#i don't know what my self-control will be

[unmakingandincorporeality]

I have menieres disease. It's an idiopathic vestibular disorder, or, as I like to put it, I've been diagnosed with 'non-commital shrug' of the ear. Idiopathic means they don't know what causes it. It just happens to some people, sometimes. It seems to be kinda heritable, but it can be triggered at any time in your life, and, again, they don't often know why.

I'm very lucky that my presentation responds well to medication, so I no longer have nightly six-hour long episodes of vertigo, but for about a year of my life that was just how I lived: sleeping on the bathroom floor, waking up every two hours to vomit. I didn't make a self-care mistake. I didn't fuck up my healthcare routine and get punished with a debilitating illness.

It just happens. You can't know if it will just happen to you. You can do your best to take care of your body, and that'll help you avoid some of the things that can happen, but that responder has it backwards: believing that people are to blame for their illnesses is a cope. It's a way that people who are terrified of the uncertainty of the future, and who overly identify with their specific, present physical abilities as what makes them who they are, cope with their fundamental lack of control over their own lives. You find some examples of people who are sick or injured in ways that have something to do with their choices, and you tell yourself that if you don't make those choices then you'll never have to experience a change in what you can expect from your body, that you'll be 25 until some day you just don't wake up.

[nkopurin]

fratboy!toji is nothing less than a menace to society.

now tell me, and stay with me on this one, what do people think when it comes to fratboys? the average person would usually think of the following traits: dumb, self-centered, fuckboys, party animals, muscles and no brain, arrogant, reckless, immature even. however, toji wasn't your average 'sigma kappa tau' member. he is the three big C's in a nutshell. cunning, cold, and calculating, but of course, these are the only traits that differentiate him from being a good old regular frat bud.

he is a party animal, through and through.

he is arrogant and self-centered; there is no question about it.

he is a fuckboy, with his looks it would be a crime not to be. and he would never turn down a pretty face, ever.

nevertheless, he was an above average student, muscles and brain type of guy—not a top valedictorian student, though. he knew the spotlight brought nothing but prying eyes and trouble. as edgy as it sounds, he liked to stay in the shadows, away from the lime light.

he is the thinking head behind the 'sigma kappa tau' house. he coordinated the parties, found desperate nerds, ones who thought they were good enough candidates to be part of the 'brotherhood', to clean up after. and he indeed financed these parties via not so legal means. it was somewhat of an open secret/rumor that toji was a plug.

he knew a lot of people who dabbled in various things, so in just the dial of the phone he got it for you, and everything that you might be desperate to latch your hands on.

you needed a gram of blow, weed, oxy, burner phones, getaway car, or contraband alcohol? don't worry! toji was handling it to you by sundown.

or perhaps you need information on someone? at least that's what it seemed to be the case with you.

"so you know where that creep is?" the ticking of the clock was defening in the stagnant silence. you shifted your weight on the couch, your gaze trailed toji's every step and move he took.

"of course i know, princess." he lowers the brick phone to his chest to look at your pretty, dolled up figure. it was impossible for him not to walk your way and catch your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his. yet you jerked away from his touch, not taking even a grain of his performative, affectionate gestures. obviously, he was charming, got muscled for days, evil as shit, and that chiseled god-like face is just your type down to a t. but then again, you were nothing less than a hater of his stupid, little games.

"just tell me where they are fushiguro," you might be dressed in all pastels and fancy skirts bestowing an innocent, preppy act. but the death stare you gave the frat revealed your nature perfectly, toji's breath hitched, your cold eyes stirred up hardcore emotions inside him. he's an adrenaline junkie, one who lusts after control and being above anyone, nevertheless, you are not easily swayed...yet.

"only if you take me."

━━━

"hey tits." toji came crashing into any room he entered with his signature arrogance and rudeness. nobody was safe from him, not even you, fuck you wouldn't be surprised if he disrespected his mother in a similar fashion.

"how's it going, steroids?" you scoffed, even amidst the caos, splatted intimate pictures with blood droplets resting on them and a wailing, tied up dude, toji had the power to make you even angrier than you already were.

"my night became brighter now that i've seen you doll..." there was no way toji would miss the opportunity, even with a half-conscious man in front of him, to shower his next target with flowers, "so this is what the guy looks like."

the beat up dude looked like any average joe to be honest. who knew this normal looking man would sneak mundane and lewd pictures of your sorority sisters indiscriminately.

"yes, i hope he learns not to take more pictures...of anybody, ever," even in the chair that you sat, your cold, poisonous words engraved themselves deep into everybody inside the room, "girls, you can leave now, you've done good. i have something to discuss with fushiguro here."

your sorority sisters left the secluded shack one following the other, giving their 'thank you's' to you and toji. he gave them all the disheveled, blood-stained ladies a polite smile, while doing a mental note to never mess with your sorority in any way. he was sure to tell his boys this.

"so how much," you briefly looked at him before unzipping your purse. there is always a price for these types of job's, you just hoped the money that you brought was more than enough.

"a date." you stopped counting on the money. he is not serious.

"toji i'm serious..."

"god, keep saying my name."

"how much toji, i don't have all night." toji took a hold to your chin for you to look at him, just like days prior. and your exasperation deepened.

"as i said doll, a date."

"...ugh, fine!" you bounce up, raging due to your predicament, and what better way to take your frustration out than on somebody. more specifically on creepy-mcgee, "this is all your fault!"

and it actually was, if it weren't for this perverted nobody, you wouldn't have sought out for toji's help. if it weren't for you heels you would kick the shit out of the guy, "i'll burn the pics, can you keep fucking this guy up?"

"anything for the lady." like a puppy doing a trick for the treat, toji took to breaking further the poor devils face. but not before taking a picture, specifically of you, from the ground into his pocket.

you did not hate toji, hate is a strong word, there was only distaste for some aspects of his personality and antics. but that sour taste you had of him diluted with every strike he blew on your stalker's face. you could not help but peek at him whenever you took the prints from the floor. it was completely messed up to find the aggressor attractive, but his muscles flexing and contracting were just too cool, with each spilling of blood towards random places proving his strength. toji's grin was akin to the devil's, dangerously enchanting, one that drives you insane and willing to commit the most heinous sin imaginable. whatever could you do to keep seeing that smile often?

you tossed the pictured into the empty barrel and poured some oil in it before setting it ablaze with some lit matches. there was no escape from the scene in front of you, as you tossed the last match you couldn't help but to thing in how wrong you are. completely wrong to find satisfaction in violence, one that toji of all people induced.

without a word you set out of the shack, felling the soft night breeze hit you, you tried to keep your remaining integrity intact. the car where you came in was nowhere in sight, obviously. the only vehicle left was toji's old ass subaru.

'fuck it,' you began to navigate your way towards toji's ride and rest your weight near its door. the beating in your heart marched like a parade drum, this was not happening. your body wanted him, scratch that, needed him in unspeakable ways.

"hey," toji started, "i came to see if you were alright, maybe the scene was too much—"

your lips seeking his was bound to happen. you didn't let him finish his sentence; besides, it didn't matter, his concern was always a show. you thought this inebriating feeling would appease itself, well you thought wrong.

"fucking shut up fushiguro, just kiss me."

"fuck," he heaved, sinking back into the lips of the woman he so desperately coveted. with every stroke of his tongue in yours the fever for him just increased in temperature.

'more!' your body was quick to demand, and your hands even quicker to lay on his toned abdomen, shamelessly traversing through his smooth skin. his bloody hands kept your head in place as his lips explored every crevice of your mouth.

"do ughn~ do something fushiguro!" you whinged, leading his beaten up hand all the way down to that wet spot in between your legs.

"damn, doll...can't use my fingers though," he whispered, caressing your clothed cunt, crimson stains sadly smearing over the fabric.

you catch a fistful of his shirt collar, bringing him to your face level and not minding the means to relieve you. it just had to be him, "then your mouth will have to do."

you did not believe the rumors of toji fushiguro's head being mind blowing. they had to be a brazen exaggeration, nothing more than a whisper started by him to inflate his ego a set his reputation in stone. but as they say 'don't knock it 'till you try it'.

to your pride's dismay, the rumors fell short in comparison to the real deal. this man didn't tickle your pussy, he devoured it. his hot, wet tongue circled around your clit before lapping it through your slit. your back rested comfortably in the car's hood, skirt up, panties to your side and your legs locked firmly around toji's neck. strings of moaned profanities left your mouth, your hands gripping at toji's raven locks. at this rate you migh as well leave a bald spot with how hard you tugged at his hair for him to go deeper in you.

disappointment will fill you once your head clears from the lustful fog. but in this precise second all you wanted was to seek your orgasm. and sure enough you were terribly close, toji switched from burying his tongue inside of you to kissing the most sensitive parts of your pussy.

"fushi—toji~ i am, shit if you keep—going i'm gonna- i-!" torrents of erratic pleasure rippled from your pelvis through out your body. your juices coated toji's lips and dripped to his chin.

you heaved, gasping for the fresh air of nature, the stars above twinkled and now your mind became clear once more.

"get off me, help me too."

"man a thank you would be nice." always the gentleman, toji helped you sit right, kneeling to push your panties up and secure you in place as you stood up. even after you ignored his need of gratitude.

"what are you gonna do about that?" you gestured at the obvious bulge in his pants.

"shit, baby, don't worry i got certified jerk off material right here." he took the picture he had previously tucked in his pocket, out on display for you to see. apparently the creep that took all the sorority's most intimate moments actually had a talent for photography.

"fuck, fushiguro, give me my picture!" you caught a glimpse of its contents; you observing your figure through tithe mirror in a pink dress, one that looked eerily similar to lingerie. you tried to snatch it from his grasp, however he held it high in the air, making it imposible for you to get ahold of.

"you'll have to bounce on my cock if you want the pic dollface," he beamed a grin while opening the passenger door, "let's go to mine and finish the transaction."

"ughh, you're insufferable fushiguro."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

never thought this would be as long as it did :o + feedback on my writing is hella appreciated !

[fatcatlittlebox]

Something I noticed and I love, whether or not this was a product of Morfydd and Charlie's natural chemistry or an intentional acting choice (perhaps a combination of both) is how she very subtly, but noticeably trembles when Galadriel is in close proximity to Sauron. And as I touched on previously, it is a really revealing reaction for her to have.

Morfydd has said that looking directly at Halbrand was too much for her character because it uncovers feelings and emotions in Galadriel. That when she allows herself to feel, alot can happen. I think this is a nod to that. Because one hallmark of Galadriel in this show and hinted at in the books is that that is what sets her apart from her elven peers. Her passion, her impulsivity, her rage, her righteousness. And I think when she first encounters Halbrand, her body (and probably her fea) instantly reacts so strongly to his energy, the magnetism, the whatever it is, that she recoils in self-defense. I don't think it's a wariness of his darkness. She's never been unassured in the presence of darkness before. It's because specifically he, Halbrand, elicits a response from her that she cannot control. Like the chemical reaction I have discussed in previous metas, it's spontaneous and unexpected. Uncontrollable. And because she senses that loss of control in his presence, she tries to hold him at arm's length. But as I show in my last gifset, he senses it too. He always has and he tempts her to indulge in that attraction. To give into it. To touch the darkness.

What's interesting is that this must be a uncharacteristic impulse of Sauron as well. Otherwise, why introduce such unpredictability in his plans, in his life? He clearly cannot control her so in trying to bind himself to that which he cannot control, he's only introducing more chaos and disorder into his orbit. I think I could logically argue it's because he cannot stop himself either. Was this the ultimate twist in the plan of Eru or the Vala? Their gambit? -- to bring these 2 together knowing that the only way to undo the Dark Lord obsessed with order and control is to supplant that need with another one. His need to have Galadriel. And in having Sauron chase after an impossible fate, is enough chaos that would unravel his very existence.

[lolitastories]

Calls

Rafe Cameron

Part 1. Part 2.

After the very eventful evening Rafe kept me at arms length. He eyes avoiding mine and when I try to touch him he takes a step back. He opened his passenger door and allowed me to get it. He drove in silence until we reached his house in Tanny Hill. He purposely went out to get food even though I told him I could wait for delivery. At that time he told me to take a shower and borrow some clothes. The wooden floor in his room was sending cold shivers all over my body. The yellow lights soften the feeling. I finished grabbing one of his boxers and a t- shirt and decided to wait on his bed. Suddenly I felt nervous again, what the hell was I doing in Rafe Cameron's room? Why the hell did I give him a handjob at the station?! Why the hell am I wearing his clothes? He has been so sweet and protective since I’ve met him but for god sakes I barely know this man. I do have to admit that I like when he looks at me, when he touches me, when he smiles at me and just recently, when he kisses me. “Did you leave the door unlocked?” I nod innocently. Seeing him walk into his room like nothing with a bag of take out and casually acting like we have done this a millions times was alarming. How he begins to order out plates and just rambles on. “You’re a detective with a man on the loose, you don’t see what's wrong here?” I give him a simple shrug crossing my leg on the other. I hold back a grin loving how well he looks in his black shirt and especially with my badge around his neck.

“You need to stop taking my badge.” He paused as he looked up to me , fazed.

“Beauty I am telling you something important,” He was doing it again, he was demanding me. “You’re a smart girl but some of your decisions are questionable.” He scoffs, removing his eyes and focusing back to his last action. His rambling became background noise. He didn’t even notice when I started to crawl towards him. I pushed the plates a little further allowing me to sit on the edge of the bed with him between my legs. My hands slowly crawled up and down his chest. “That guy could have followed us and seeing as I had left he could have-” My fingers grabbed my badge and used it to lean him forward.

“Rafe?” He hummed sucking in my voice. “I was thinking about you in the shower,” I look at with doe eyes hoping to get him to do something. “Thinking how well we could fit in there together-”

“Stop,” His head falls as he lets out a groan. “I need you to behave tonight,” What? This guy has been chasing me for months and telling me dirty things every time he speaks and now he doesn’t want me? “Listen,” He must have seen the less than happy expression on my face. “As much as I want to fuck you into the mattress and do ungodly things to you I can’t.”

“Why not?” I let out a whine. My hands clawing up until they wrap around his shoulders.

“Because I want to do this right.” I tilt my head in confusion. “I want to take you out on a date and probably fuck you that night because my self control can only go so far,” I chuckle. I took in a deep breath seeing how he was trying to fight his demons. “It took a lot to not fuck you back there but I thought back to my promise,”

“What promise?” My hand moves down his shoulders and up until I cup his face.

“I know you have or will hear stories about me but I want you to know I have changed. I want to do this properly with you. Start off with a date because you deserve that. Take it as slow as you want because I really do want us to happen.”

“You do?’ My voice was laced with teasing but I was genuinely touched once again by his words.

“Yes,” He smiled, placing a kiss on my lips. “So I promised myself that I would do right by you. So you don't regret giving me a chance.”

“Oh, I know I won’t Rafe.” For the first time we shared a kiss not fueled by desire. One that we shared the same breath. Where we felt every curve of our lips. The caring and warmth of us. I had a huge smile when we pulled apart. “So,” My fingers were messing around with the cold golden badge.

“Yeah?” He hummed with a smile.

“We got on a date and then you fuck me?” I said it so seriously I almost believed myself.

“If that is what you want.” He followed along. “You’re the one who has been avoiding me and pushing me away so after the date you will decide,” He pulls away, moving to the end of the bed to organize the plates again. I crossed my arms letting out an annoyed sigh.

“That was because until recently, you annoyed me. Coming around the station and finding me out with my friends, plainly stalking me.”

“It's a small island!” I let out a laugh getting back to my old spot. I watch him grab our plates and walk over to the other side of the bed. “Plus if you didn’t like it you could’ve gotten a restraining order?” I raised an eyebrow knowing he knew what would happen with that order.

“For Mr. Big, Owns Half Of The Island And I Am Sure He Owns The Station Now,” I have to make a note to actually check on that. “Cameron, he would ditch the order.”

“Damn straight,” I grabbed the plate he was handing me. I hit his shoulder when he pulled himself to sit against his headboard.

“You’re so stupid,” I hear his chuckle as we both dig into our food.

“Stupid for you,”

“Eww you weirdo,” We laugh as I pull away. At that moment I wondered why it took me so long to give this guy a chance. This weird, protective, love that he is obsessed with me man.

“Truth,” We had finished eating while watching a random show on Netflix, when Rafe decided to mute the tv and lay his head on my lap. He crossed his arms over his chest like a mummy and requested we play truth or dare.

“How many boyfriends have you had?” I looked down seeing how serious he was waiting for my answer.

“One,” I proudly say. My finger moved to massage his scalp.

“Really?” He smiles looking up through his lashes, amused. “Just one?”

“Why are you surprised? How many have you had?” He shakes his pointer finger.

“It's not my turn yet.” I roll my eyes not wanting to argue. It wasn’t part of the rules either for him to continue asking me questions but here I was giving in. “How old were you?”

“I had just entered my teenage years.” The only boy around who caught my attention.

“First time?” I shake my head.

“I was crazy about him but not enough to not think straight.” He raised his brow slightly. “4 years of being on and off until he finally enlisted without telling me and since then I haven’t heard from him.” I was smart but back then I was a teenage girl too. I used to think we would move from highschool sweethearts to being married and eventually start a family together. That I had gotten lucky with the first boy I actually took time picking out. “He does come to mind on certain nights. Sometimes when I am back home with my friends or when I find myself alone in the night, the stars bring him back.”

“Nope,” he said, waving his hand around to interrupt my thinking.. I look down at him confused. “Forget I ask. I don’t need you thinking of him like that.” I laugh, finding his slight jealous tone adorable. “I hope he got shot in war.”

“Rafe what the fuck?!” He looked back at me with a blank expression like he said nothing wrong. “Don’t say shit like that,”

“Why? Because you hate thinking he might have died and you didn’t get a chance to tell him you still think of him?”

“You started this. Don’t get mad at me,” Like a little kid he crossed his arms and focused his eyes at the ceiling. “Rafe?” I say more calmly. I move forward to block his view but he only turns his head towards the wall. “You can’t get mad for something you started.” He slowly groans, still not looking at me. I grin moving closer to his ear and placing a kiss. “He is my faint past, not my present.” I place another kiss just below his ear, on his jaw. I watch his eyelid closed slowly, his head twisting towards me as I lead him with kisses. “Still mad?” I whisper hovering over his lips.

“Fuck yeah,”

“Hmm,” I move close enough to graze his lips and our noses together. “What can I do?” I bit back a laugh seeing him desperately lift his head, chasing a kiss but I pulled back. “What a kiss?” He obediently nods letting out a deep sigh.

“Yes ma’am.” With no second to spare my lip met him. A soft whisper of a touch. My lip parting, our breath mingling together. Once again the time slowed, the only sound was a gentle hum of our bodies. My fingers tracing the curves of his jaw as we continued kissing. So smooth a soft, leaving me breathless when I pulled away. I watch his eyes flutter open and I offer him a smile which he reciprocates.

“Truth or Dare?” I whisper, earning a quick chuckle from him.

“Dare-” We both jump with the sudden sound of my phone ringing.

“Shit.” I stretch my body over reaching for my phone on the nightstand. “Hello?” Rafe had already sat up allowing me to scoot out of bed and rush over to my clean clothes. I mentally thank Rafe for putting them in the wash before he left to pick up the food.

“Sergeant pushed the warrant for his house but we only have the rest of the 24 hours to question him.” okay.

“That gives me all night then.” I start placing on my shoes while holding the phone with my chin. “Julie leave the paperwork on my desk and take the night off,”

“But-”

“You do enough Julie, go get some rest.” I could sense her uncertainty from the other side of the phone but later on she agreed. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Yes detective.” I hear the dial end and I let go, making the phone hit the ground.

“Fucking shoelaces,” I whisper tying my shoes once more. “Rafe?” I look up, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed with his shoes already on and the keys in his hand.

“Get in the car before I decide to tie you up,” We both stood up at the same time. I couldn’t look away from his predator eyes. I took a step back every time he took one forward.

“Kinky.”

“That's the only way I see you being away from the station for at least one night,” he completely ignored my comment.

“I promise the night you get to tie me up I will take a whole day off,” He finally catches up and stands towering over me.

“The day I tie you up, you will need more than one day.” Fucking chills.

[absolxguardian]

@egregiousderp #especially since you can find writings of early modern and medival european men writing about the pros of being friends with your wife#they have no concept of romance just friendship and carnal desire#if you actually like your wife shes your best friend#so its culture!#<-absolxguardian’s prev tags#I CAN COMMENT ON THIS ACTUALLY!#because marriage wasn’t so much about sexual desire as it was about the duty of procreation and lineage for a lot of nobler houses?#it’s more tied in with the idea of status or duty!#you see that especially well in some of the chivalry movements#wanting to have sex with someone was almost completely divorced from the idea of proper marriage#seducing a guy you like so he has to ‘do the right thing’ and make your child legitimate was a thing#we have a very different view of sex and marriage post-birth control pill is my theory at least#it’s still super odd as an ace person seeing these people who don’t even LIKE their spouses as people but are so horny for them they marry

You're exactly right. My tags were just about one aspect of this different system, not differentiating between friendship and feelings of emotional affection towards your spouse/sex partner (romance). This isn't even getting into marriage, which was a thing that could be separate from both sexual attraction and friendship/romance. The idea that the birth control pill caused a major sea change is commonly accepted historiography (as well as easier to use condoms and for a period of time before HIV emerged cures for all STDs). A lot of our contemporary sex negative ideas are out-dated good advice when sex could be very dangerous (of course these ideas have forgotten their purpose. They become self justifying with their own value judgements, instead of practical advice about pregnancy being dangerous and new people causing complications).

Another thing that has occured to me since writing those tags is the idea that some contemporary historians have, deeming very close friendships between 17th and 18th century as "romantic friendships" (and thus sexless). This is done in a very no-homoing way, but considering this a way to make their relationship not queer is asexual erasure. But on the other hand, these relationships weren't considered deviant or even all that close to sodomy in their own time periods. But if their culture can be seen as not differentiating between romance and friendship, then what?

I'd put my guess for the emergence of romance as a concept in Europe as with the movement- romanticism- it takes its name from. But I don't feel like I know enough to confidently present this as a thesis, and I haven't been able to find an actual acadmic paper saying the same thing. Potentially you could say that courtly love is the first instance of romance in Europe, but you could also classify it as being about sexual tension and unconsummated sexual relationships. They did consider what they did dancing around the line, in a time when you weren't required to like your spouse. (And this is just Europe, but I know very little about this kind of intellectual history elsewhere, since I can only read stuff that has been translated into English).

I'm currently in a philosphy of sex and love class, and after four weeks I have no more insight into what romantic love is. But most of the texts we've read have been about figuring out a definition for love in general. The only guy who put forth an idea about romance specifically, has a definition that is incompatible with polyamory. But I am writing this right before doing the readings for our upcoming week that is focused on polyamory, so maybe I'll have more to say in two hours.

[guy who is aromantic voice] sexual attraction just makes more sense than romantic attraction. like ok, you want to fuck someone. this is quantifiable. it is quite easy to grasp what "i want to fuck someone" looks like, even if you have no idea what it feels like. romantic attraction, though? this is a nebulous construct which seems to largely be "glorified friendship with sex" in the popular imagination. what even is the difference between friendship and romance? the line between friendship and sexual attraction, though both can coexist, is that when there's sexual attraction present, you want to fuck someone. the line between friendship and romantic attraction, so far as i can perceive it within a heteronormative, amatonormative framework, is that it is... friendship where you want to fuck someone. what?

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 09

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 008. 009. 010.

NINE, carrying the chaos.

RAFE HAD FINALLY LEFT FOR TANNEYHILL,

and the night ted and amanda returned, you couldn't shake the weight pressing down on you. laying in bed, the ceiling above you blurred by the shadows of restless thoughts. your stomach churned with unease, the memory of rafe's hands on your skin as fresh and unwelcome as the guilt that followed. you hated him. hated the way he consumed your thoughts, the way he invaded every quiet moment like a splinter lodged too deep to reach.

rafe cameron was a mistake. one you couldn't stop yourself from making again.

when your phone buzzed with a text, you half-hoped it wouldn't be him. but of course, it was.

rafe: stop staring at the ceiling and text me back.

you: go to hell.

rafe: only if you're coming.

you cursed under your breath, tossing your phone onto the bed as if it might burn you. but you couldn't stop yourself from picking it back up.

you: lose my number.

rafe: you didn't seem so eager to lose me the other night.

your jaw clenched, heat flooding your face. he was infuriating. smug and insufferable. you wanted to throw your phone out the window. instead, you ignored him, shoving the device under your pillow and turning over. sleep wouldn't come, but at least you wouldn't have to see his name glowing on the screen.

the next day, when your mom mentioned dinner at tanneyhill, your stomach sank. the idea of sitting across from rafe, pretending everything was normal, made your skin crawl. or maybe it was the memory of his hands gripping your waist, his voice low and venomous in your ear.

"do i have to go?" you asked, feigning disinterest as you flipped through a book you weren't pretending to read anymore.

her mother frowned. "of course, you do. it's polite. and you know how rose loves hosting."

polite. that word sat bitterly in your mouth. you wanted to laugh at the irony. there was nothing polite about rafe cameron.

the evening came too quickly. standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed down the hem of your dress—a white sundress that felt too innocent for what you'd become. you scowled at your reflection, fixing a stray strand of hair before heading downstairs.

the drive to tanneyhill was unbearable. carter yammered on about football and some girl he'd met, but you barely heard him. your thoughts too loud, drowning out everything but the dread pooling in your chest.

when you arrived, the first thing you saw was rafe. he stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable until his eyes landed on you. then came the smirk—the one that always made your blood boil.

"y/n," he said, dragging your name out like it was a private joke. "nice of you to grace us with your presence."

"rafe," you replied, your voice cold as ice. "i see you're still trying to act like you own the place."

"i do, don't i?" he shot back, his grin widening as he stepped aside to let her pass. his gaze lingered a beat too long, and you hated the way it made you feel exposed.

dinner was a strained affair. the table buzzed with polite conversation, but you could feel rafe's presence like a brand. every time you glanced up, his eyes were on you, sharp and unyielding. his foot brushed against yours once, then again, and when you kicked him under the table, he just chuckled softly.

"problem?" he murmured, leaning closer.

"you're the problem," you hissed, your tone low enough that only he could hear.

"and yet, here we are." his voice dripped with mockery, his smirk daring her to react.

after dinner, the parents retreated to the patio, and you found yourself alone in the living room, the tension finally catching up with you. you pressed your fingers to your temples, trying to will away the headache building behind your eyes.

"you look tense," rafe said from behind you, his voice smug and far too close.

you didn't turn around. "what do you want?"

he stepped around the couch, leaning casually against the armrest. his presence loomed, filling the room with an unbearable heat. "just wanted to check on you. you seemed... distracted at dinner."

"go bother someone else, rafe."

he tilted his head, studying you with that infuriating smirk. "you're cute when you're angry."

your patience snapped. "god, i hate you."

"funny," he said, leaning closer, "because you didn't hate me when i had you—"

your hand shot out before he could finish, shoving him back with more force than you intended. his laugh was sharp, almost predatory, as he steadied himself.

"feisty," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "you know, you can keep pretending you hate me, but we both know the truth."

you glared at him, your chest heaving with anger. "the truth is, i can't stand you."

"is that why you let me—"

"stop," you snapped, cutting him off. your voice wavered, but you refused to let him see how much he got to you.

rafe's smirk softened, but only slightly. "whatever helps you sleep at night, baby."

and just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone with the storm raging in your chest.

you finally left tanneyhill, and you couldn't help the faint smirk tugging at your lips as they drove home. the evening had been a tense balancing act, but you'd survived it without any cracks showing. the hum of the car engine filled the silence, carter too engrossed in his phone to notice your jittery hands or the way you bit at the inside of your cheek. relief curled through you—he hadn't caught on.

back at home, you moved quickly. upstairs, you shed the day's pretence like a heavy coat, trading your pristine sundress for panties and a loose t-shirt that barely hung off one shoulder. your hair fell in disarray, strands mussed from the humid night. you crossed the room and unlocked your window, pushing it open just enough to let in the cool night air. crickets chirped in the stillness, their song a steady, rhythmic backdrop as you hit play on a playlist, the low hum of music filling the room.

you climbed into bed, knees tucked close to your chest, trying to ignore the sharp tug of restlessness in your gut. you hated this feeling—this anticipation that set you on edge. it was ridiculous. infuriating. you despised him, loathed every arrogant smirk and cutting remark. and yet...

your eyes flicked to the window. you cursed under her breath, annoyed at yourself, annoyed at him, annoyed at the way her pulse quickened at the thought of his shadow slipping through the frame.

minutes passed. then, the unmistakable scrape of sneakers against the lattice. your heart stumbled. you clenched your fists beneath the blanket, willing herself to stay calm. to stay unaffected.

the window creaked open further, and rafe slipped inside, his movements smooth, deliberate, as though he belonged there. he landed silently, his sharp blue eyes locking on yours in the dim glow of your bedside lamp.

"thought you might've changed your mind," he said, his voice low, cutting through the quiet. he leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, his broad shoulders filling the small space with ease.

"wishful thinking," you shot back, your voice colder than you felt. you sat up, folding your arms as if to create a barrier between them. "what do you want, rafe?"

"same thing you do," he said, his mouth curving into that infuriating smirk. "you left the window open."

your cheeks burned. you hated how easily he read you, how he could peel back your carefully crafted exterior without even trying. "doesn't mean i wanted you to show up."

"sure," he drawled, stepping further into the room. his gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, making your skin prickle. "is that why you're all dressed up for me?"

you scoffed, pulling the blanket tighter around you. "you're delusional."

"maybe," he said, inching closer, "but you didn't stop me from climbing in, did you?"

"maybe i didn't hear you," you snapped, though your voice faltered slightly. his presence was suffocating, the air between you thick with something you refused to name.

he tilted his head, watching you with that same maddening intensity. "you're a terrible liar."

"and you're a terrible person," you shot back, your tone sharper now. you needed to regain control, to push him back, even if it was only verbal. "what, did you get bored tormenting someone else? or is this just another game to you?"

his smirk faltered for the briefest moment, replaced by something darker, something that made your stomach twist. he stepped closer, towering over you now, and you hated how small you felt under his gaze.

"you think i'm here to play games?" his voice was quieter now, but no less dangerous. "trust me, if this were a game, i would've gotten bored a long time ago."

your breath hitched, your resolve wavering under the weight of his words. you hated him. hated the way he made you feel—off balance, exposed, vulnerable.

"then why are you here?" you asked, your voice softer, but no less biting.

he didn't answer, not right away. instead, he leaned in, his hands bracing against the bed on either side of you, caging you in. his face was so close now, his breath warm against your cheek.

"because you can't stop thinking about me," he said finally, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "just like i can't stop thinking about you."

your pulse roared in your ears, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and something far more dangerous. "you're full of yourself."

"maybe," he admitted, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. "but i'm not wrong."

your hands itched to shove him away, to push him out the window and slam it shut forever. but instead, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down as if to make a point.

"shut up," you muttered against his lips before kissing him, hard and unforgiving, your frustration spilling out in every movement.

he didn't resist. he never did. his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, each touch igniting a fire that burned away your better judgment.

you hated him. and you hated yourself for wanting him. but in this moment, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, the lines between hatred and desire blurred beyond recognition.

with your thighs exposed, rafe looked down at the sensitive skin, wanting nothing more than to bury his face there. you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyebrows cinched together. 

rafe kicked his shoes off before his fingers hooked though the soft material of your panties. you watched has he slid the garment down your legs, your head falling back as he then pinned your thighs to the tops of his shoulders. "rafe.." you breathed, reaching down your fingernails lightly dragged across his skin. he hummed, cupping your soaked pussy as you gasped. 

"mmm, use your words baby," he traced your folds, losing his mind internally, he couldn't wait to taste you. you blinked hazily when you felt his thumb tease your sensitive clit.

rafe's tongue lapped against your clit, your back arching off the bed as he splayed a hand across your stomach. letting out a whine, rafe ate you like a man starved. 

you fought the urge to shut your thighs around his head when two of his fingers poked at your entrance, you could feel him smirking into your pussy proudly. he groaned when he thrusted them into you, the pretty sounds you were making driving him up the wall. 

the coil in your stomach only grew tighter until rafe had your thighs trembling. you cried out, your first orgasm of the night ripping through your lungs. rafe grinned as your hips stuttered in a poor attempt to chase the feeling of his tongue. 

you stared at the ceiling for a moment then looked at him as the tips of your fingers tugged at his shirt. he tore it off, his toned body highlighted by only the salt lamp shining. he flipped you over and grinded his erection into your ass. he shamelessly rut against you while leaning down, kissing you sloppily, both of them moaning. 

taking himself out of his pants, he wrapped a large hand around your throat, his arm flexing, thrusting into you harshly. "oh my- fuck rafe!" you wailed, your walls immediately clenching around him. rafe shut his eyes, his mouth ghosting over yours as he fucked into you hard and slow.

"you miss me?" he breathed, going deeper with each thrust, yanking at your top to pull you against him. your walls stretched deliciously around his length as you whined, "yes- god. i missed your dick." 

rafe smirked proudly as he rolled you over and slot himself between your thighs before picking up the pace again. 

you looked up at him, already completely fucked out as he pawed at your tits through your top before tearing it off. you began moving your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts as he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, his toned stomach slapped against your clit as you both rolled your hips in desperation to feel each other finish. "ah fuck," rafe rasped as your nails tore into his back. it wasn't long before you both started shuddering with pleasure, the waves of your orgasms rushing over your bodies. 

"shiit." rafe drawled, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling out. you whined at the empty feeling, clarity setting in again as you looked up at the boy once more with a satisfied but exhausted sigh. 

he rolled off of you, catching his breath but taking a moment to smirk as he gazed down at your body. "christ delilah," he rasped, adjusting his pants before he handed you the top you were wearing. your movements stuttered before sitting up and taking it from him, slowly pulling it back over your head before grabbing his from across the bed and handing it to him. 

silence engulfed the room, both of them without a word to say as he pulled it over his head.  

you finally spoke up, "you can stay the night.. if you want." you shrugged before getting up and walking over to your drawers, grabbing a fresh pair of panties. rafe's mouth opened as if he were about to say something before shutting, he stretched and scratched at the back of his neck. 

guilt radiated off him as he looked down, "sorry i uh, i've gotta deal with somethin'... another time." you said nothing, just nodded your head before disappearing into the bathroom. rafe stayed for a moment, waiting for you to come out to say goodbye but left figuring you were angry. 

you washed your hands before coming out to find an empty bedroom, clenching your jaw for a moment you slipped under the covers and flipped off your salt lamp, hoping to easily drift off to sleep. 

you woke slowly, the pale morning light filtering through the curtains and painting the room in soft gold. you stretched under the covers, your hand sliding across the sheets. they were cold, empty. you frowned, the absence sinking into your chest like a weight. you rolled onto your side and pulled the duvet higher over your head, wishing, for once, that rafe would still be there, his arm heavy over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. but no such luck. your room was silent, the stillness deafening.

you dragged yourself up, the ache of disappointment lingering as you set about starting your day.

a quick text to cora later, and the plan was set. the country club was as good a place as any to escape—fresh air, a cold beer, and some much-needed distance from everything that had been clawing at your mind. by the time you arrived, the weight of the morning had lessened just a little. cora was already there, leaning against the entrance with that easy grin of hers, making your mood lift even more as you grabbed your gear and made your way to the course.

you took a deep breath, the scent of freshly cut grass filling your lungs, the cool breeze teasing your hair. you cracked open a beer from the cooler you'd brought, the chill of it a welcome distraction from the storm still swirling inside you. lining up your first shot, you tried to focus, but then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of rafe's voice, laughing too loud, too carefree.

your heart skipped. you snapped your head up, eyes already searching the course. and there he was.

rafe. as obnoxious as ever. he was stumbling between swings, a golf club hanging limply in his hand, topper trailing behind him with that idiotic grin on his face. they were both clearly drunk. of course they were. the sight of him had your teeth grinding before you even realised it. your jaw tightened, fingers curling around your beer can. where the hell did he go last night?

"you good?" cora's voice cut through, pulling you back to the present.

your gaze flicked to your friend, trying to smooth out the glimpse of annoyance that must've been obvious on your face. "yeah," you said quickly, forcing a tight smile, though you knew it didn't reach your eyes. "let's keep playing."

but the game was lost the moment your eyes found him again. there was no escaping rafe. no matter how much you tried to focus on your swing, every part of you was keyed into the sight of him across the course—his loud, careless laughter, the way his stupidly perfect smile twisted when he looked back at you. it was all a reminder of how little you actually controlled, of how much he still got under your skin.

"you're staring," cora pointed out, glancing over at you with a knowing look, but you quickly redirected your gaze, your face going cool again.

"not staring," you muttered. "just trying to focus."

cora didn't press, but you could feel your friend's eyes linger for a moment longer. you didn't need to know the truth, not about that—the part of your life that still felt like a secret you weren't ready to untangle. especially not after last night.

rafe hadn't just messed with your head—he'd taken everything you'd ever built between your rivalry and twisted it into something far worse, something that made your stomach churn every time you even thought about it.

but that didn't mean you were about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had that power over you. not when you had control of this moment.

except every time you looked up, there he was again. stumbling, grinning, so damn sure of himself. everything about him infuriated you—how he seemed to move through life with the kind of cocky grace that made every other guy look like an amateur. how his gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long whenever you dared meet it. how, despite your best efforts to push him away, it only made him linger more.

at one point, you hit a shot that sent your ball flying off the green, and as you moved to retrieve it, you felt a familiar presence behind you.

"nice shot," rafe called out, his voice thick with amusement. he had appeared out of nowhere, standing just behind you, making your skin prickle with unwanted awareness. you refused to let your shoulders stiffen, but damn, it was hard to ignore him when he was this close. you could feel the heat of his gaze even before you turned.

you bit back the urge to snap at him, but it was there, clawing at the back of your throat. he was the reason you couldn't concentrate. he was the reason you felt this constant simmering heat under your skin, the thing that kept you up late at night, unable to push him out of your thoughts.

"don't know why you're out here, rafe," you said instead, forcing a biting tone. "shouldn't you be out reeking havoc somewhere else?"

he smirked, taking a step closer. "maybe," he said, and your heart stuttered for a fraction of a second. "but i figured i'd grace you with my presence." his voice dropped lower, teasing, but there was something darker underneath it. "you didn't seem like you were having much fun without me."

your stomach clenched. "fun? not when you're around, no."

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "how mature of you."

"whatever, don't pretend you care about what i'm doing," you snapped, but even as you said it, you could feel the tension building, stretching thinner by the second. every word that passed between you was another match tossed onto the fire, and neither of you could seem to stop adding fuel to it.

he didn't say anything else for a moment, his gaze running over you like he was calculating something—figuring you out, peeling back another layer you'd rather keep hidden.

when he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, more dangerous. "you know, i didn't forget about last night."

you froze, your breath catching in your throat. your eyes narrowed instinctively, but the warning in your chest only deepened.

"keep talking, rafe," you said coldly, your hands curling into fists at your sides instinctively.

he took another step closer, his scent hitting you like a punch—cologne, smoke, and something else you couldn't quite place. he was too close now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that it was suffocating.

"oh, i will," he murmured, his voice low, lips twitching into that infuriating, maddening smirk. "but you're not gonna like where it goes."

you clenched your jaw, refusing to let the flicker of nervousness show. you hated him. but as he moved closer again, your feelings betrayed you—your body pulsing with an undeniable tension that made everything inside you scream to run, and yet... you couldn't.

not when he was right there. not when he was still the one thing that made everything else seem so damn insignificant.

just as you opened your mouth to retort, ready to snap back at him, cora appeared like a much-needed breath of fresh air. her voice cut through the tension like a knife. "hey, you two. enough with the glares and the bullshit, okay?"

cora's easy-going tone contrasted sharply with the fire that had been building between you, and somehow, it worked. you took a step back, not quite retreating but pulling yourself out of the storm that rafe was stirring up. your eyes shot one last look at him, but he didn't seem too fazed, just watching you with that infuriating smirk.

"yeah, well, i don't need this today," you muttered, not meeting rafe's gaze again as you turned to walk away, cora falling into step beside you.

cora shot rafe a pointed look, one that made it clear she wasn't about to entertain whatever game he was playing, before following you off the course.

once you reached the car, you felt the air settle between the two of you, your chest still tight with everything left unsaid. cora opened the door to the passenger side, tossing her golf bag into the back seat with an exaggerated sigh.

"you alright?" cora asked, watching you carefully as she slid into the car. her tone was quiet but knowing, the kind that suggested she wasn't about to let you off the hook so easily.

you clicked your seatbelt into place, staring out the window for a long moment before answering. "yeah, i'm fine," you said, though your voice didn't sound convincing even to your own ears.

cora raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "don't lie. what's going on with you and rafe?"

your breath caught at the question. you had hoped to avoid it. hoped—but cora wasn't one to back down once she got a sense of something being off. and after everything that had happened today, it wasn't going to stay buried for long.

"it's nothing," you said quickly, the words rushing out, but cora didn't let you off the hook.

"y/n," cora's voice was firm now, her eyes never leaving the road as they pulled out of the parking lot. "i saw the way he was looking at you, and i heard what he said. that wasn't just nothing. what is going on?"

you couldn't help the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your top, a nervous habit you hadn't been able to shake. you didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to acknowledge how messy everything had become. but cora's gaze was unwavering, and you knew she wasn't going to let up until you spilled something.

sighing, you leaned back in her seat, turning your head to glance at cora. "we... we hooked up," you muttered, the words coming out like they tasted bad on your tongue. "and now everything is... weird."

cora's eyes widened for a moment, then she glanced over at you, a playful but cautious grin tugging at her lips. "rafe cameron? really?" she raised an eyebrow, a mix of disbelief and amusement dancing in her eyes.

"yeah, i know," you shot back, bitterness coating your words. "i'm just as disgusted by it as you are."

"you're not disgusted," cora countered, her voice softer now, more understanding. "you're... frustrated. because there's something between you two. and you're fighting it."

you shook her head, exhaling sharply. "don't you think i know that? don't you think i've been fighting it this whole time? i hate him. i hate him." you gritted your teeth, your fingers curling into your palms. "but it's like nothing else matters when he's around. it's... it's maddening, cora."

there was a long pause as they drove, the air in the car feeling thick with the unspoken tension. cora didn't say anything right away, giving you the space to process your own thoughts.

"this is insane," you muttered after a moment, more to yourself than to cora. "he's a jerk, he's volatile... everything about him is wrong. but it's like i can't... not be around him."

cora's voice broke through the silence, softer now, with a trace of sympathy. "he's messing with you. and you're letting him."

"i know," you whispered, your gaze fixed on the road ahead as the words settled heavily in your chest. "i can't help it. i don't know what to do anymore."

cora glanced over at you, her expression still open and unjudging. "look, i'm not gonna say anything to anyone. this stays between us. but... you're gonna have to figure this out. because if you don't, it's just gonna keep eating at you."

you nodded slowly, the weight of everything pressing on your shoulders. "i don't know how to fix it."

cora smiled, you usual teasing grin softening. "don't worry about it. you'll figure it out. eventually."

"i hope so," you replied quietly, your fingers tapping absently on the window, the thoughts of rafe still swirling around in your head, no matter how hard you tried to push them away.

notes ; hello !!!!!! god im so sorry i've been awol for ages, uni is hectic but anyway i hope you enjoy !

series taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @i2rapunzel @rafestoothbrush @drewizz @6r4cie @akobx @seehowitshines @rafeswhoooreee @vbstrewbieri @waywarddiplomatfarmmonger-blog @ariivv01 @k4yr14 @luvrcndy @teleishachrisy @importantbeardcupcake @vanessa-rafesgirl @ltristessedureratoujours @cutkoskysnix1 @kennedywxlsh @funnyalpca @eeveelizabethh @burnburritono @marleymarleymarleymarley @katiebby04 @simplymaeee @hoppinbunny @slutglimreqpers ( lachesism taglist )  in order to stay on this taglist you must interact with the posts !

[genderqueerdykes]

can my neighbor stop fucking cat calling me the second my ass is visible to them. you're the reason i don't stand on my porch anymore. why can't someone just stand on their goddamn porch and tend to their plants without someone getting so horny they have to let that person know. yeah no buddy, that wolf whistle wasn't flattering. it made me wanna throw hands. actually i'm not flattered that you can't control yourself for nanoseconds and have to let me know about it. keep that shit to your fucking self. needlessly sexualizing strangers isn't a goddamn compliment to them- it makes them feel like they are prey, and what do you think that makes you ... ?

[lesbianalanwake]

Severance S2E3..... I'm chewing through drywall:

-- Natalie referred to the Board as "it"..... it? it??

-- speaking of that: Natalie? are you good?? how literal is the concept of speaking for the Board? Natalie??

-- Milchick packing away the box of paintings (and it doesn't quite fit.... girl....), and Cobel driving away from Helena's invitation to speak to the Board (sleeping in her car.... where is she driving to)..... obsessed with them and everything they do, actually. enemy of my enemy please god 🙏

-- Devon and Gretchen meeting the innie version of someone they love, and seeing how innocent/lost/earnest that person is, how they echo the person they know but less closed off and worn down..... Devon's face when she said Mark's a good egg, and Gretchen's face when Dylan G said he would make her proud..... oh I'm chewing through drywall AND glass. (the stark contrast to the contempt that Helena's father shows towards Helly..... ough)

-- the unhinged conversations between Cobel and Helena..... careful flat affect and measured tone while simmering with cold rage. makes me wonder if it's a "raised by Lumon" thing, which makes me wonder about Miss Huang and her impassive mannerisms..... Miss Huang get behind me. Dylan worrying about her.... 😢

-- Dr. Asal Reghabi's first in-person appearance: beat a man to death with a bat. Dr. Asal Reghabi's second in-person appearance: unsevered Mark's brain. what WILL she do next. how long did she work for Lumon? going to make a tentative guess that it might have been for quite some time, because she's got those funky off-putting ways of saying things, but she emotes a bit more than, say, Cobel. so maybe more of a Milchick type

-- Lumon wanting to edit Ricken's book.... trying to absorb and rewrite every part of the narrative in order to control it. a dumb out of touch self-help book, but it meant something in an environment stripped of most anything else, just like Miss Casey's "wellness" sessions meant something to the goat people. scraps of some kind of meaning, and now getting twisted and taken away. I am actually sick in the head over it

-- we have GOT to get a copy of The Body Keeps The Score down there to them next

-- that has to be Helena because 1) we don't spend time with her that isn't driven by another character, and 2) Irving's instincts. and girl must have studied the security footage closely because she's got a lot of Helly's mannerisms.... but not all of them, and so much of what she does is stilted or subdued. even the register of her voice isn't quite right. studying Britt Lower's microexpressions and body language under a microscope like who ARE you

-- Reghabi talking about 5 brain waves while the macrodata files emphasize the number 4..... chewing thoughtfully on it..... the input survey also has 5 questions. is this anything

-- also pondering how Reghabi says the only way for Mark to get information in and out of the severed floor is through reintegration. locked down tight with code detectors, and an afterimage is too ephemeral, but information is encoded within the brain, and that can't be locked down so tightly despite every effort to control it.... you carry it with you.... the body keeps the score

[jirishnesensei]

Mirio Togata x Reader | Isekai AU [18+]

Warming up to you ch3. It's an anime

⊱ Pairings - mirio 3rd year student x reader

⊱ About - Boku No Hero Academia was your favourite anime. You watched it every week when a new episode came out, but what if you were transported into the world?Having no clue how you got there and you're being accused of being a part of the League Of Villians.Suffice to say, it's not the best way to start the show.

⊱ Warnings/tags - 18+ (eventually), fluff(for the most part), angst, smut, fem reader, romance, pining, SLOW BURN, swearing, friends to lovers, death, jealousy, she falls first he falls harder, mirio is mean (with reason), first everything, sassy mirio, fangirl reader, unrequited love

⊱ status - ongoing

⊱ chapters - 3/x

⊱ word count - 2.4k

A/N - Hello! omg it's been a long time coming posting this story here XD just wanted to say thank you for those that hearted, reblogged and all that! This is unfathomably one of my most prized stories that's been giving me a migraine for years (seriously, and still ongoing) but I hope you enjoy it as much as I have (⁠θ⁠‿⁠θ⁠) okay bye!

Mirio decided to have Sir Night eye ask you the questions about Shie Hassaikai, which was smart on his account.

Now you were both heading over to Sir Nighteyes agency bright and early in the morning. Mirio definitely didn't know what sleeping in meant. You yawned obnoxiously loud to maybe catch the attention of a certain blonde and it was a success going off of the look he gave you.

"You slept for at least 9 hours."

"Yeah, well I need twelve. Thirteen if I need to do things during the day." You answered sarcastically. It's like the boy forgot you fell down thousands of feet from the sky not even 24 hours ago. He didn't entertain anymore conversation after that and it was a fairly quick walk to the agency.

Mirio stopped infront of a large set of green doors. Pushing one open while gesturing for you to go in first. You walked through, already feeling the cold air conditioning hit your bare skin.

You were given the lovely opportunity to wash your face and brush your teeth, but you were still dressed in the same clothes from your world. You felt gross, and that's putting it lightly.

"His office is this way." Mirio says as he walked down the long corridor then started his way up the signature spiral staircase. Your body was getting tingly at the thought of meeting Sir Nighteye. What were you going to tell him? He isn't even nice... so what if he doesn't even give you a chance to speak? What if he wants you to make him laugh?! Oh god you were terrible at jokes. Now that you were hopelessly scared, you tugged on Mirios white collard shirt, making him look down at you.

"Mirio I don't know how to make Sir Night eye laugh." You didn't see it but Mirio's eyes widened at how you knew one of his mentors rules. He didn't allow you to hear the shock in his voice though.

"Don't worry, if you're telling the truth then Sir won't care if you make him laugh or not." You nodded limbly. Still a bit shaken from the idea of meeting the Sir Nighteye.

When you reached the top of the stairs and walked down one last corridor, Mirio held the door knob and looked back at you. Your head hung low, it was obvious you were psyching yourself out. He rolled his eyes, not liking how his sense of hero duties were clouding his judgement with the fact that you could be a villain. Nonetheless he faced you and held your shoulders. The contact makes your skin crawl and hold your breath and for the first time since looking at him you actually notice how blue his eyes are. Like the deepest part of the ocean where sunlight can't even reach. Okay, that's leaning more towards black... but that's just how much melanin is in his eyes.

"Stop worrying, everything will be fine." He gives you one of those hero smiles, the kind that melts your heart and nearly your legs too, but you had atleast some kind of self-control. For now.

Mirio turns back to the door so you can get distracted by his broad back instead and knocks twice before walking in, now beaming brightly as the Mirio Togata you and every bnha fan knew. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that.

"Good morning Sir!" 

You peer past him and see the one and only Sasaki Mirai, aka, Sir Nighteye seated by his desk.

"Mirio. is this the girl?" Sir Nighteye looks you over and it feels like his gaze pierced straight through your very soul. He was so much more intimidating in person. How in the world did Midoriya have the guts to make fun of All Might under these circumstances?

"Yes Sir. She claims she has information on Shie Hassaikai." Sir Nighteye nods then thanks Mirio for the notice before telling him to head off to campus. As Mirio turned to leave, you look at him with pleading eyes to not leave you alone, ofcourse he doesn't stay... but a girl can dream, right?

The door slams shut and now it was just you and Sir Nighteye in the room. You glanced around, trying not to make direct eye contact with him and instead focused on all the All Might merchandise that was everywhere. There was actually way more than they focused on in the anime...

"Do you know what my quirk is?" Sir Nighteye startles you out of your daze and his cold voice makes you stand straighter like you're in the military.

"Yes sir! It's foresight! You are able to look into a person's future upon contact with them for an hour!" You yelled this as if you were being graded for a test. And the outcome of that test is either prison or freedom. It was only now that you realize if you can't back up your claim, you could be in some serious touble here. Sir Nighteye hmph'ed as if satisfied with your answer and then stood up from his chair, making you flinch slightly.

"So you know what will happen if I look into your future." He states calmly, removing his glasses to clean while walking around his desk and then leaned his lower back on it. Hunching slightly from his tall posture.

You nod, unsure where he was going by stating that.

"Tell me something only I would know miss..?"

"Uh (y/n)... (y/n) (l/n)" You answered.

"Miss (y/n)" He gestured for you to continue. You visibly gulped. Was it getting hot in here? It feels like it's getting hotter. What do you tell him? You could tell him about Midoriya being the successor for One For All... that should definitely prove it, but that could land you in big trouble for even knowing such a secret. You pondered and pondered over what to say, making Sir Nighteye grow impatient.

"If you don't know-"

"No wait! I do... I do know, I just don't know which scene to tell you about-" Sir Nighteye grew confused by your choice of words, but gave you a few more minutes.

You bit your lip and wrung your fingers, desperately trying to will your mind to think of something, anything. You were very nervous if it wasn't painfully obvious already.

"Oh! I know!" Sir Nighteye looked at you intently as you were about to speak. You knew exactly what to say now.

"I can tell you exactly what happened-" you start, Sir Nighteye leans a bit forward, not fooling anyone with how intrigued he was on how you could supposedly tell them exactly where Shie Hassaikai is.

"-when Midoriya came to request for a work study here!" You finished with a winning smile as if you just said the numbers to the lottery. Sir Nighteye visibly sunk at what you just said then pushed his glasses back up, clearly not impressed by your revelation.

"Wait, just hear me out atleast! Wouldn't it be crazy if I could tell you exactly what happened in this room without ever being in it? Even what happened before Midoriya and Mirio walked into the room?" You urged. Sir Nighteye sighed, looked over his shoulder at his All Might clock then back at you. 

"Okay fine, I'll bite. Tell me what happened. Before Midoriya and Mirio walked in."

You nod earnestly and rack up all of your memories from that scene. You had watched this season so many times, you couldn't get it wrong the one time you needed to truly remember it.

"Bubble girl, your assistant, was telling you about the incident that was linked to Shie Hassakai and the league of villains. I'm not sure where the place was... but you were watching an All Might video while she spoke to you and because she wasn't being humorous enough, you tied her to some torture tickling machine and started to tickle her!" You finish off like you just convinced your mother that it wasn't you who broke her favourite dish. Eagerly waiting for Sir nighteye's response.

He was definitely shocked going off of his expression. You told him near to the tea what was happening before Mirio and Midoriya walked in which so to speak should be impossible. He pushes his glasses up again, not wanting to show more of his emotion and spoke.

"What happened when they entered?" You bit your bottom lip.

Did I get something wrong?

You cleared your throat and tried to remember what happened after, "You told Midoriya that he has to make you laugh for you to consider him as an intern and so he imitated All Might, which I thought was really funny, but you accused him of ridiculing All Might and then told him his wrinkles were in the wrong places and then... you both just kinda went at it and fanboyed over All Might." You laughed nervously.

"Oh! and before you stamped Midoriyas papers you made him spar with you! Which he lost... but he completely dodged all of your All Might posters, right?!" You hold your breath. You could feel your palms sweating. You were desperately trying to get Sir Nighteye to believe you here, but his stoic expression was so difficult to read through. He sighs once more and walked over to you. You step back in fear, but he grabbed your shoulder to keep you in place and used his quirk on you. You were hypnotized the second that he did, eyes fixated on his. They were actually moving like gears... tiny, mini gears and it was incredible. Sir Nighteye lets go of you and then stood up straight again.

"It's near to impossible that you could tell me that, but I still don't understand how. What is your quirk?" He looks down at you so intensely. Your legs really felt like they were going to give in at any moment. You laugh awkwardly under his gaze that now felt like they could see right through your skin. Like you're talking intestines and everything. It made you uncomfortable.

"Its not a quirk... it's um... haha, you're gonna think this is funny, but it's an anime." His expression stays the same, as if waiting for the punchline.

I knew he wanted a joke!

"I uh, gosh," You awkwardly rub your forehead, "I don't know how else to explain it..." You look down to the ground, feeling too exposed to look him directly in the eye anymore. Sir Nighteye realized this and turned on his heel to sit back down by his desk, gesturing for you to take a seat opposite. You take his offer and sit down then suck in a decent breath, preparing for the millions of questions to follow.

"I'm not from this planet. Or whatever this place is. Back where I'm from this place is known as My Hero Academia. An anime that people around the globe watch."

⊱ Next chapter: Coming soon!

⊱ Take me to the prev chap!

Taglist - @the-faceless-bride @distinguishedoafbiscuitopera

Dividers by - @cafekitsune and @strangergraphics

[yanderes-galore]

Would you do a yandere Sanji (One Piece) concept?

YES! He's single handedly one of my favorite characters so I hope I get things right!

❗️Some spoilers for Sanji's backstory in Whole Cake Island Arc❗️

Yandere! Sanji Vinsmoke Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Clingy behavior, Submissive yandere, Jealousy, Violence, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Attachment issues/Fear of abandonment, Stalking, Isolation, Delusional behavior, Blood, Implied murder, Brief mentions of marking, Tampered food, Possible cannibalism implied, Possible drugging implied, Forced relationship implied.

Sanji himself can be an intense and clingy yandere due to his past.

He's someone who wants to please, always has been since he was young.

He's had a rough time growing up which affects how he acts with his obsession.

For example, Sanji might be against trapping his obsession in a cell as he knows how it feels.

He's loyal and caring towards you, even self sacrificing like he is with most of the crew.

Sanji would take anything you gave him with a smile.

Which isn't healthy but he doesn't care as long as you pay attention to him.

Sanji works as a romantic yandere most of the time, which is what this concept focuses on.

When he finds someone he loves... He no doubt will do anything to pursue them.

Sanji is probably one of the most affectionate yanderes on the Straw Hat crew.

He's flirtatious, sticking around you while planning ways to earn your attention

Out of all the Straw Hats, Sanji would probably be the most submissive with his obsession.

Don't get me wrong, Sanji isn't always like that.

I'm just saying if his obsession asked him to, the man is on his knees with hearts in his eyes.

Honestly to him, your word is law at times, but he's no pushover.

Sanji will definitely swap his demeanors if you asked him too.

Yet if anyone is around you, he's quick to be an intimidating presence.

Sanji can be a rather controlled yandere despite being intense.

He's possessive and easily jealous though....

Sanji wants to protect and impress his obsession, completely unwilling to watch you throw yourself into danger.

He treats you with manners, like a gentleman despite his pirate origins.

Although, considering his biological family, it makes sense.

Man... He'd do downright anything for your love.

He'll wait for you, defend you, cook for you, anything.

As long as he has your attention, he's a happy man.

Even if you just choose to smile at him or thank him for something, he's swooning.

Sanji might also fall into the pathetic yandere category around you.

However, as I said before, he isn't always like that.

There's times when Sanji will be aggressive, jealous, or overall possessive.

He'd most likely form rivalries with others, especially Zoro.

He loathes the idea of Zoro winning your heart over him.

He's not even a gentleman who's willing to observe and tend to you!

Sanji, while acting like a gentleman, can sometimes be a creep.

He stalks you, yet never likes to admit that's what he's doing.

He's a bit delusional, telling you he just... want to attend to you?

He's your bodyguard now, like it or not.

At first you don't mind because, well, the crew has a tendency to be targeted by others.

Yet you can't excuse the rumors you hear of Sanji rummaging through your clothes or belongings in general.

You just seem to know it's him when things go missing.

He probably won't really want to admit to it when you confront him either.

He might stop when you tell him to... but no promises.

If Sanji was obsessed with something, he'd probably practice being dedicated to you.

He hasn't loved someone as intense as he does with you.

It's strange for the crew to see Sanji indifferent to a pretty lady, instead focusing on you.

Normally he's a big flirt... yet it looks like you've charmed him.

It's interesting how fast Sanji can swap his behavior around you.

Sanji could be over protective or worked up over you.

Maybe he's having an argument or overall just fighting with someone else about you.

But once everything is taken care of, he's practically on his knees in front of you like he's yours to command.

Sanji could go from kicking someone half to death... to kissing you senseless.

Everything he does is for you when he's obsessed.

Even if you turned him down, even if you said you weren't ready to date...

He'll patiently wait for you, all while being incredibly clingy like usual.

Now, would Sanji kill over you?

Usually Sanji knows when to stop.

He'd probably get into fights or hurt someone bad... but usually they can recover.

However... If Sanji snapped, probably due to seeing you hurt or taken from him...

He'd snap, see red, and by the end of it is probably covered in blood.

Sanji sees no issue with this if it's for you.

It's ironic considering his father deemed him a failure for not being an emotionless assassin.

Sanji is far from emotionless, in fact he has no shame in expressing himself around his crew.

Yet the man sometimes acts like an assassin if it means he's protecting who he loves.

He hates scaring you though, often coming up to you to check if you're alright.

Even if his suit is wet with blood.

Towards most, his jealousy starts small.

He grumbles a bit or gets moody.

Although, if he feels you're getting too close to someone else, he steps in.

Even if you aren't dating, he acts like you are.

Could be his delusions, could be him just trying to scare others off...

It's unclear, really.

He'd never harm his own crew too badly but he may get in fights with those not a part of the Straw Hats.

Like someone flirting with you on the street or something? That would be enough to set Sanji off.

But murder... well... that's reserved for if he thinks he'll lose you.

Something he doesn't think he could ever accept.

Sanji has different ways of displaying affection.

It always seems to be intimate in a way, but the intensity depends on his mood.

Most of the time his affection is soft, gentle, and loving...

He likes to pull you aside in private to pepper you in kisses.

He wants to cuddle you, to show you he can be the perfect man for you.

He'll hold you close in a hammock, tell you that you're the only one for him.

He's gentle when he kisses your lips, like you're porcelain.

He'd let you take the lead if you wanted just to see you happy.

He wants you to want him too.

If he's jealous, his affection is rougher.

He nips your skin a bit and often takes the lead.

He tries not to harm you, yet at the same time he wants to show everyone you're his.

He desperately wants someone to love him back for who he is.

In fact, while Sanji would probably attempt to change himself to have you love him... if you accepted him for who he is?

He's surprised... yet is completely enamored.

All Sanji wants is for you to accept him, to be your lover.

He yearns for love as he was rather isolated when younger.

Now he's scared once he has you he can lose you.

He'd never lock you away... but he'd never leave you alone either.

He doesn't want you to leave him which is why he's so submissive towards you.

Just tell him what you want... He'll do it.

If you want me to drop some more twisted things, Sanji insists on being the one to cook your food.

Which would, y'know, allow him to slip things in?

This is rare, but if Sanji is delusional enough, I can see him putting a drug in your food...

Or even a part of him if you want to go down that route.

That seems a bit too OOC... yet it's possible, depending on how dark you want to make him.

He doesn't want to breach your trust... yet curiosity may get the better of him.

Point is, yandere Sanji can either be sweet, submissive, and insecure who wants to protect you and jealous... or a total creep if you want to go down that route.

Regardless, in his own delusional little way, Sanji adores you.

He'd spoil you with affection and gifts...

He'd make sure you know he's the only one you can love.

Overall, he can probably be a sweet boyfriend...

If you don't look into his more creepy behavior.

[midwesthoughts]

the sheer staggered disbelief Seon had when " the preverted kidnapper ( aka HIS OWN WIFE) sent the thigh mole picture and lol Seon's first reaction was " that's not my wife, I know her better than anyone .. nope that's just photoshopped "

the whole dynamic of the phone call is just excitingly exhilarating and at the same time melancholic because we know these two are so damaged by their "own blood relations" that they are unable to bring forth their feelings for each other..

AND THE RAGING GAIT... THE HURDLIEY TAKING OFF THE JACKET .. THE ALMOST KNOCKING ON THE DOOR.....

Don't even start!!!!

like that was absolutely screaming hot for no reason , how he was panting, breathless, ready to burn that supposed "pervert" alive by going to Heejoo's room and you know what's funny given their relationship I'd think he'd never went into her room apart from " hey are you home?" checking up on her if she is sleeping or maybe by accident.

and hereeeeee we have full blown catching and falling on each other , weighing down the body weights...

...when he was pulling the duvet with full strength, deep down he was ready to take on that man who has made him worried scared that his wife is infact with someone else... the mere thought of confirming that fear made him literally shaking... absolutely loved the scene and afterwards where he turned into a sulking boy and told Heejoo for the interpreter vacancy 😂

BUT the second time after the fire blast in his office HE WAS NOT HAVING IT!!!

also side not but I noticed how their clothes were almost same colour... now i might be too much obsessed with WTPR but i think that was to show how both are similar in their desires for each other ... passionate but tainted with self doubt...

YYS has always been a phenomenal actor but the way he controls his gaze, making it switch soft to dark doubtful is just AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AGAIN THE HAND SHOT... AND love the detail of Heejoo's wrist watch making into the frame..

the way he was ready to check for himself the MOLE😩 and considering they were holding back for 3 years and in Seon case more than that .. IT'S CRAZY ... BONKERS how the sexual tension was scorching through my screen.

THE HAND PLACEMENT.....

* screams into nothingness*

absolutely love how Seon ate his own words "i know my wife better than anyone" only to be brought down to this pictured above ... like dude we know you are totally irrecoverably love your wife.

also the fact that he noticed Heejoo is uncomfortable on the kitchen table, that switched the place and he picked her up bridal style to the room.

forever our " action speaks louder" boy with our " scream the love you have for me " girlie...

they match each other's freak/obsession/want to the core!

I might need a breather after this whole write up🫢

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Golden Girl Texts

Written for @jolapeno's Dear-uary challenge. I chose to do texts between Dieter and Golden Girl throughout their friendship. General warning for drug and drink mentions... it is Dieter.

Thank you to @devineconjuring for her help and accepting my rambles. She also made the Sweets bride pic much more ~Golden~

The texts start from when Warren & GG get engaged and end at Dieter leaving for London at the end of So It Goes.

FYI, the texts receivers switch. Check the top first for whose phone it is. 🫡

Blue is Dieter. Pink is Golden Girl.

✨July, 2016✨ Dieter’s Phone

There’s that familiar hot pit in his stomach, it burns brighter as he zooms in on the ring. Fuck. He should have done something… or at least told you how he felt about you, but instead he stayed quiet, finding solace in illicit substances and people. He’ll respond tomorrow. Right now, he’s going to pop some pills, fuck someone, and try to forget the text. 

✨September, 2016✨ GG’s Phone

Oh Sweets, you're too good to everybody around you. Too good at finding the best in anyone. A broken man like him doesn't deserve your concern. He hits repeat on "Self Control" waiting for the lines that always makes him think of you:

Wish I was there, wish we'd grown up on the same advice And our time was right Keep a place for me, for me I'll sleep between y'all, it's nothing

✨April, 2017✨ GG’s Phone

Why are you zooming in on the picture of your husband's best man? Why do you wish he was sitting on the lounger next to you at this luxury five star resort? Why does Warren have to insist on working during your fucking honeymoon? Why is it only 1 PM and you've already had three piña coladas?

✨September, 2018✨ Dieter’s Phone

You got it. Your dream house with the picket fence and the pretty lawn. You got the large backyard with the picturesque view. You're going to fill that home with cool art, unique finds, and beautiful memories... and he'll just be a visitor.

✨January, 2020✨ GG’s Phone

New Years is bullshit. It's something he's always believed, but it's made worse when he has to watch the woman he's in love with inside her beautiful home kissing her husband at midnight. Bullshit.

✨August, 2020✨ Dieter’s Phone

You call Dieter, he answers all bleary eyed with a huge smile lighting his face at the first sight of you. You talk to him for three hours, comforting him, telling him all of this will be worth it. You put a package of cookies in the mail for him the next day.

✨September, 2020✨ Dieter’s Phone

Of course you're happy for him. Of course you don't know that when he stood at the altar in that dingy Las Vegas chapel and Anika walked out, his heart sank when he realized she wasn't you. Of course you don't know he's already miserable.

✨April, 2021✨ GG’s Phone

You knew it wasn't going to last, but you still wanted to believe that maybe one day Dieter would find his soulmate.

✨June, 2023✨ Dieter’s Phone

Damn, he's getting brave with these mixes.

A selection of songs from Dieter's playlist For Sweets #16

"Sun In The Morning" - Future Islands

"Pretty Please" by Dua Lipa

"Red Eyes" by The War On Drugs

"Amoeba" by Clairo

"The Color In Anything" by James Blake

"Bodys" by Car Seat Headrest

"Foreign Kicks" by We Are Scientists

✨June, 2023✨ Dieter’s Phone

Dieter doesn't answer, as amazing as Vegas sounds. Frankly, he's sick of Warren and his bullshit. He barely even recognizes him these days... he wonders what you think.

✨September, 2024✨ GG’s Phone

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

What up y'all! I return bearing what was originally gonna be survival!shipping fluff (I sketch the face first and drew young Garmadon instead of his full Oni version) but morphed into this because my ass was listening to Ethel Cain and Flower Face while drawing. Honestly I took it and wound up playing rendering/color and quite frankly I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out!

Translations: Vertical word- Destruction, bottom text- "You are no man, men don't have claws they can't cut."

Garmadon is my favorite character to use for these more painterly metaphorical art studies because:

A) He's my babygirl and favorite character, this is very well established lol

B) He's a fundamentally tragic character. He's doomed by the narrative in every sense of the word, he was a child when he was bit and after that he was left to deal with the fact that there was this evil snake in his head and his father as well as his brother (seemingly the only people he interacted with as a child) were now somewhat afraid of him. By his young adulthood his relationship with his family begins to strain due to their belief he's "turning evil" especially when going on the quest for tea leaves in Spinjitzu Brothers which shows he actually feels rather upset/angry that his brother and father believe he's turning evil simply because he experiences negative emotions (you know like a normal person) but then after he see's himself in the mirror in book three he goes on a downward spiral believing he's doomed to turn evil and be alone. We don't really know what happens after book four since the fifth and final book never came out but it's easy to assume that the tea didn't work and Garmadon is left all the worse for it coming out of the trip with his mental health in the gutter. We don't know to much about what happens in-between then and when he goes to Chen's Island but we do know that he doesn't seem to have gotten better since in Shatterspin he's still pretty self sacrificing and other people have begun to notice his less than stellar mental state.

Then we know what happens after the war, his mind is consumed and he is left to be less than himself. Even then when he comes back from the underworld we see that he still cares about his son, he kills the Great Devourer, he still wants to be a person. At the end of season two he gets what he wants, he cured, and for the time that he is fully himself for the first time in years he begins to apologize and try to make up for all that he did (even if it lowkey wasn't 100% his fault seeing he was being controlled by an evil snake), but even that didn't last. He dies, or moreover sacrifices himself to save Ninjago from Chen's Anacondrai army, but he dies a good person, he gets a memorial and family that mourns the truest version of himself. And then he was brought back again, ripped from the afterlife but only as half of himself, only the evil side, the side he spent thousands of years repressing until he couldn't anymore and regretted the second he was himself again. Despite that despite the fact it is supposedly only his evil side left he is still trying to be good, with the Garmadon comics showing his desire for redemption and his care for his son even in what he had thought to be his dying moments.

I think this is what makes one of the beginning lines from the Garmadon comics all the more tragic "Who knows what life he may have lived had he not been corrupted by the Great Devourer and cast into the underworld." He might have gotten to live a different life, he may have gotten to be happy and not fear what he might become, he might not have had to die multiple times over, but we'll never know because that's not what happened instead his fate was twisted by something completely and utterly out of his control.

So yeah he's a little fucked up and that's why he's my favorite! Hope y'all enjoyed my long winded rant, I have so many opinions on this man and don't even get me started on how much I hate crystalized for how it fucked up his development from the comics, but uhhh I think that's it!

If you want to you can check out my fic What Doesn't Kill You it's mostly me putting him in a jar and putting him under a microscope lol, other than that I hope yall have a great day/night and I'll see you when I appear from the mist again! PEACE OUT!

[valkierrie]

ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning(s): (Liam Gallagher smut), swearing, alcohol.

Plot: Y/N was considered by others to be tied down by her religion. She didn't think she needed anything apart from her bible, but upon meeting Liam Gallagher, he shows her the pleasures of life she was taught was taboo and opens her up to a world of Enlightenment.

Word count: 6.4K

A/N: A story I've been dying to get out, don't worry, I will be back on the requests for the Damon girlies and the one Noel request as well as Ian Brown. This story was hell to write and even worst to edit. Enjoy.

X

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The chapel was packed, as it normally was on Sunday mornings. The church was bigger than most and could hold twice the size. The soft smell of freshly baked chocolate chip biscuits filled the air as worship leaders served them to entering bodies of people. I chose to sit towards the front. Not the front row, but two or three rows behind it. My own biscuit rested on top of a white napkin and set beside my Bible on the wooden bench.  

As people filed, filling up the seats left and right, I wore the usual. A long-sleeved shirt tucked into a long skirt, finished off with the usual smile that was on my face when my eyes met someone else’s. There was the familiar sound of chatter as couples greeted couples and families greeted families.  

Pastor Thomas took his place on the high platform, behind the large, white altar. His tall figure stood before the church, looking over all of us with an intense level of authority. Which to some extent, one could argue he had. The chatters turned to murmurs before it went to silence. He had that power. He didn’t need to speak to command a room, but when he did, everyone listened. Myself included. I admired him dearly. Always impressed with his self-control and discipline—qualities I lacked and wished dearly to grasp with the same firm hold he had on them. 

“Good morning.” Pastor Thomas greeted. 

There was a chorus of greetings all throughout the congregation. 

“Now, today’s sermon is going to be a little different.” He glanced around at the rows of families, his face in an expression that I couldn’t quite decipher. “Let’s have our little ones onto the room next door, please.” He signalled for one of the worship leaders, who was guided the kids towards himself.  

Parents ushered their small children towards the worship leader, some tinkering or fixing their clothes before nudging them towards him. He led them out of the large worship hall we were in and took them elsewhere. There were small conversations and shuffles as the transition occurred. 

Pastor Thomas gathered everyone’s attention back. “Right.” He coughed. “Dear brothers and sisters in Christ—” His voice falters, as if the titles were poison at the edge of his tongue. “Though, I hesitate to call you that. Let’s not lie in the house of the Lord, you are all sinners.”  

There was an echo of whispers all around the flock. 

“Yes, each and every single one of you.” Pastor Thomas didn’t waver; his tone was cold and convicting. “As I am very clearly pure in the eyes of the Father, I am your shepherd, and it is my duty to make sure your souls aren’t dragged to the pits of hell.”  

There was a small pause between his words, allowing us to take it all in. I wasn’t too sure I was taking it in well. I understood what he was saying, and it wasn’t anything new. He always spoke in this tone, but lately something strange had been simmering. I didn’t know how to go about it, really.  I found myself doing less of the expected head-nodding and seal-clapping, instead my brow rose.  I may have looked up to the man, but one couldn’t help but...inquire on his choice of words when he preached. I tried to orient myself in the way he preached, and the more I tried, the harder the feeling unsettlement settled. Even now, I was uncertain, but there wasn’t exactly anyone I could go about my thoughts with.  

“Today, I bring upon you a topic that has been plaguing our youths and poisoning them, worse than any alcohol and drug in the world.” He spoke gesturally, using his hands to emphasise his point. “Fornication. Sexual intercourse before marriage.” Pastor Thomas’ hands touched the pulpit softly, though his grip was firm. “This topic isn’t up for debate, it is clear in the book, First Corinthians, chapter six, verse eighteen. You are to ‘flee from sexual immorality’ but instead today what do I see? The complete opposite. One can only wonder what our Lord in heaven and what I think about it all.” 

There was silence, only sounds being made was the silent shuffling made by the movements of heads in agreement.  

“Even something as small as the thought of fornication is destined take you to eternal hellfire. Unless you follow me, your fate is sealed.” 

I adjusted my posture uncomfortably, moving my shoulders slowly. That last sentence felt targeted towards me specifically. Though there wasn’t any logical explanation or concrete evidence that it was, that didn’t stop my mind from betraying me. As of recently, I’ve been having... less than holier thoughts. The fleeting, unbidden thoughts. The kind that left small yet remanent wet patches on my undergarments. The yearning desire was strong, I didn’t understand why I felt this way, nor did I want to know. There was no way I was going to talk to anyone about it and risk the inevitable judgement that was to come. I couldn't. I picked up my Bible, like a sigil that was meant to protect me from the civil war in my mind. It wasn’t me anymore—the girl who found peace in a place like this. The sentiment was nothing show of a distant memory; I wasn’t so sure that I fit in anymore. 

“I decree today...” Pastors Thomas set his gaze firmly on the congregation with importance, as if the following words that would come out of his mouth would become the next testimonies of the New Testament. “That as long as you abide to my words, your soul will be saved. If you don’t, don’t expect to be remembered for anything aside from choosing to separate yourself from God, after all, no one mourns the wicked.” 

That was the last of what he said about it, and it left a dry taste in my mouth. Something felt wrong—something was wrong. Ironically, it felt like God was trying to tell me something at that moment. Pastor Thomas’ words covered my ears and his presence blinded my eyes. As the rest of the service went by, rather forgettably, my regard shifted to the glass windows. For what seemed like a few seconds, my thoughts drifted to what could have been, without any of it. The judgement or the expectation. The light peering through was bright, enticing, almost beckoning. Pastor’s Thomas’ words still lingered in my head as I walked home.  

“You finally back to the land of the living, love?” Eliza called out as I walked into the flat. Eliza, my darling antithesis of a flatmate, laid on the sofa, feet tucked under her as she applied layers mascara over her eyes. 

I sighed, removing my flats and leaving them beside the door. It took a few strides for me to reach the sofa and plop down beside her. 

“How was it?” She asked, her gaze still fixed on the small mirror on her lap. 

“Fine.” 

“Uh, oh,” she teased, “that sounds eventful.” 

“Eliza, please, save the sarcasm for another time. I’m not in the mood.” 

Eliza smirked, moving her gaze from the mirror to me. “What’s going on?” 

“Why do you think anything’s going on?” 

“You usually have that stupid smile on your face after ev’ry church visit.” 

A tired sigh escaped my lips. “Do you...” There was a flicker of hesitation in my tone. “At church today, something felt off...” 

Eliza rose a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Well...” I sat up, straightening my back. I wasn’t exactly sure how to sum up what was going through my mind in simple words. “Pastor Thomas was preaching about fornication.” 

“Is that what’s got your knickers in a bunch?” Eliza rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you once and I’ll say it again a million times, getting a few good shags once in a while won’t kill ya.” 

“It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it.” 

Eliza adjusted her position, turning her crossed legged self towards me, her head tilting ever-so sightly. 

“He was authoritative, it felt as if he was playing God—or he thought that he was God. It felt cultish.” I sighed, this time not out of tiredness, but in discord. “It’s stupid. Maybe I’m just overthinking it...” 

“It’s not stupid, you’re just...curious, that’s okay.” 

“It shouldn’t be like that though...right?” 

“How should I know, I haven’t been to a church in years, let alone picked up a bible.” Eliza snorted. 

The humour in the situation hadn’t caught up to me, Eliza could see that. She placed the tube of her mascara on the coffee table, grinning. “Tell you what—I’m going to the pub downtown with a couple mates, why don’t you come?” 

“A pub, really?” I blinked. 

“Hey, don’t knock it,” She laughed, using her knee to nudge mine. “A change of scenery’ll do you some good. In addition, you get to see me in ideal element—chugging down pints.” 

“Of course.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I wasn’t sure what prompted me to accept her invitation, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt, especially since it I was adamant that this was going to be a one-time thing.  

Eliza squealed, pulling me into a small hug as a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. 

The evening took over quicker than I had anticipated, and I found myself stood at the entrance of a dodgy building, adjusting the blouse Eliza had begged me to wear. 

“If you’re not going to wear anything flattering,” She had told me, rummaging through her closet. “Then at least wear this.” She had pulled out a small white blouse. The shirt was cropped at the bottom, the neckline was a low V-neck. Not low enough to give my mother a heart attack—just low. 

Eliza pulled me by the arm into the pub. The place was packed despite the size.  

“I swear,” Eliza tried to speak over the other loud conversations. “It’s never this crowded, must be a match day or summat.” She pulled me through the crowd of people. Her theory might have held validity because a few—a lot of a them wore jerseys. They stood, crowded near the bar, their gazes fixed on the small TV mounted on the wall. Screams and shouts were all over. 

Eliza led me to a small table towards one of the corner windows. She greeted the strangers sat there with a smile and a simple, “Alright?” 

There was an ensemble of greetings returned to her.  

“I brought me mate, Y/N.” Eliza nodded towards me.  

The row of eyes that fell onto me felt a bit intimidating. I gave them a simple wave before taking an empty seat. Eliza began chattin’ up one of her mates. It was clearly one she was very familiar with; anyone could tell by the way she moving her hand up and down his shoulder. From how he looked like and how Eliza had described him in prior conversations, I assumed it was her boyfriend, Alexander. I sat there awkwardly, not really sure what I could’ve done. My mind was all over the place and contrary to what Eliza had claimed, this was doing nothing to help. The yelling and rowdiness of it all rendered me unable to think clearly in the sloghtest. 

“I leave my seat for 3 seconds, and some bird’s already nicked it.” A voice broke my thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” I turned to the side, where the source of the voice came from, only to be greeted by a tall bloke. He stood with a lanky build, and short, shaggy, dark hair. He had a light blue jersey worn over his torso; the colour was almost as blue as his eyes. A lit cigarette dangled from his lips. I couldn’t lie; he looked quite fit under the low lights. 

“I said,” he repeated. “You’re in my seat.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling the fumes, tapping the butt of his cigarette. 

I was taken aback by the tone, and bit annoyed. “I didn’t see you sitting in it, nor did I see a name on it.” 

“Got a right gob on ya, don’t ya.” He crossed his arm.  

I opened my mouth, ready to say something, but whatever was about to come out of my mouth was cut short when Eliza approached. “Liam, finally. Didn’t see ya, was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” 

Liam, scoffed. “I wouldn’t show,” he mocked. “Yeah right. City’s playing United, like I’d miss that.” 

“’Course, good old Liam Gallagher just couldn’t stay away.” Eliza chuckled; she turned towards me. “Y/N, you’ve met Liam, right?” 

“Can’t say that I have.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Liam smirked; he turned to Eliza. “You’re—uh mate here stole my chair.” 

“Can’t steal something that doesn’t belong to you.” I retorted.  

“That’s Y/N for ya.” Eliza shook her head, laughing. She turned towards the bar. “I’m gonna get a drink. You two want anythin’?” 

“Just a pint for me, yeah?” 

I simply shook my head. 

“Suite yerself.” Eliza shrugged.  

“You not drinkin’?” 

I shook my head. “What’s it to you?” 

“Nowt, just askin’.” he chuckled, pulling up another chair that was left unattended. “You’re at a bar, figured you’d get a drink or summat, but then again...” His voice trailed off, and his gaze lowered to my chest, where a small, gold, crucifix necklace laid. 

“So, why’d you ask?” 

“Didn’t wanna assume.” Liam shrugged. He exhaled another cloud of smoke, allowing it to curl between us. His gaze was set on necklace once more before his eyes met mine. “What brings a bird like you out here, then?” 

“Stretching my horizons.” I responded light and sarcastically, placing my hands on my lap. 

“Right.” He rolled his eyes, tapping his cigarette against the table. “And I’m the bloody Queen.” 

“Eliza’s idea. She needs someone who isn’t pissed to take her back to the flat at the end of the night.” 

“Nice thing, that.” Liam nodded, as if processing the information. “That shirt also her idea?” He nodded towards my top. 

“Why d’you think that?” 

“It’s actually got a neckline. Gives a blokes summat interestin’ ‘bout ya to look at.” 

The statement caught me off guard, before I could respond, Eliza interrupted me once more, this time coming back with a long glass cup filled with the beverage Liam had requested, a cloud of foam overtaking the top. 

“Cheers, love.” He thanked Eliza. 

Eliza gave him a smile before returning to her other mates. Liam took sip of his drink.  

“You’ve ever had one of these?” 

I shook my head. 

“Tragic, you’re missin’ out. This is heaven, this.” 

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” 

“It is,” Liam nodded in agreeance. “You should get one.” 

“I don’t drink.” 

“Ah, you one of ‘em proper good girls?” He smirked. 

I didn’t like that question, at all. Liam could tell; the smirk grew wider. He kept going, as if getting a rise out of me was some kind of funny humorous thing. I didn’t feel like dignifying his taunts with a response. I stood up, ready to find Eliza or elsewhere to sit.  

Liam’s hand caught my arm with a gentle grip. “C’mon, I’m just takin’ the piss. Fair play an’ all that.” His tone was still the same, but I could tell that he wasn’t outright trying to mock me. 

“Right.” I pulled my arm away. 

Liam raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’ll back down.” 

I sat back down.  

Liam smiled. “Let’s try again.” He stuck out his hand towards me. “Liam. Liam Gallagher.” 

My eyes flickered from his hand to his face. “Y/N,” reluctantly, I took and shook it. “Y/N L/N.” 

Liam leaned back, his grin widening. “So, Y/N. You ever head of Oasis?” 

“Oasis?” I repeated, trying to figure out if the band held a place of familiarity. “I’m not sure that I have, what is it?” 

Liam chuckled. “Only the best band in the fuckin’ world.” 

“Is that right?” I rose a brow. “Why’s that?” 

“’Cause I’m in it.” Liam stated it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“That sounds biased.”  

“It’s not biased; It’s just a fact.” 

That was the first thing that evenin’ that managed to get a smile out of me, I didn’t know why. His confident demeanour almost made me want to believe him. The rest of the evening went by pretty fast with Liam keeping me ‘entertained’ with stories about his band. They were unusual for sure, but somehow, they had managed to tug at the corners of my lips or made a chuckle escape my lips before I could stop myself. 

By the time Eliza made her way back to me, the time was well past when I’d be in bed, and Eliza was stumblin’ about. 

“That’s my cue.” 

Liam nodded. I placed Eliza’s arm over my shoulders, my arm going around her waist for support, and helped her out of the pub. I wanted to say that I had a lousy time, but it wasn’t all bad. 

Eliza mumbled some slurred intelligible statements in an effort to convey something, whatever it may be. For someone so tall, she was pretty lightweight. It was darker outside than a had been when we arrived, the temperature seemed to have dropped as well, the cold air hit me like a slap to the face. Almost made me regret leaving the flat without a jacket. It made sense as to why Eliza had gone without out. She’d be too out of it to complain about the cold.  

We passed a strange-looking building; one I saw frequently on my way to church. It hadn’t paid much attention to it—mainly because it blended in well with the other buildings. Tonight, however, it was lit up. Coloured lights everywhere, mainly red ones. Women, many in various stages of scantily clad clothing, stood outside. Some leaned against the lamp posts while others were near the entrance or likely inside. 

I paid them no mind, I had no business with them—plain and simple. As I gently dragged Eliza forward and down the street, something caught my eye—rather someone. Coming out of the building was a tall man, a woman’s arm interlocked with his. I recognized him immediately, and holy fuck. 

Pastor Thomas. 

Pastor Thomas grinned as the woman pulled him forward. Their lips were moving, but I couldn’t quite make out what was being said. But from the smiles on both of their faces and the ease between them, as well as the way her face lit up with a grin when Pastor Thomas handed her a few note, it was obvious what was going on.   

There wasn’t a single bible in sight.  

Of course, I was aware that people had lives outside of church, but seeing him coming out of somewhere like that? There was no logical way to put the pieces together without something being wrong. I couldn’t make sense of it. 

It should have been obvious what was going on, but my brain supressed the truth. My head didn’t want to allow me to get to that point of acceptance. Not yet. I almost dropped Eliza from my shock. I adjusted my grip around her waist as I quickened my pace, hoping to pass unseen. As we did, I turned back, silently praying that it wasn’t who I thought it was—that fatigue was just playing a cruel joke on me. 

Pastor Thomas’ eyes met mine. I couldn’t possibly tell you what going on in his brain. His expression changed, not to that of guilt, or embarrassment, or anything of the sorts. This moment felt like a page out of Animal Farm. I didn’t recognize him. His gaze felt like a was sort of a silent threat, a challenge of sorts. One that told me that he was aware of what I had seen and dared me to say something about it. I moved Eliza and I along until we reached the flat. I fumbled with the key until the door unlocked. Kicking it open, I helped Eliza inside.  

I helped her out of her shoes, taking her to her room. I wasn’t exactly sure how much she’d to drink, but I was certain it wasn’t enough to let her sleep on her back. I adjusted her position, letting her sleep comfortably on her side. 

In my own room, I changed out of my clothes and into my pyjamas. As I laid on my bed, sleep just wouldn’t catch up to me. My mind was begging for a conclusion—anything. It replayed what I had seen, searching and scanning for answers and loopholes. What I saw wouldn’t suffice. Was that what God was trying to tell me?  

God, I sounded crazy, getting warnings from God. Now I knew how Joan of Arc felt. Was this what I was warned about? That my pastor taught one thing and did the opposite. I was undeniably disappointed.  

If he couldn’t hold himself to the standards he had set, what did that say about what I stood for? 

My thoughts didn’t keep me up for too long. I wasn’t sure when I had fallen asleep, but I knew I had when my eyes fluttered open and bright light spilled into my room from the small available cracks on my shutters.  I blinked rapidly, allowing my eyes to get adjusted.  

In the kitchen, Eliza leaned against a counter, one hand on her temple and the other on a glass of water.   

“Remind me to never drink again.” She groaned.  

“That’d be in vain.” I spoke with a dry tone. 

Her head lifted, a small yet weak smile on her face. “Thanks for last night. Who knows where I would’ve ended up if you weren’t there.” 

“It was nothing.” I shrugged. “It’s what a friend does.” 

Eliza turned so her lower back hit the counter, she took a sip of her water. “How’re you holdin’ up?” 

“What?” I blinked. 

“Did last night help you clear your mind?” 

“No,” I shook my head. “If anything, it made things worse.” 

“How?” Eliza’s brows knit in confusion; her smile was replaced with a frown. “Was it Liam? You were talkin’ to him all night—did he say summat?” 

“No.” 

“Then what?” 

There was a hint of hesitation before I spoke.“When I was walking you back home, I saw something.” 

“Really?” 

I nodded. 

“Okay, well tell me.” 

“I saw Pastor Thomas coming out of a building—” 

“Is that it? ” She blinked. 

“I think it was a brothel.” 

Silence. 

“A brothel?” Eliza repeated, in surprise. “Are you sure?” 

“I know what I saw—” I said, my voice firm. “—and I didn’t see a bible or anything.  

“wow...” Eliza's mouth was still ajar from the semi bomb I dropped. “You plannin’ on going back to that church?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“I honestly wish I could help, really, I do.” She spoke, her fingers massaging her temple. “But this hangover is doin’ me head in.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” 

Eliza gave me a sympathetic smile, placing her hand on my shoulder and squeezing it. 

—  

Days of loitering about on the sofa occurred. Times where I should have been at church, where spent in the flat, doing nothing in particular. Luckily, Eliza kept me fed and kept away anyone from the congregation who was “too curious” about my absence from the church. The weigh of it felt like a heavy rock pressing down on me. 

It felt ridiculous, something so small, yet it held significance and I wasn’t sure why. Was my “belief” truly a belief if it had managed to be shaken by something like this? 

“You can’t keep sitting around like this.” Eliza said, one morning.  

I sat on the sofa, pulling my blanket higher over my shoulders. “Sure I can,” I argued. “I’m doing it right now.” 

“You can’t.” Eliza rolled her eyes, settling beside me.  

I didn’t say anything. 

“If you’ve got nowt to do...” Eliza started.  

I rose my brow, I knew where this was going. “No.” 

Eliza’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You didn’t even lemme ask.” 

“Didn’t have to.” 

Eliza rolled her eyes. “I was gonna ask you to take me to the pub. Again.” 

“No way, that was a one-time thing.” 

Eliza stuck out her lips in a small pout. 

“That’s not going work.” 

“It works with Alexander.” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not Alexander.” I turned towards her, giving her a look. “And didn’t you say you were going to stop drinking.” 

“People change.” She shrugged. 

“Right.” I deadpanned. 

“C’mon, please.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” 

Eliza grinned triumphantly. 

— 

Eliza and I found ourself in the same place we had been. It was like déjà vu, minus the blouse. I chose to stick with clothes that came from my own closet, much to Eliza’s annoyance. The pub was tamer than it had been the other time. There were actual visible empty chairs. Eliza greeted her mates near the bar. I sat further away, not really having much interest in them.  

The scraping sound of a chair being pulled back caught my attention. My gaze turned to the side, there he was again, Liam. An ever-present and cocky smirk accompanied him. “Back again?” 

“Yeah, I am. You got a problem with that?” 

Liam shook his head, the smirk remained as he leaned back. “Not at all, didn’t see you for a while—got worried I might of scared ya off.” 

“Great, now you’ve seen me.” I deadpanned. 

“I would, but it’s not as fun, y’know what I mean?” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“What’s got you in mood, then?” 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but these last few days haven’t exactly been a cakewalk.” 

“Lemme guess,” Liam leaned back. “You havin’ trouble deciding which bible verse to read before bed?” 

My eyes narrowed slightly. That didn’t bother Liam one bit, if anything, it made his grin wider.  

“My problem isn’t exactly that simple.” 

“I’m sure it isn’t.” He chuckled.  

My expression remained very much the same. I adjusted my position, placing my elbow on the table and my chin on my palm. 

“Y’know what’ll be bound to make you feel better?” 

“What?” 

“A cold pint.” 

“I don’t drink.” I reiterated. 

“C’mon, love, why sit and stress when you can drink and forget?” 

I just stared at him. From the short time I’ve gotten to know what he was about, I learned that he wasn’t what you’d classify as Harvard-level intelligence, but he wasn’t stupid. I wanted to get out of this funk—I really did. He seemed to know what he was talking about, and Eliza always did look happy when she drank.  

“...Fine.” 

Liam’s brows shot up, as if he didn’t quite believe what I’d just said. “Alright.” he nodded, standing up. He went towards the bar, telling something to the bartender. The bartender handed him two glasses. Liam sat back down at my table, sliding one of the drinks towards me.  

“Try it.” Liam encouraged, taking a sip of his own drink. 

I did so. The taste was...unique. I’ve had alcohol before, if you count the wine they offered at church. The liquid burned my throat, it tasted bitter. After I swallowed it, a strong taste remained. I shook my head a bit.  

“Atta girl,” he grinned. “You’ll get used to the taste.” 

“I’m not sure I want to.” 

“It’ll grow on ya.”  Liam encouraged with a chuckle.  

I took a few more sips of the liquid and true to Liam’s words, the bitter after taste was almost numb to me. 

“Feelin’ better?” 

“A bit.” I chuckled. “My head feels fuzzy.” 

I leaned back, unbuttoning some of the top buttons of my shirt. 

“Look on the bright side, you look fit.” 

I turned my head to look at him, a ghost of a smile playing at my lips before I could stop it. Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Is that what you tell all the girls you trick into buying a drink?” 

“Only if they’re fit.” Liam shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” 

I leaned in close; Miscalculated my move. My drink to spill right on my lap. I quickly sat the cup right side up. 

“Bloody hell.” Liam burst into a fit of laughter. 

I stood up quickly, causing some of the drink to spill on to the ground. I released an aggressive sigh.  

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.” I rolled my eyes. “I swear, I’m never drinking again.” 

“C’mon,” Liam stood up, grabbing my arm. “I’ll help ya.” 

He didn’t give me a chance to give him an answer. Eliza saw us as we passed, her brows knit, I had barely had time to register it. 

Liam led to the restroom, pulling me inside after him and closing the door behind him. He picked up a stack of paper towels, dabbing them over my clothes—uselessly. his efforts did less to help than he had likely hoped. I placed my hand over his, stopping him.  

“It’s alright, I got it.” 

“Lemme help.” he insisted. 

“I don’t think what you’re doing qualifies as help.” I giggled.  

“Counts as summat.” 

My shirt was tainted by the beverage. I was certain I looked absolutely ridiculous. Liam just stared at me. I wasn’t sure what expression he was conveying to me. 

“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if atmosphere between us was sacred.  

“Go on then, tell me what’s been doin’ ya ‘ead in.” His voice was soft. 

“Just stuff with my church.” I spoke vaguely, hoping he wouldn’t pry deeper. 

“What happened?”  

There was the hesitation again. I looked at his face for any hint of malice or insincerity, but I found none. With a sigh, I spoke. “My pastor preaches about abstinence before marriage, while he goes to brothels.” 

Liam’s eyebrows shot up, laughter escaping from his throat. 

“Shut up, it’s not funny.” I hit in the chest; Liam only laughed harder. 

“Nah, it’s fuckin’ hilarious.” He grinned, wiping the corners of his eyes. “A brothel—now I’d pay good money to see that.” 

My eyes narrowed.  

“I don’t see how that would bother ya.” 

“He’s a pastor, always goes on and on about how that kind of thing is bad then goes around and does? He’s a hypocrite.” I looked down at my hands. “I looked up to him, now I just feel stupid.” 

Liam’s laughing subsided, fading. His expression fell to something softer. “Hey, c’mon, don’t say that. The tosser had no right to order you lot like that, ‘specially if he was doin’ that shit. You’re not stupid, alright?” 

I looked up at him, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The warmth of his words spread all throughout my chest. “Thanks Liam.” 

Liam smiled, stepping closer. For a brief second, his eyes darted downwards to my lips, then back to my face. He just stared at me.  

Then, before I knew it, his hands cupped my cheeks, pulling me close and our lips met in a kiss. A startled sound escaped my lips. My hands found his shoulders, my conditioned state yelled at me to pull back—to push him away, but I couldn’t. Liam’s hands slid down, finding my waist. His tongue had made its way inside my mouth, wrestling with mine. 

He pulled away briefly, attempting to grasp as much oxygen as he could. I did the same, before I was pulled back, lips locking on to his.  

The buttons of my shirt were slowly coming undone until it was completely off. Left in my bra, the cold had goosebumps slowly making their way up my arms. It was strange standing like this in front of him, but I had a feeling, an almost animalistic desire—primal. It didn’t Liam long to get his shirt off and on the floor. At the moment, there wasn’t a care in the world about how dirty they were. Liam’s hands grasp my waist firmly, his fingers digging at them. It wasn't painful, there was just a feeling of pressure. 

His lips moved with mine, there was a strange sensation I felt as we moved together. I wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it, but it was...good. 

Liam slowly moved me back against the wall adjacent to the one that had the sink and mirror attached to it. The cold wall hit my back softly, lips still moulding against each other. Liam’s hand held my lower back, while the other grazed my thigh, slowly rising up and under my skirt. It moved gently, there was no haste nor rush in his touch, as if he wanted to savour every second. 

“You can... touch me, you know.” I told him. The brave tone in which I spoke with surprised myself. Perhaps the drink had an elixir-like effect on my brain chemistry. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” I confirmed, leaning back towards him for a hungry kiss. 

For once, I didn’t feel confined—trapped, that was how I felt and it felt fucking amazing.  

Liam’s hand flickered upwards, a soft whimper escaped my lips. I didn’t why it did, but it did. 

“Do that again.” I whispered. 

Liam complied; another sound was expelled from lips. The lace of my underwear was toyed with by Liam, brushing against my entrance with a frustrating slowness. 

Something between a gasp and a moan was the reaction that occurred when he slipped a finger inside. It stretched me in a way that made me shudder. The sensation felt odd—not in a bad way, just the unfamiliarity of it.  

I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening. Maybe it was the weird buzz in my head from the drink, or maybe my thoughts had been cleared and I had subconsciously realised that maybe those standards that I held myself to wasn’t how I felt anymore. 

Whatever the case might have been, it felt liberating. A feeling of liberty. 

Liam’s finger managed to get a hold of a spot that had my head tilting back and my vision blurred. Then he inserted another one.  

“Ahh—” I gasped, my hand holding onto his shoulders tightly as his fingers thrusted inwardly. His angles changed ever so slightly, eliciting a feeling of anticipation. 

I wanted—no, I needed more. 

My hips bucked almost instinctively towards his hand. Incoherent babbles were all that were coming out of my mouth. Liam kissed the corners of my mouth, his wet kisses slowly trailing downwards. My breath hitched when Liam’s lips met a particular spot slightly above my collarbone. 

I could feel a smirk forming against my skin. Cheeky bastard. 

One particular thrust of Liam’s fingers made me jump, sending an intense feeling throughout my entire body. It felt as if I was having a heart attack, but without danger. My heart was racing, palpitations sending heavy vibrations throughout my body. The rate of my breathing increased rapidly, rising and the decreasing as the foreign, yet satisfying, feeling went away. 

Liam’s fingers pulled away gently as the intensity slowly dissipated.  

“You good, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” I panted. 

“Good.” Liam’s hand remained on my back. 

Liam’s face came close to mine once more until our lips met once more. His hands rose to my upper back, fumbling with the hooks of my bra until it came loose. The light under garment fell with ease. My hands instinctually fell over my chest. I’d never been exposed to this degree if front of anyone, it felt new. 

“None of that.” He gently pulled my arm down. “You look beautiful.” 

My breath hitched. His lips grazed my collarbones, going lower and lower. My hands raked him dark brown hair.  

Liam reached down to undue his belt, letting his jeans fall to the floor. His length looked firm, pressing against his boxers. 

His eyes flickered onto mine, as if he were silently asking me for permission. I nodded. Liam pulled me close. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I hadn’t anticipated the stretch I felt when Liam slowly pushed inside me.  

I took a sharp breath, my hands squeezing his shoulders. It hurt—it did. Liam did his best to accommodate that, moving slowly.  

Liam groaned softly, muttering obscenities. “Fuck...”  The pace wasn’t rushed—it was slow, but steady, slowly allowing the discomfort to be transformed to pleasure.  

I couldn’t believe it, genuinely. I was having sex, and in a pub bathroom no less. It wasn’t at all how Pastor Thomas had painted it out to be. This didn’t feel dirty or wrong, not at all. I felt connected, our pleasured sounds over taking the bathroom. 

It was simply too much. I caught sight of Liam’s damp forehead, his hair clinging onto his forehead. His pink-tinted swollen and moist lips kissed mine with ferocity. It was hard to keep up when his hips kept colliding with mine faster and faster... 

I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t think at all. I wasn’t even kissing Liam at this point, instead I gasped and moaned into his mouth.  

Liam’s pace quickened. “Fuckin’ hell... Yeah—fuck, so good...” Liam moaned. With a couple more sloppy thrusts, Liam let out throaty groan, his head falling on my shoulder. An intense feeling that I could only describe as pure euphoria took over. It felt like death. A heavenly way to die. My head tipped back once more; I was releasing sounds I didn’t even know I could make. I felt a warm, liquid-like substance filling me up. As soon as Liam soften inside me, he pulled out.  

As soon as he did, the liquid dripped down my thighs.  

I attempted to catch my breath, and he seemed to be doing the same. “You, okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah. You?” 

Liam nodded.  

There was a small moment of silence. It wasn’t awkward or anything, quite the opposite. 

“Reckon we’re proper filthy, eh?” Liam teased. 

I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we are.” 

Liam helped with me get sorted with my clothes before getting to his. His hands shrugged mine off as he buttoned up my shirt. When he finished, his hands found my cheeks again. He didn’t kiss me this time, just looked at me, as if I was someone important. Someone worth looking at like that. 

My mind was racing, not with stress, just confusion. I wasn’t what this meant. Did this mean that my faith was tarnished?  

I enjoyed it, I did.  

What did it mean? 

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/773535634626379776/is-het-people-placing-moral-weight-on-attraction?source=share

This makes a very depthful problem seem easy to resolve. I'm an autistic person, and I've got a lot less compared to others, filter and all, and the thing about "finding someone who you don't need to hide anything from" is that this feels impossible because people are deeply ashamed of themselves—this is why any community of "freaks" will often feel safer, because they aren't so repressed, thus they hide less and express more, and later in my life, as I began to understand that the cost of hiding myself away was far too much, I stopped. I burnt out, and this has been... detrimental.

I think it doesn't matter if you're het, homo, neurodivergent or typical. Labels don't matter. Nothing does. We're not seperated by much in essence, even if we're different in many other ways. It's just that the idea of "good personhood" or "moral uprightness" is so often associated with being small, and a lot of weirdos will, eventually, understand the harm of that and stop, or otherwise be forced to if it takes them significant energy they no longer have (hello!), but it's hard.

It's difficult! It's not easy! Especially when your identity feels like, or in some cases is, a crime. It's because shame is enforced and engrained. It is hard to be yourself when your "self" is constantly denied. People are constantly shouting, or crying inside, wanting things, but when facing denial or being refused consistently, you'll learn how to be helpless, or more extremely, have your power stripped from you—because we don't want to be alone. We don't feel complete alone, but we feel alone around others, so we try to make up for it assuming our lack, but we aren't lacking, and I think it's important to focus on yourself, fulfill yourself. It's just that this is also so often used as a weapon.

When you're confident, or trying to be, people will try to trip you up or feel intimidated and try to lessen your sense of worth, that if they don't have it, no one can.

I mean, I know the whole thing about self-love is sort of cliche, but I really think that, by some measure, it's true. You have to love yourself to love others, in a sense, and not that you don't deserve it anyway, but that... loving is knowing, understanding, seeing clearly, it is respect and kindness and acceptance, even at your worst, and when you fail to do that for yourself—though it's fine to slip—when you can't even try, or you don't want to, I feel like... how can you make effort for someone else that you won't do for yourself? If you can't feed yourself, then you'll struggle to feed someone else.

You need to know things, and most people are too scared to even want, to look inward, to be curious, anything, all because of potential risk—which is going to happen in a real relationship. These things aren't avoidable just because they're ugly to you. They're hard to look at, yes, but no less real. And no real relationship can blossom without understanding, or in ignorance.

I don't think love is a walk in the park, but it should always stay, even through disagreement, and people can't even... have internal discord without coming to hate themselves for their contrasts and faults. But you have to. To forgive yourself, too.

It's out of your hands, in a way, what is done is done, it is what it is, and at one point I would have hated that, because I didn't want it to be, but if you want to control yourself, that eventually spills out, and if you're so focused on image, you... it feels impossible to have a deep connection when you can only look at the surface. There's no connection, and any requests for that are met with denial. So I truly think you have to work from within before you can work from without, as someone who has been. And this isolates you. It makes you strange, or unveils your strangeness, and people don't like that.

They don't like it because they don't understand, and refuse to try to get familiar out of fear for "what it means", because they can't control it, but it makes no difference because what's true still is, even if you spend your whole life looking away from it.

Literally anyone, anywhere, no matter who they are, that could apply to them. It's not a heterosexual issue. It's a human issue. People don't listen to people. People don't hear people out. And I get that, sometimes. But I don't know. People who are unsupported are more likely to lose that and needlessly go on chasing senseless things trying to make up for "missing pieces", but you're— you know, we're... whole people on our own, and we do deserve to have things.

It's just that queer people might be more likely to understand how much of a distraction that is by nature of being queer. They maybe can't afford to, but het people, by contrast, neurotypical people, anyone more privileged for any reason, may be less likely to notice these things because they grow up in or around certain structures that obscure them! When you exist inside of a system, it's harder to see the structure of it, and if you believe that something keeps you safe, then you'll hesitate to want to tear it down, but anything that promises to keep you safe is a lie—it's already hurting you.

We really just need to be more selfish and focus on our own satisfaction, what pleases us beyond simple engagement, because it isn't... any of this. I really think we already have those qualities, but if we could just see them elsewhere, then maybe...? I feel like I've been lucky with media and stuff, actually, but... well, even that's not easy. It's all isolating, and we all need to get more comfortable with being alone if it means we just get to be. You need to be yourself before you can love someone else. If we're too afraid of that, it's... well. Dreadful.

From experience.

It's just fear, though. And you shouldn't lose it entirely, but you can push past it. Unfortunately, uh, a lot of people don't try. You can lead a horse to water and all, but you can't make it drink, y'know? That's been what het relationships are like. You can't fix anyone, change them. They need to be able to help themselves. You are your own savior.

This is long. Apologies. I have many feelings from living a life. I don't know. I did also try, myself, to smooth things over, but it's just not worth it, and I think all the ideas around this stuff make that worse, because they say it is, though, and if you just try— and sometimes the harm is more in the trying, not the failing. Because failure isn't necessarily personal or signifying any "wrongness" in you. It just is. The blame, everything, it makes it all so much harder! Because blame and responsibility go hand in hand, when things fail, it implies that you have made some grand mistake, but that happens, too. You mess up, you fail, you learn, and eventually, you win. It all happens and it can't necessarily be avoided, but it's fine if we as people can work on it together!

--

[softdrabbles]

"you have no idea just how excited that makes me." ashton beamed at her, "do you know how much sneaking around i got up to back then? i know we would have had fun." a laugh escaped them, "i might not be able to sneak you out of your folks place but i think we can find many other situations that would require that." julia was everything, ashton still had no idea how they'd managed to charm her, the woman in front of them so proud to be theirs. something that made them feel like the wealthiest person on the planet. "i could not give less of a fuck about who sees us together." and that included her father or anyone else who was out to tear them apart. over their dead body would be the only way and even then they knew julia would refuse. "i can tell," they grinned, nipping at her lips, "your ass in this dress, i don't want to stop touching."

as julia smoothed their collar, ashton looked at them with nothing but adoration, their eyes so soft on her features. the smile on their face grew bright as they heard her refer to them as her husband and they leaned in, kissing her so hard, showing her just how it made them feel that she respected their wishes to use the more masculine term. knowing they had to tone it down for those in the store, once julia had had finished kissing their lips, ash knew they had to at least try to control themself.

"we better not be late for it then. i won't stand for tardiness." they joked, imitating her father with their last sentence, laughing as they placed a kiss into her head. ashton was glad that julia quickly took their hand and dragged them out of the store, not wanting to know what kind of indent the rings had put into their bank account. if only julia knew how hearing her call them handsome made them feel, there truly were no words to describe the pride they felt, the confidence it gave them. before they even had a chance to try and tell her they felt themself pushed up against the car. their dimpled grin was enormous as they kissed her back hungrily. they would be even lucky to make it home at this point without pulling over multiple times. "you better get in the car before i lose all my self control." wrapping an arm around her, they easily lifted her as they opened the door, putting her down to assist her up into their jeep, "mrs mathews — " they greeted with a playful smile. they jumped in the driver's seat and glanced at her, "i will never, ever get tired of calling you that."

"well now you've got the rest of our lives to corrupt me, baby. that's a promise." julia laughed in response. "i think we would've had so much fun. but who's to say that we can't relive the experience now as adults?" the thought made her smile. "we'll just way be more open without a damn in the world who sees." come hell or high water, julia knew this was going to be it for her. disapproving parents or not. pettily, julia thought about how she might even show up at her father's completely unannounced waving the ring around in his face. it would be her grand fuck you, you don't control me anymore gesture. she smirked, feeling ashton's grip on her ass tighten. "i'm looking forward to it."

she smoothed down the collar of their shirt at ashton's words. "my perfect, wonder life partner and husband." the words made her heart skip a beat, because she would've never anticipated she'd even be able to utter them. but she was so, so grateful she'd have an entire lifetime to do so now. god, she really couldn't wait to get home now. the anticipation really was beginning to kill her. she leaned up and pressed another kiss to their lips. "yours forever," julia whispered happily, a cheeky grin crossing her features.

ashton was indeed right. crazy had never felt this right. she had always been so calculated and careful with her life decisions, but that was until ashton had come and swept her off her feet. after that, julia made decisions with her heart rather than simply her head and it paid off so, so well. "mm, i also have important business to attend to as well." in saying that, once the rings were paid and safely secured julia tugged on ashton's hand and led them out the door towards the car. "and you are so fucking handsome, it's absolutely driving me insane." she pressed ashton against the side of the car, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss them for what had to be the millionth time but she couldn't help it.