen? like it isn’t looming over you? like when the clock is up it might be… 

god. just. oh my god. 

i do find the whole abduction arc and lack of agency thing pretty, um. how do you say... gross. but in terms of scully’s pregnancy arc, idk exactly where it is going, so i can’t have a fully formed opinion yet.

i do know what i think happens at the VERY end, and i have my thoughts on that, but until we get there, my lips are shut.

fucking…. doggett… scully… 

is she going to still go on leave? but where could she even go? if this really is part of the conspiracy, there isn’t a place she could go to be safe. which is fucking horrifying. god. the sort of cosmic terror of intergalactic conspiracy just was made real for me. which i think is a good thing. means the writing finally paid off.

i’m also struck by skinner in all of this, who had his own life changing field trip with doggett and realized he was Good, and he can’t make that choice to trust him for scully, but he tried to get her to tell him. i was honestly worried he would just tell him, but he didn’t say anything at all until doggett basically gave him no choice. and then as soon as he said where she was, doggett RAN out the door. 

and mulder… poor mulder, never having that conversation with her, because when would the right time be? and he finally does and she’s hurt- of course she’s hurt- he holds the doors open. but she won’t look at him and so he shuts them.

and then when she finally gets him to her place to answer, she’s so nervous she asks to take his coat. he says he doesn’t want it to come between them and she starts to cry. she wanted it to be HIM. specifically. the father of her baby. she knew before she even got in that office. she just wasn’t sure how to tell him that.

and he’s so awkward as he says yes in a prolonged fashion that she thinks is a no, because he really means it- he doesn’t want anything to come between what they have, whatever you call it, or however you put it into words or don’t or can’t…

and then he was WAITING there the day of, fell asleep on her couch, holds her while she cries, kisses her forehead, tells her not to rule out a miracle… and what may be a miracle finally comes when he’s gone. fuck.

and from scully’s perspective, she just. tells him in an elevator that she can’t have kids and she isn’t ready to accept that. so he admits he has known and has had her ova the WHOLE time. of course she is shocked that 1. he FOUND them in a government facility and 2. he KNEW that the whole time and never told her, and of course he didn’t tell her because she was dying, but then when would a good time to tell her be?? from her perspective it still hurts, he still kept that from her.

and she gets another opinion, and when the doctor says it might work she FALLS, sinks down, wants to begin right away, not even thinking that isn’t something she can just do, she has to ask him.

when she does she’s so scared. can’t look him in the eye. thinks he is saying no and tells him she understands, it’s okay, it’s okay. but he says yes and she jumps into his arms. he makes a stupid joke and he leaves before they can think about it. 

and then it doesn’t work, and she comes home to him sleeping there on her couch, waiting for her, having to tell him it didn’t work. the tears in her eyes having sat there on her ride home, him trying to give her some privacy and not come with her because you know she wouldn’t let him, she’s fiercely independent. so she drove home in silence. and when he sees her he knows. brings her in. she stands on her tippy toes to rest her head on his shoulder. he leans his forehead against hers and kisses it, telling her that miracles do happen. 

and then. he vanishes.

and the juxtaposition of him prying the elevator doors open and then doggett doing the same as she stood there, having not pressed any buttons at all, lost in remembering… and he knows something weird is going on, but knows it doesn’t matter if he asks, because she won’t tell him…

but now he knows. and she is reminded that he meant his promise. they will find him. he doesn’t say things and not mean them. 

and then factor in his own personal angst about hearing she’s having a baby, and is worried about if that baby is even a fucking human or not, after his own experience with losing a child- not a baby, a child he saw grow up-

and i don’t think he’s told her about that, and he sure isn’t going to want to now, but every time she does something or says something it will bring back all of those memories he had with his own boy and the pain of losing him again…

well. fuck.

it is safe to say that i enjoyed this episode, even if the giving birth and needles freaked me tf out. luckily, i can just reread my notes to rewatch it all over again without seeing that! woohoo!! 

and i think the next one is a two parter, but i see it mentions reyes, which i am SO excited about!!! because i do not know a damn THING ABOUT HER!!  i’m READY FOR ANOTHER WOMAN ON THE SHOW THAT ISN’T DIANA, YEAHHHHH

is she going to be doggett’s new partner while scully is away? but again! where is scully going to go? is there anywhere she can hide? because if there was nowhere i could hide, i would want to keep working just so i could find mulder! but that might put you in even MORE danger, so what is she to do?

oh, scully. 

and now i have to deal with knowing a two parter is coming and that it’ll probably take me 2 weeks to watch them both, LMFAO. but somehow i will be very brave and get through this. even in the heat. the terrible heat. i will push through.

well damnit, now that we have seen such suffering, i want everything to end happy-ish even more now. i’ll keep brainstorming my happy-ish ending au. like i always say, not TOO happy. but they all hold hands forever and ever. the end!

i am VERY curious to hear what you thought of this episode. did this one also make you fall in love with doggett? did you cry?

(groans and explodes)

[thatlittledandere]

I fucking hate the Candy timeline. Which motherfucker looked at Homestuck and thought "you know what this webcomic-turned-webnovel needs? Fucking JANE X GAMZEE. That's right; sloppy, dirty, loud, honking Janezee hatesex is what's missing from this world. We simply cannot do without some motherfucking gamjane, that's what's true and just, and necessarry." Jake is on the cuck chair with baby Tavros and they don't even NOTICE. This little piggy went to the dark carnival. Good grief

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[autistic-katara]

Not so friendly reminder to fucking respect little kids boundaries (very much including relatives), if not because they’re full human beings who might not want to do certain things all the time and probably don’t have much practice standing up for themselves or because it’ll normalise boundaries being brushed aside for them and make it a lot more likely that they’ll find themselves in some sort of abusive situation, then because if that kid talks about it in the wrong way at the wrong time you could very much be investigated for CSA. It’s not exactly easy to tell the difference between “my papa kisses me lots and doesn’t stop when I say stop :(” (complaining about an embarrassing and kinda smothering grandparent) and “my papa kisses me lots and doesn’t stop when I say stop :(” (complaining about being abused with the language they have available), especially if the kid is really young, mentally/some types of physically disabled, or upset in the moment. And even if I wasn’t legally mandated to report stuff like that (which I am) I would still choose to have an overaffectionate family member get checked out by CPS or whoever than let a child get potentially abused every time

[carnage-cathedral]

people really just hate it when victims talk about their victimhood

[faeriehighfemme]

…

[theygender]

Oh damn I just realized I'm going to have to deal with being nonbinary at work IN PERSON for the first time