#there are a lot of things to be said about

[soleilchanson]

Older boyfriend Price who is absolutely DISTRAUGHT over the fact that you don’t care about marriage because you think he’s over it.

Note: this one has no smut but it has mentions of sex and sexual relations so interact at your own discretion. Reader is in mid twenties.

Masterlist

“What the fuck do you mean by you don’t want to?” If Price had been any louder, anyone outside his car would’ve been able to hear him.

It had been a few months into your relationship with Price after almost a year of being friends with benefits. You weren’t sure how your arrangement changed over time but you were glad to be with him as he valued you a lot.

“I mean, think about it. You’re like, what? 40-“

“I’m 37, love”

“Right, yeah, I just think that it doesn’t really matter as long as we’re having fun together. Honestly, I thought you’d agree.” You said before taking a bite out of your burger.

Price could only watch you in shock. Sure, your relationship started on the basis of sexual benefits but when he did think of the future all he thought of was you. Even if you were a generation younger than him, he had never felt such synergy with anyone before. It was a connection of a lifetime - emotional and sexual.

“So you don’t give a shit about marriage because you think I don’t care about it.”

“Kind of. If I’m gonna get married I need my partner to be on board too, don’t you think?” He sighed at your reply. You looked up at him, confused and cheeks full with your dinner as you grabbed the plastic cup of coke.

His heart swelled at the sight. It was like looking at an innocent chipmunk. To think that the same face looked fucked out an hour ago awed him but he couldn’t let himself get distracted by your unintentional seduction.

He grabbed your drink and put it back in the cupholder. You were about to whine but he grabbed your face and pulled you close, noses almost touching.

“You-“ peck “-are the most wonderful thing to happen to me and I’ll be damned if I don’t tie you down with me in the future.”

Your face heated up. You had swallowed your food not too long ago but your mouth felt like it had gone dry.

With your face in his hands he continued. “I’ll have a rock on your pretty little finger before you know it.” He left a longer peck on your lips this time and pulled away.

What you didn’t know was that he already had a ring for you. It was stored away in a hidden drawer in his desk, waiting to be worn by you.

In fact, he had brought it just a month into your relationship. He wasn’t religious but he knew that a person like you was the blessing of a lifetime.

[headspace-hotel]

Okay but like whenever europe and USA are compared in terms of ruins and artifacts it makes me think "oh but what about Native American artifacts and ruins" and it reminded me of another post I meant to make ages ago but forgot

A while back I went thru the library looking at all the books I could find on the history of Kentucky.

My textbooks and most "reliable" sources when I was a kid said that Kentucky was never actually home to Native Americans, it was just a "hunting ground." This is total bullshit, the living Shawnee whose ancestors lived here know it was bullshit, but how did we get there

A lot of the more recent books I found (from like the 1990's) repeated the "it was only just hunting grounds" thing

But heres the weird thing

When you go back further

The narrative is completely different

so here's the first page of a book published 1872, it's "History of Lexington Kentucky: Its Early Annals and Recent Progress" by George W. Ranck

Let the shock of this first paragraph settle in. Like, damn, this is a whole different picture being painted

now, this Rafinesque fellow he refers to, has been widely referred to as the originator of many claims about Kentucky, and an exaggerator and liar, outright dismissed and scorned by many historians.

Rafinesque is considered to be the source of many claims found in this chapter, and the pompous, flowery language used to state them makes them seem a bit unbelievable. But the claims themselves are not highly unrealistic. These are several of the claims found on pages 2-12 of the book

An artificially built stone well was found by settlers

Earliest settlers plowed up pottery fragments

Settlers dug into an old abandoned lead mine

"Stone sepulchers" were found containing human bones

A large earthen mound 6 feet high was found with pottery and burned wood

A stone mound was found containing human bones

An extensive cave used as a cemetery was found under Lexington, containing embalmed bodies

Flint arrowheads were found

Polished and worked fragments of iron ore were found

Sandstone and limestone tools perforated with holes were found

Rough ingots of copper were found

Stone walls were built defended by entrenchments

It is very important to note that this chapter is insistent that the inhabitants that built these ruins and left these artifacts were NOT Native Americans. Why? Because Native Americans didn't build stuff so advanced! Very circular reasoning.

It was a very common myth that there was some kind of "pre-native-american" race of people that existed in Kentucky. Sometimes this was a way of justifying colonization by saying that well, the Native Americans were just taking over land that wasn't theirs too, so it's okay for us to do it.

It seems to me that when it became clear that Native Americans were the first and only pre-European inhabitants, the stuff about an ancient city under Lexington and all that became dismissed as lies. But are they lies?

I tried to find out, and we know for certain that central Kentucky had many, many burial mounds (some of which I had seen the site of without knowing what I was seeing) and quite a few stone ruins. The builders of the stone ruins are referred to as the "Fort Ancient" people because the earliest settlers incorrectly assumed the stone structures they saw were forts for some defensive or military purpose.

The tools and artifacts being referenced are all known to exist, except I think there aren't any confirmed extant examples of pottery.

The most widely criticized claim in the chapter is the underground cave used as a tomb, but I don't see why—central Kentucky is a limestone karst region and EVERYWHERE has a cave under it. The embalming or mummifying of bodies could have been a flourish or rumor, but the essence of the claim is totally reasonable. Then again, it might not have been, since the area had access to sources of salt. The supposed "lead mine" probably wasn't that specifically, but it's known that Native Americans went inside, explored and used caves.

It was really interesting to me how so many later sources dismissed these claims despite most of them being plausible or just true, and how many of those sources repeated the idea of Native Americans using the land for hunting but not "inhabiting" it. It is two different ways of denying Native Americans were here.

[ot3]

top 10 pokemon that are girls

'gender'.... much like 'animals' this is a concept from our world that has made itself present in the pokemon franchise. all pokemon began having genders (except for the ones that don't) in the second generation of games, in order to facilitate the pokemon breeding mechanic which has become a staple of the main series

you may think this means the issue of which pokemon are girls and which ones aren't is already settled. but do we really trust game freak to be the deciding voices on this one? i certainly don't. so here's a nonexhaustive look at some pokemon that are doing their best to be role models for young women everywhere who have been picking up and enjoying these games for decades.

#10 - NIDORAN♀

Not only is Nidoran♀ canonically a girl, she is the first pokemon to be canonically a girl as the gender distinction between Nidoran types predates the introduction of gen 2's breeding system that gendered all pokemon. she broke the glass ceiling, and for this we salute her.

#9 - KANGASKHAN

Both culturally and in media single mothers are subject to a lot of scrutiny and scorn, but kangaskhan breaks the mold. powerful, responsible, yet loving and joy-filled. the look on her baby's face tells us all we need to know; she holds on tight to the pouch, clinging to the safety she knows her mother can give her, but gazes awestruck and wide-eyed at the world around her, knowing its wonders will be there waiting for her as soon as she feels ready for it.

#8 - CELESTEELA

Technically, celesteela's gender is 'unknown', but it's obvious that celesteela represents what life can look like for a woman who truly has it all. As one of the largest and heaviest pokemon ever discovered, she's not afraid to take up space. she doesn't feel the need to soften herself to be more accepted by the world around her, but she's also comfortable enough with her feminine side to let it shine through where and when she wants. nobody tells her how to live her life but her and also she has big lazers

#7 - MISMAGIUS

Well she's not called MISTER magius now, is she?

#6 - LYCANROC

Perfect embodiment of the wolfgirl you knew (or, perhaps were?) in middleschool. There are many doglike/canine pokemon in the dex, but something about lycanroc's exaggerated unkempt mane and lanky, awkward posture evokes the physicality of a teenager who exists as a beast beyond the boundaries of her own body.

#5 - CHIKORITA

This saultry little binch...

#4 - RAYQUAZA

It's an uncomfortable truth in life that many women find themselves in the position of needing to play the mediator in order to stop the people around them from acting in destructive or harmful ways. But just because mediating conflict can be a difficult and unfair position to be put into, that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Rayquaza just goes to show us all everywhere how a real woman can still thrive under these circumstances, doing her best to build a more peaceful world while not letting that push her into the shadows or make her take a back seat in her own life. she is a community leader and an innovator.

#3 - SALAZZLE

She's the archetypal femme fatale. A dominatrix. A baddie. Does she make me uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely. But I'm not a furry so I'm not really the target audience of what's happening here.

#2 - SLAKING

I know so many butches who look exactly like her. you love to see it.

#1 - MEWTWO

as one feminist philosopher has said: "I see now that the circumstances of one's birth is irrelevant, it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

I think any woman living in a patriarchal society can sympathize with mewtwo's story. enraged at being treated like the property of the people who created her rather than her own fully realized person, she goes on a rampage where it quickly becomes obvious that she is even more powerful than that what she was originally created in the image of. Although this takes her down a dark path, she eventually learns to self-actualize by working on herself rather than pointlessly lashing out at people who had nothing to do with hurting her. it's empowering stuff. doubly empowering because she killed all those clowns who DID hurt her

now, of course, there are plenty more pokemon that are girls than just what i've listed here today. but i hope youve learned a little something from this.

[luvnami]

you text ushijima to pick you up from a halloween party at 12.17am, the tray of soju shots you had earlier hitting you all at once. he shows up at 12.31am with a coverup hoodie, slides for your aching feet, and a bottle of cold water.

"thank you for taking care of her," he says to the friend who hands you over.

your limbs are jelly as his strong arm wraps around your face. never mind the foundation that rubs off on his dark shirt, he'll wash it off later.

"wakatoshi!" you slur. "you're here!"

you giggle and nuzzle into his shoulder. the foundation spot grows into an oddly shaped patch, reminiscent of your cheek and nose. he nods as if that is the most obvious fact in the whole world.

"yes. i'm here. let's go home."

your friends gawk through the window as ushijima helps you back into his car.

"did you have fun?" he reaches past you to buckle the seatbelt into place.

you hum. "i did, i did. i missed you! we took lots of photos, i'll show them to you when we get home. oh, and remember that girl i told you about? she said she loved my costume! that was so sweet!"

you ramble on and on about every little thing that happened at the party. ushijima listens carefully, even when you get into the details of how someone was making out sloppy-style with their ex-partner, while a 50 cent song played in the background.

ushijima doesn't know who 50 cent is. he stayed up past his bedtime, watching a documentary about birds while waiting for your text to come pick you up. but that's alright; because why would that ever matter when he loves you so much?

"wakatoshi, can i get a burger on the way home?"

he slides into the driver seat and adjusts your head, slotting a neck pillow around your shoulders so that you don't bump into the car window.

"you're going to feel gross when you wake up if you eat a burger now."

"mm... but i really want one! please?"

you gaze up at him, pupils dilated. he pauses to make sure none of your hair is stuck between your neck and the pillow.

"okay. we can get a burger. close your eyes and rest, i'll wake you when we're home."

"hehe, thank you! i love you, toshi."

he smiles.

"i love you too."

[landiary]

privacy ☆ lee heeseung

pairing stepbro!hee x afab!reader

genre smut.

warning dry humping, masturbating, choking, face fucking (m&f), cowgirl. spanking, overstimulation, squirt, creampie. not proofread.

a/n based in a dream i had, i LITERALLY been writing this during a whole month and finally it’s done hope u like itttt

words 3,5k

in your house, privacy was not something that your parents considered important, so you always fight demanding your privacy, where you would find shouts from your mother who said "do you have something to hide from us?" or from your father, using the same words as always "dont even think about bringing a guy home."

so you always ended up in your room with the only shoulder you could cry on, heeseung’s, your stepbrother. there were no problems with him, he was the most understanding and the one who always fought with you in some arguments, confronting your parents. although most of the time he was not at home, as he is an adult he work for living and can go a whole week without showing up.

his room? it was a complete mystery. since you couldn't maintain privacy with your parents, you kept it between the two of you. the only thing you knew was that he had a gaming pc, a shelf with some devilish plushies, and more things than any room would have.

it was a midnight friday, you used to call your friends to gossip, but in this case they wanted to play video games. you grabbed your laptop and turned it on, but it didn't take long for it to start working wrong. "this shit doesn't work!" you silently shouted out of respect for your parents who were already sleeping.

"please, y/n i told you to use heeseung's." your friend said via discord call. "im considering it, but if he found out he'd kill me." you laughed despite wanting to cry at the slowness of your laptop. your other friend, decided to speak, "will never find out. hes a man, thinks with his dick, not his head." was what encouraged you to hang out the discord call and go ahead.

this week was one of those where hee was gone for days, and you were ovulating specially to make bad decisions. barefoot, in front of the door of his room with a sign that said in capital letters "DO NOT ENTER", you silently entered. a scent of man's cologne was your first impression upon entering, however when you turned on the light, it left a lot to be desired. it was small, but considering that he was almost gone, it was just the right and necessary size. a small closet, a large bed, as was said before, his computer and the shelves of weird plushies.

"did it." you said to both girls. you felt weird. so comfortable in a gaming chair, clearly hearing every sound with those headphones, with such a large screen in front, dim led lights in the background.

you felt guilty, but you couldn't help but do it, so it happened about three more times.

the first day, it was to play with your friends. second day, you did the same thing, however you were so tired that you didn't make it to your room, so you ended up sleeping in heeseung's bed.

the third day was sunday. your friends were responsible women, so they weren't going to play video games on a sunday night, but you decided to play the sims 4 all night. you lost track of time, but you got bored quickly and deleted your game so as not to leave a trace that you were there.

the headache was present the moment you left the computer, and under the dim lights you began to explore heeseung's room as if it were an escape room. at this point, you didn't give a shit about privacy.

his closet had the most delicious smell in the world: man. all his closet were messy and the drawers even more so. the desk was something you had been looking at for a while from sitting in front of the pc, but you never realized the mess of pens and meaningless sketches that were lying around. you wanted to give him a helping hand and clean him up but the idea was that he would never realize you were there.

finally, the plushies shelf. how is it that a man can collect this shit? you may ask. he was a special guy, because his plushies were disgustingly horrible that they were even scary. you grabbed one, and you were surprised at how soft the fur was. "now i understand why he likes them." you said to yourself.

you don't know if it was that you felt high by his cologne, but a not very holy idea came to your mind after touching the plushie. still with that weird ass bear in your hands, you walked to his bed, threw yourself face down and began to look at it. it was a bear with sharp teeth and red eyes. you already knew what you had to do.

you leaned the stuffed animal's face against the bed, not intending to see it, and knelt on it. you gasped from the pressure, but you quickly got used to it. you had nowhere to hold onto, so you went to the edge of the bed and grabbed onto the bed frame platform.

the swaying of your hips against the soft texture of that stuffed bear made you stop panting and start moaning moderately. for more excitement, you lifted your shirt leaving your bare breasts to crash against the cold atmosphere of that room. one hand holding your trembling body and the other massaging one of your tits, which had a sensitive nipple.

your legs started to get tired and your body started to ask for more. bored of continuing to rub yourself with the plushie, you pushed it aside and lay down while putting your hands inside your panties. you were clearly soaking wet. "so fuckin sorry, hee." followed by a moan, ready not to move until you cum undone on his bed.

since heeseung had returned home, you didn't go back to his room. that day you preferred not to remember. you almost took the risk of him finding you, because it was the same day he came home, but you woke up to the sounds of cats fighting on the ceiling and you were able to get back to your room sooner.

he never said anything to you, he didn't complain about anything, but it was weird for you to see how he was inside your room without even knocking on the door. "come with me” he said straight and firm. "hee, did something happen?"

"don't make me repeat myself." as he came out of your room, you ran after him.

in just seconds you regretted everything you did because knowing how he is, for some reason you thought he could have noticed. and yes, you take responsibility because you knew he was very angry.

when you reach the door of his room, he opens it leaving you the pass free, two steps were enough to make him also inside and close the door very tightly behind him.

"why don't you act surprised?" he asks, sitting in front of the pc without even looking at you. "why should I be?" you answer with another question. nerves get on you, and you had flashbacks of THAT night because of how your legs were shaking right now. you couldn't do anything because of the shame and guilt.

heeseung leaned back on the gaming chair, which by the way, is reclining. "first, i realized that some things weren't in place. i thought it was simply cuz i get home high as fuck, but i decided to trust my instinct." he paused before continuing. "do you like dim lights? cuz i think you weren't smart enough to notice a very important detail with the lights off." when you looked up your eyes were terrified to see a red light flickering from a small camera.

"heeseung, i-" he interrupted you. "i watched everything, y/n." you didn't want to maintain eye contact but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, you knew perfectly well that on his screen was that fucking image of sunday night. he got up from his chair and slowly approached you. "can't believe my stepsister turned out into a slutty whore."

with a pre-assembled cigarette, he took a puff and blew the smoke in your face. "instead of doing it in your room, you needed to do it in someone else's bed?" purposely set the ironic tone in the question. he put the cigarette in his mouth and he threw you on your back to the bed, without any kind of softness. "you know what's the best thing about all of this?" your legs separated by heeseung’s knee, which wasn't that far from brushing against your crotch. "that fucking bear still has your scent." imagining him smelling the bear made you feel like a patch of moisture was making on your panties. "think i'll have to teach you manners, don't i?"

your parents weren't at home, it was just you and him, so the silence became noisy when your thoughts prevented you from answering him. heeseung’s hands gently lifted your chin, worthlessly forcing you to look him in the eye. "i know how you feel, i wouldn't be able to look you in the eye either if i had done what you did," his thumb moved from your chin to your jugular. "but i didn't cuz i do respect your privacy."

"stop talking about privacy." your demanding tone surprised him a bit, which made him laugh wryly. "god, y/n... you do it on purpose, don't you?" considering that his hand was on your neck, he pressed down. "you're a big girl... big girls take responsibility for what they do, right?" your throat wouldn't let you speak so you just nodded your head.

the image of what came next did not displease you at all. you took responsibility for your mistakes even though you enjoyed it more than in your own bed. he was furious, all he saw was red, you could tell by the way he spoke, the way he was grabbing you, and how his lips moved desperately over yours. following the kiss didn't help to diminish his strength over you, but it did help a bulge in his pants to grow.

his knee subconsciously touched your crotch. heeseung noticing this, he lowered his knee from the bed and stopped kissing you, but both were still connected by your saliva. "can't let you have the same pleasure again, princess, you were very disrespectful." he kept his hand on your neck at all time, but then decided to wipe away the saliva dripping from your mouth with his thumb. "how about you focus on me?"

roles had changed. he was sitting on the bed in his unzipped jeans, while you kept your sanity to endure the knee pain. heeseung never let you go. after a "can you do that for me, pretty?" and accessing, the two of you continued to connect to each other through touch.

his hand grabbed yours to make you touch his marked bulge. was it necessary? no, you knew how to pull and suck it very well. but this isn't about what you know or don't know, it's about your mistake and making him feel good. no matter how much your hand was guided, the sensation of its length made your mouth water. he was big as fuck, you knew it very well.

heeseung was panting from movements he made himself, until he finally let you do it by yourself. besides the fact that it was thick, you could feel how hard it was under the thin fabric, so it didn't take long for you to release it. it bounced and slammed into hee's abdomen, making him shudder. his pink tip had precum, which you decided to make disappear with your tongue. the tip fits, the rest didn't.

the only help he gave you was to grab your hair so it wouldn't bother you while you were doing yhe blowjob.

you kept making circles on his tip, but since it also needed more attention at the base, you used your hand. "just like that." you smiled a little when you heard that, seeing it in a way you never imagined seeing. all horny and needy, panting for a little touch.

you looked up to see him and you took a sublime scene. eyes shut, lips swollen from blocking moans, jaw clenched, heavy panting. the fact that you both must surely have been recorded by the cameras installed, turned you on even more. the lower part of your hips were humping the floor with need, need which heeseung felt. his eyes didn't open completely, yet his eyes penetrated your aura.

it did not help at all to maintain his position. his dick squirmed in your mouth and without warning painted your mouthwalls white, forcing you to swallow. "fuck..." he groaned before collapsing on his bed. you tried to do something to provoke him again, the first thing that came to your mind was to climb on his lap, but in one quick movement he got you on all fours.

your shorts weren't a hindrance for him, because the thin fabric was easy to handle. "i can tell you don't need any prep, don't you?" you seemed to be very wet from what he saw through your panties, but after knowing the size of his member you thought that it was impossible to get in there. "i have no choice but to fuck the shit out of you if you stay that quiet."

"no..." you said quickly, desperately. "no, hee, please." you weren't sure if you were going to convince him just by begging him. "i'll be a good girl from now on, but please..." an unconscious moan came out of your mouth, and the fabric was starting to bother you. "eat me out."

"and do you think you deserve it?" you could feel his powerful gaze against your ass. "no, i don't deserve it at all, but if my mouth couldn't handle that massive cock, i doubt my cunt will." heeseung's index finger went to your waistband and pulled it down. within seconds he took your place, kneeling on the floor to appreciate your drooling pussy.

"taste me." you dared to say. "keep your mouth shut." he said with the same tongue with which he began to gave you a head. unfortunately, you couldn't listen to him and keep quiet. at least not when he was doing his job so well.

the wet sound of you being devoured by the mouth of that hungry man made you even more horny. your moans threatened to come out and you scratched the sheets. you wondered if he did it with such eagerness because he had really wanted to do it for a long time or just because he felt like it. you didn't know, you didn't care, all you wanted to do was untie the knot he had created in your abdomen and release it all in his mouth.

"heeseung..." he had asked you to be quiet a while ago, but the way you said his name had his cock twitching. he kept the same speed, he was being so gentle that it was starting to get boring. you tried to rub your hips on him but it was impossible, his hands caught you to keep you still the moment you tried to give yourself more pleasure than he was giving you. without saying a word, he told you everything.

"can you go faster?" you asked in a low tone. Your face turned red as Heeseung stopped licking you and stared at you. "you see?..." you were quiet making eye contact with him. "it's not that hard to say what you want, pervert." as quickly as he could finish his sentence, he kept eating you like a fucking god, this time being much rougher and faster than last time.

it was already impossible to keep your arms steady with your body trembling from your growing orgasm. your moans hit the mattress drowning them, and the warmth he gave you began to create sweat drops falling down your forehead. "hee... fu-" you were confused. his tongue stopped being in it’s place at the moment you needed it most, you were about to cum. "what the-" heeseung lay next to you on the bed, his cock was again hard and exposed, he had nothing on his bottom part. "you wanna cum? show me how it's done."

in order not to look desperate, as much as you needed it, you decided to approach slowly. you lay on it, not lying down completely, and with your bare hands you lined up its cock in your pussy, brushing the tip. you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which had a quick response from heeseung. "don't tease stepsis." "you were literally teasing me all afternoon, i can do it too, can't i?" heeseung let out a nasal laugh wanting to cover up moans. "know your place princess. now, bounce on me."

you moved its tip a little more and then stuck it in your driveway. if his fat dickhead made you feel that tight, you didn't want to imagine what was going to happen to the rest of his cock. you threw your head back and filled yourself with courage to put the rest in. your throat built a sublime moan for the man's ears.

you had to deal with your own weight for a while, jumping on him slowly so you wouldn't get tired too quickly. you opened your asschecks so you could had more access. if heeseung hadn't eaten you out, you're sure you wouldn't be able to move that easily.

heeseung didn't take his eyes off your clothed breasts. he had both hands free until he finally decided to touch you. his right hand went to hold one of your hips, the other went to lift your baby tee, underneath that you didn't have a bra, so it was easy for your stepbrother to let your breasts free.

"if i had known you were going to be so good to me, i would have fucked you before." his two hands on your hips were a help to make a more fluid moves, also his words made you so wetter. you lied down "need you so much." you murmured over his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

the pace was frenetic, both skins colliding and moans mingling in the air. a spanking echoed throughout the room, your sensitive skin soon turned red drawing heeseung's big hand.

he felt like you were stroking him, your pussy clenched by a lot of stimulation. you sat on him again, this time increasing speed and rubbing your clitoris. "you're getting tight..." he said. you kept bouncing over him even though you were already trembling over him. he could tell you were about to cum.

"can i cum?" stared you in the eye. "please, please, can i cum? i need to." he felt your legs squeeze his hips. the hand with which you rubbed your was replaced with his, that’s was his answer. those fingers were nimble and fast, you gushed around him, dripping all over his abdomen and a little from his bed.

you lay on heeseung, resting your head on his shoulder, but the two of you were still connected. heeseung continued on his own when he saw that you were already done, following the same rhythm, but causing his tip to hit your g-spot.

"are you on the pill?" you nodded impatiently. heeseung used his strength to keep your hips still, his pelvis was constantly crashing very hard and fast against your skin, pounding into you. and you who were already sensitive because of your squirt, couldn't stop complaining with incoherent sounds coming out of your weak mouth. "hee... 's too.. much!" you cried out.

finally, he split his seed inside you, and his cock came out of you.

both of you collapsed and remained silent for a few minutes. it took you a while to realize the situation you were in. hugging your stepbrother on his bed, after the best fuck of your life.

you opened your eyes for a moment to see him, he was breathing heavily with his eyes shut. to interrupt the silence and discomfort, you decided to speak. "what am i supposed to do now?" you whispered, but it was quite audible. "don't come back in here if you don't want this to happen again." he said in a tired, raw voice. he sounded fine as fuck.

"and what if i want to repeat this moment?" you get away a little from him to have a better view of his face. he barely opened his eyes and let out a chuckle.

"take note.." he started. "next time it will be in your room."

[the-flaneur]

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[barcaatthemoon]

perfect || alexia putellas x reader ||

Alexia tries to pull you out of your head when your insecurities become too much.

18+

You had always grown up assuming that you would have found your true love by fairly young. Growing up, everybody that you had known seemed to find their soulmate by the time that they were in their twenties. You had tried so hard for so long, but nothing ever really happened. Until Alexia, you had just assumed that something had to be wrong with you.

Alexia loving you didn't magically cure all of your insecurities. Some of them had gotten quieter, but others became much louder. Sometimes, they were screaming so loud inside of your head that you couldn't function. Alexia was never really sure what you needed whenever you shut down like that, but she still always tried her hardest to pull you out of your stumps.

"Amor, are you awake?" Alexia crept into the bedroom as quietly as she could. The woman had a very heavy tread, but she had been getting a bit more mindful of how she moved around the apartment whenever you were resting. The door opened up fully as Alexia stepped inside to see you laying in bed, wide awake.

"Alexia, you're going to be late for your lunch with Alba," you told her. You thought Alexia had left for it hours ago. She had definitely left to go pick up some things from the market for her mother, who needed a few things for the dinner she was making that night. Alexia was going to go over there, and you knew that she wanted you to come with her, but you had been practically glued to the bed for the past three days.

"Alba canceled because you weren't coming. I swear that she thinks I'm a vessel to hang out with you now," Alexia huffed. Normally, you would have caught onto the fact that she was joking, but you took it as anger. Alexia realized that she had definitely said the wrong thing and scrambled to apologize when you whined and flopped away from her. "Hey, what's wrong amor? What is going on in your head?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you mumbled. Alexia sighed and laid down next to you. You knew that Alexia hated laying down after she had already gotten out of bed. The woman rarely ever took naps or allowed herself rest. You hadn't been there whenever Alexia was stuck recovering from her ACL, but you knew that it had a lot to do with her limited ability to do things while injured.

"I know that you are hard on yourself, and that me asking you not to be won't do much. Just like you asking me to slow down isn't really going to make me stop. We are both very stubborn and stuck in our ways, but that's okay. I have learned to accept your help and support when I need it," Alexia said. You turned to face her, unsure of where she was going with this anymore. "Maybe you should try accepting my love and support a little more too."

"I don't understand why you want me. You could have anybody you want, but you're here with me. What's so special about me?" you asked her.

Alexia cupped your cheeks and rested her forehead against yours as she whispered a single word for her answer, "Everything."

It was fairly impactful, and you found your eyes tearing up a bit. Alexia fought her instinct to panic at your tears, instead wiping them away with her thumbs. You closed the distance between your faces and kissed her. Alexia didn't push or pry with the kiss, letting you show her what you were currently comfortable with.

Alexia would never openly complain about it, but you knew how hard it was for her to hold off physically whenever you got down on yourself. There was a certain level of affection that Alexia had gotten used to with you, and for you to suddenly close yourself off completely left her confused and hurt. For you to kiss her like that while you were upset felt like a huge step, one that Alexia hoped she could use to get you to open up about what in particular had caused you to spiral this time.

"I don't know why you would ever think that you weren't everything that I've ever wanted for myself and more. Would you tell me if someone said something to you that made you think otherwise?" Alexia asked. She had learned very quickly to look out for you. Her family loved you, even if there were a few members who had been fond of exes and believed that those had been the right choices for Alexia. It wasn't an easy decision, but Alexia had lessened contact with them for the time being.

"It's not like before, it's stupid. I just need to stay away from my phone for a while, that's all." You had hoped that mumbling your way through your words would have kept Alexia from understanding you, but of course, that hadn't worked. Alexia knew what to listen for, and you could see her face fall. She blamed herself, just like you knew that she would. Alexia wanted to protect you from everything, and she took it personally whenever she 'slipped up' and something upset you.

"We can both working on being more present," Alexia decided. You were glad that she didn't go in on herself about not catching anything wrong earlier. She pressed a quick kiss to your forehead as she pulled you into her arms to cuddle. You hadn't been sleeping overly well despite spending all day in bed, so you quickly fell asleep in Alexia's arms.

…

Alexia could tell that while she had managed to pull you out of your own head long enough to get you to dinner with her mother and sister, her work was far from finished. You were no stranger to the stereotype that the Spanish were affectionate, you were a pretty big part of that, but Alexia was the outlier. She didn't necessarily have trouble being affectionate, but she wasn't as naturally friendly as Jenni or Leila tended to be.

As she looked at your mood begin to drop again, she decided to take a page from their books. Alexia knew how much the simplest gestures could mean to you, and maybe she was feeling a little brave after a few glasses of wine (and the shots that Alba managed to sneak in without their mother noticing.) Alexia held onto one of your hands, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss.

"You and Alba have got to stop doing shots while you're doing dishes," you laughed. Alexia scoffed, but didn't deny that had been what they were doing. You were free to know that as long as you kept your mouth shut about it to other people.

"I love you. Is it illegal for me to show you that now?" Alexia asked, a bit snarkier than usual. You bit your lip as you looked over to see her pouting. You sighed and pressed a kiss to her cheek as you rolled up to a stoplight. "You look really good tonight."

"Oh, so you're loving on me because you're horny. Okay, got it," you teased. Alexia stammered and stuttered to defend yourself until you gave her another kiss. From that point on, Alexia spent the rest of the car ride trying to kiss your neck. You were glad that nobody seemed to be out because you did not want some random person to catch the two of you like that. "Alright, hands to yourself until we get in the apartment, got it?"

"Bossy, I kind of like it." You gave Alexia a glare until she agreed to listen to you. It came as a genuine surprise when Alexia did keep her hands and mouth to herself. The only time she touched you was to steady herself as the two of you walked down the hallway towards your front door.

You had partially expected for Alexia to be all over you before the door was even shut, but instead, she just calmly led you back into your bedroom. Alexia kept you in your dress, but took her jacket off and started to unbutton her shirt as she made her way over to the bed. You knew that Alexia liked your dress a lot, but you honestly wanted to get out of it as soon as you could.

"Are you going to pout if I don't let you take this off of me?" you asked her. Alexia shook her head as she rolled her sleeves up a little. You bit your lip as you watched the muscles in her forearms flex. "On second thought, Ale can you get the back of my dress. I don't think I can reach."

"Of course, I can. Anything to help you," Alexia muttered as she sat up on her knees. She knelt at the edge of the bed to help you undo the back of your dress. You could feel her eyes on your skin just moments before she just decided to do what she had clearly been wanting to all night.

You shivered at the initial feeling of her mouth against yours. Alexia slowly pushed your dress off of your body, trailing kisses down your back as the fabric fell. You stepped out of the dress and turned around, cradling the back of Alexia's head. She looked up at you as her hands grabbed your hips to pull you onto her body.

"Ale!" you squealed as she flipped you onto your back. You let out a sigh at the press of her body against yours, something that you had been missing in a while. Alexia had been busy, as had you, so there hadn't been room for much other than a quickie here or there. Neither of you wanted to pressure the other for intimacy, so both of you had just sort of let it happen.

"You look good, and obviously I haven't been showing you how much I love you enough. We don't have to do this if you don't want to, but please don't ice me out." You didn't think that you had ever heard Alexia speak to you like that. She was borderline pleading with you, and you knew that it wasn't just for sex. Alexia probably couldn't have cared less whether or not she got laid. What she did care about was showing you every bit of love and affection that she could.

"O-okay, I want this too. I really do, I'm just a little nervous I guess," you told her. Alexia seemed to really take that to heart as she leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was soft and sweet, and Alexia waited for you to pull her in to deepen it. Your lips parted for Alexia's tongue.

You and Alexia shared several more kisses before your neediness set in. Alexia only pushed things on your cue. You pushed at her shoulders, furthering her path down your body. Alexia lingered at a few places, lathering your breasts with kisses. You tried to subtly wriggle out of your underwear to avoid ruining the pair, but Alexia's body on top of yours made it a bit difficult.

"Is something wrong?" Alexia asked as you started to push her off of you a little. With her sitting up now, you were able to pull your underwear down your legs. Alexia looked at you with a somewhat unimpressed look, but it quickly left as her attention was turned to your cunt.

"I was hot." You let out a soft chuckle, one that was interrupted by Alexia's fingers tweaking your nipples. Her fingers continued to pinch and tease while she feverishly kissed you. The kiss was a bit messy, even with Alexia trying to show a bit of restraint with you.

Even your most seemingly romantic sex didn't come with such caution. There was a bit more obvious passion, but you knew that Alexia's love for you was coming through her care. She didn't want to rush you, even if your body was starting to crave the faster pacing.

You held out on begging or pushing Alexia too quickly, and your reward was plentiful. Alexia held onto both of your hands as she ate you out. Her tongue lapped up the juices of your arousal in between its calculated assault on your clit. Alexia alternated between flicking her tongue against your clit and sucking the bud into her mouth.

"Fuck! Ale, please don't stop! Baby, I'm so close," you cried out. Alexia kept her efforts steady, not breaking her rhythm for anything. Your hips were moving wildly against her face, riding her hard enough to nearly break her nose. Alexia stayed strong until your hands stopped holding onto hers.

"I. Love. You." Alexia placed a kiss to your thigh between each of her words. You glanced down to see her lips glistening with your wetness.

"C'mere," you mumbled. Alexia moved from between your legs and leaned against the pillows next to you. You lazily reached up and pulled her down for a kiss, slowly licking the remnants of yourself from her lips.

"Fuck," Alexia groaned. You gave her a couple of sweet kisses after that before you dropped your hands and curled up to lay in her lap. "I know that won't magically fix everything, but do you feel any better?"

"Yeah, I do. Thank you for looking out for me Ale. I love you," you told her.

"I love you too," Alexia whispered as she ran her hands through your hair. You laid like that for a couple of moments before you started to get cold and moved to cover yourself up. Alexia didn't even seem to notice, having drifted off to sleep without even fully laying down yet.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (05)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 9.4k

Aliyah's Notes: i have two exams in five years and i still haven't slept, so if u notice any mistakes pls ignore them. i'll fix them when i have time, and yes a scene is inspired by the maddest obsession BUT ANYW AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS INSANE AND PLS DONT SCREAM AT ME FOR THE ENDING LIKE IM SO SORRY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE

“Hey, you want to know something?” Sarah said, approaching you as you sat quietly at a table, lost in thought. Beside her, two girls: one had mid-length brown curls and sun-kissed blonde highlights, gave you a friendly grin, her energy light and approachable. The other had wavy, jet-black hair that framed her face, her features both sharp and effortlessly beautiful. They were stunning, you thought, in a way that felt both comforting and a little intimidating. “I never liked her. Even back when she and my brother were together, I never got along with Chiara.”

The girl with the highlighted curls nodded, sliding into the seat next to you. “Same here. There’s always been something... off about her,” she agreed, scrunching her nose in a way that made you smile. “Oh! I’m Kiara, by the way,” she added quickly. “Different spelling than Chiara, but I promise we’re nothing alike.”

The girl with the wavy black hair gave a little wave as she took the seat across from you, her smile warm and easy. “And I’m Cleo,” she introduced herself with a slight accent. “Can’t say I disagree with Sarah and Kie here. Chiara’s just... kind of a staple at these things. She’s always been around, so the guys still invite her out of habit.”

“And if they didn’t, she’d probably throw a tantrum,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes in exasperation. 

You felt a warmth creeping into your cheeks as you looked at the three of them, surprised by how welcoming they were. “Thanks, girls. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said shyly, offering a small smile. 

“Girl, we know who you are,” Cleo came to sit on your side and nudged you softly. “But don’t worry, you’re part of the group now—Chiara who?” she joked, making you all laugh.

You cleared your throat, glancing between the three girls who were deep in conversation. The question had been sitting heavy on your mind since the moment you met Chiara. “So… Rafe and her—did they used to date?”

The girls exchanged a look, the brief silence almost uncomfortable. It was as if they were weighing their words, deciding what to say or what to hold back. Their reluctance only made you want answers more. Who was Chiara to Rafe, really?

Finally, Sarah glanced away, a frown crossing her face. “It’s… complicated.”

You couldn’t help but lean in, unable to stop the curiosity stirring in your chest. “How complicated?” you pressed. “Were they exes? Friends with benefits? Did they break up right before Rafe and I got together? Or was it just her holding on to a crush he never—”

Kiara gently placed a hand over yours, her eyes warm and understanding. “Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to overthink it, alright?”

You sighed, the uncertainty making your stomach twist. “I just wish I knew what they are—or were—to each other. Rafe hasn’t said a word about her. Not a thing.”

Cleo gave you a sympathetic look, and Sarah hesitated, biting her lip as though weighing whether to say more. Finally, she began, “Wait, so he really didn’t tell you about what they—”

But Sarah’s words were cut off abruptly as Rafe’s voice broke through the noise of the party. “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

The girls turned toward him, their expressions ranging from surprise to mild disgust.

Kiara shot him a skeptical look, brows raised. “Who did he just call ‘sweetheart’?”

Cleo’s eyes widened as she put her hands up in mock innocence. “Definitely not me.”

Sarah shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Don’t look at me. My brother’s never called me any nickname. So, nope, not me either.”

Their eyes turned back to you, and it clicked. Rafe’s gaze was fixed on you, his face serious, almost imploring. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Chiara. She was a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation with JJ, yet her eyes were unmistakably trained on you and Rafe. Her expression was unreadable, something between irritation and curiosity, and the ambiguity of it only frustrated you more.

Rafe’s voice softened, his eyes searching yours. “Y/N, let’s go. Please?”

“I’m serious about her, Chiara,” was what Rafe replied earlier, his voice firm but before you could register the words, Chiara grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the garden without so much as a second glance in your direction, leaving you alone in the middle of the party—feeling like a complete idiot.

You weren’t sure how to feel about Rafe’s words. It was exactly what you’d hoped to hear, but his delivery had been off, and the way he left with her immediately afterward left a sour taste. You remember watching them through the windows. Their conversation looked intense. Chiara’s hands moved wildly, gesturing with a frustration that seemed matched by Rafe, who kept sighing and tossing his arms up in exasperation. Whatever they discussed, it was clearly charged.

But now, Rafe was standing in front of you, his expression unreadable as he asked to talk. About what? You didn’t know. Maybe he’d finally explain who Chiara was to him or put to rest the suspicion twisting in your gut, though you doubted he would. Instead of lingering on the countless possibilities, you took a steadying breath, nodded, and followed him outside.

The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the party’s warmth, and you found yourself standing on the porch beside him, facing the quiet street. For a moment, silence fell between you, thick and awkward, as if neither of you knew where to begin. He glanced at you and you felt a flicker of anticipation mixed with unease, wondering what he’d say—if he’d finally give you the answers you were looking for.

Rafe leaned against the porch railing, arms folded, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “Look... Chiara just… she doesn’t handle change well,” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive. “She’s just… used to things being a certain way. She's dramatic."

You crossed your arms, holding back the questions building up. “Right. So, she drags you outside because she’s feeling… what? Dramatic?”

He glanced at you, then quickly looked away, jaw tightening. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice clipped. “She’s… she’s just not used to seeing me with someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light. “Oh, so I’m the problem?”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, it’s not you. It’s…” He paused, as if weighing how much he wanted to say. “She just thinks… I don’t know, she has her own ideas about things. She probably assumed things were the way they used to be.”

You frowned. “Used to be?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and when Rafe didn’t answer right away, you continued. “So, you two were… what? Together?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Things just... overlapped for a while. It was just… a thing. A long time ago.”

Your patience was wearing thin. “And by ‘a long time ago,’ you mean… what? Last week? Last month?”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Shit, why does it matter? Whatever it was, it’s over, alright? I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you.”

“Maybe you do need to,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks heat. “I think I deserve to know when I’m about to walk into a situation where some girl is going to pull you away and act like I’m the one intruding.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not just ‘some girl.’ She’s… someone I’ve known for a while. And she’s… complicated. Okay?”

“Right. ‘Complicated.’” You let the word hang in the air, dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it’s just so complicated that you couldn’t even bother to tell me about her before dragging me into this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “It’s not like that. I just… I didn’t think she’d show up here. I didn’t think it would matter.”

You shook your head, folding your arms tighter around yourself. “Well, maybe it does matter, Rafe. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she has some claim on you.”

"What?" Rafe’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he straightened up, clearly done with the conversation. “Look, she doesn’t have a fucking ‘claim’ on me. It’s nothing. Just… drop it.”

The bluntness of his words stung, and you took a steadying breath, keeping your voice as even as possible. “Fine,” you said coolly, shrugging as if you weren’t affected. “But you might want to let her know that.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before his gaze met yours again. “You’re overthinking it. She’s… she’s just used to being a part of my life, and now things are different. She’ll deal with it.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “Funny, because from where I was standing, it didn’t look like she was planning to just ‘deal with it.’ It looked like she was… I don’t know, trying to stake her territory or something.”

Rafe sighed, looking away again. “That’s just how she is. She’s always… been intense. Doesn’t mean anything.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to jealousy. “So, I’m just supposed to ignore it? Pretend she didn’t pull you, my boyfriend, outside to… to lecture you about me?”

“Exactly,” he replied, his tone abrupt. “It’s just noise. Don’t pay her any mind.”

The simplicity of his response only fueled your irritation. “Right. Because I should just… ignore all of this and act like nothing’s wrong.”

“Look, I didn’t ask her to make a scene,” he said, his voice sharper now. “And I didn’t think she’d come here tonight. She just… showed up, okay?”

You paused, studying his expression, which was a mixture of defensiveness and something else you couldn’t quite place. “So, what’s the story with her?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, though you knew it was anything but.

Rafe let out a frustrated breath. “There’s no ‘story,’ alright? She’s just… she was around for a while, that’s it. We had… an understanding.”

You raised an eyebrow, the vagueness of his answer only adding to your frustration. “An understanding,” you repeated slowly, crossing your arms tighter. “Well, it seems like she didn’t quite get the memo that whatever ‘understanding’ you had is over.”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the house as if hoping someone would interrupt. “She’ll get over it. I just didn’t expect her to… make it a whole thing.”

“Maybe she made it a whole thing because you haven’t made it clear to her that it’s… nothing,” you said, emphasizing his own words back to him.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you making this such a big deal? It’s not like we're actually together. This—" he said, moving his fingers between you two "—is fake, in case you forgot.”

“Oh, right, because it’s so normal for the girl you used to have… whatever with to show up at a party and act like I’m the one intruding.” You shook your head, exasperated. “Forgive me for wanting to understand the situation.”

He shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “It’s just… old history. Not worth bringing up.”

“Then maybe you should have thought of that before dragging me into this,” you shot back, your voice laced with frustration.

He finally met your gaze, his jaw set. “Dragging you into what? It’s not like I invited her here.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Did you invite me here to watch your past blow up in front of us?”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh. “This is what I get for trying to bring you around my friends. Next time, I’ll keep it strictly professional. How’s that?”

You felt a pang of hurt, but you masked it with a tight smile. “Perfect. I’ll remember that for next time, Rafe.” You turned away, taking a few steps back toward the house, hoping he’d get the hint that you were done.

But Rafe’s hand closed gently around your wrist, stopping you. “Wait.” His voice was low, reluctant, but there was a softness there you hadn’t expected.

You turned, catching his gaze, which had softened just slightly. “What?”

He hesitated, then let go of your wrist, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I just… I didn’t expect her to react this way. I thought… things were clear between us.”

“Clearly, they’re not,” you replied, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

Rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll try to talk to her, alright? Make sure she understands. But can we just… leave it here?”

You watched him, seeing the frustration, the tension in his shoulders, and you knew he wasn’t about to tell you any more than he already had. So, instead of pushing it further, you forced a casual shrug. “Fine. Whatever. It’s none of my business anyway, right?”

A flicker of something passed across his face—surprise, maybe, or regret. “Right. It’s not,” he said, though his voice was quieter, as if the words didn’t sit right with him.

You nodded, biting back the urge to say anything more. “Great. Glad we’re on the same page.”

An awkward silence settled between you, the tension thick and unresolved. Rafe shifted, glancing toward the house. “We should get back. People will start talking if we’re both out here too long.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” The sarcasm was sharp, but you didn’t care; you were too irritated to soften it.

He shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and apology, but said nothing as he turned to head back inside. You followed a few paces behind, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, every unanswered question lingering like a shadow.

Before reaching the door, Rafe paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glanced back at you. “Listen…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “It’s… just a lot, okay? Give me some time. I’ll sort it out.”

You held his gaze, unsure whether to believe him, but you nodded once. “Fine. But make it clear, Rafe. I’m not here to play second fiddle to some girl from your past. My life is on the line and I don't have time to worry about this sort of thing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say, he swallowed back. Instead, he gave a tight nod and pushed open the door, slipping back into the noise and light of the party. You followed him and plastered on a fake smile while wondering if you’d ever get the truth out of him.

For the next hour, you put on a mask, pretending everything was fine—like nothing happened. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they lingered, clouding every moment. What was Rafe and Chiara’s relationship? You forced yourself to focus on the laughter, the music, and the warmth of the people around you, determined to enjoy the night with Rafe’s friends. Yet every so often, your mind drifted back to Chiara and Rafe, leaving an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

Rafe took you around the room, introducing you to his teammates: Topper Thornton, Kelce Miller, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, and John B Routledge. They each greeted you with a friendly smile and a welcoming vibe. You found yourself particularly drawn to Topper's lighthearted humor and Pope's quiet charm, making it a bit easier to relax. But it was the girls who truly helped lift your spirits. Their energy was infectious, and you quickly found yourself laughing and swapping stories as if you’d known them forever.

Just as you were in the middle of an animated conversation, you heard someone call out, "Miss supermodel!" You turned to see Topper staggering toward you with a mischievous grin, clearly several drinks deep. “Come drink with us! You haven’t had a single sip all night!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he swayed slightly, holding up a red cup with a challenging look. He finally came in front of you and you had to shake your head. “I’m sorry, Topper. I can’t drink tonight. I’m on contract.”

He whined and threw his head back. “Why? A little sip won’t hurt you, right? Come on, please.”

You laughed, shaking your hands as he pouted dramatically, swaying slightly. “Topper, you’re wasted! I think you’ve had enough for both of us.”

He held his heart in mock offense. “Oh, come on! Just one tiny sip!” He held out the cup, swirling it a little as if to tempt you. “Look, it’s just tequila! You can handle tequila, right?”

You hesitated, glancing down at the cup and then back at his hopeful face. “I really shouldn’t… If anyone from the agency finds out, I’m in trouble.”

“Who’s gonna know? It’s just us here, right?” He looked around, grinning mischievously. “Your secret’s safe with me. And, hey, you can’t just let me be the only one embarrassing myself tonight.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Alright, one sip. But that’s it, okay?”

Topper’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yes! That’s all I’m asking for.” He held out the cup, his face eager with anticipation.

You took the cup from him, feeling the weight of all the eyes on you as his friends turned to watch, clearly amused by the scene. Raising the cup to your lips, you took a big sip, the tequila burning as it went down. You scrunched your nose at the taste, earning a round of cheers from Topper and the girls.

“There we go! Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Awful,” you teased, wiping your lips. “But now you can’t say I didn’t drink with you.”

Topper gave you a victorious grin. “I knew you’d come through! You’re practically one of us now.”

You should’ve known.

Less than an hour later, you were stumbling across the living room, thoroughly tipsy and clinging to Kiara, who was somehow even more drunk than you. The two of you were giggling uncontrollably, reduced to hysterics over the silliest things—the pretzels shaped like animals, the crooked painting on the wall. Every little thing was hilarious, and the alcohol only seemed to amplify your laughter and loosen your inhibitions.

Lost in your little bubble, you didn’t notice Rafe watching from across the room, his gaze sharp and unblinking as he kept tabs on you. He hadn’t seen you like this before—free-spirited, a little reckless, and definitely wilder than he was used to. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched you shout out something along the lines of, “Everyone should just strip already!” before lifting the hem of your top, ready to make good on your words.

That was Rafe’s cue. In a flash, he crossed the room, slipping his hands over yours before you could pull your shirt over your head. His touch was firm, grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "Whoa there," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, but his eyes were warm, almost protective.

You blinked up at Rafe, a goofy grin plastered across your face as you realized he was standing right in front of you. The room spun just a little, but his steady hands on yours felt oddly comforting.

“Rafe!” you slurred, beaming as though you hadn’t seen him in days. “Fuck! Isn’t it, like, super hot in here?”

Rafe smirked, shaking his head. “I think that’s just the tequila talking, baby,” he replied, steadying you as you swayed. His fingers stayed wrapped around yours, almost possessive, but he didn’t let go.

You pouted, glancing around at the half-dressed friends who were now laughing at your enthusiastic outburst. “Fine, but I was just trying to help everyone loosen up, you know?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ve definitely loosened up,” he chuckled, his eyes scanning you, both entertained and slightly exasperated. “Maybe… a little too much.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “You know you enjoy it.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, but there was something else there, too—like he was seeing a side of you he hadn’t before. “Maybe I do,” he replied, his voice low, almost as if the words had slipped out unintentionally. He cleared his throat, his grip tightening on your hands. “But I also love it when you’re not stripping in front of half my team.”

You giggled, reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair. “Aww, big, tough Rafe is jealous I haven’t stripped to him first, is that it?”

Just then, Kiara stumbled over, clearly in search of more entertainment. “Hey! Let’s play a game, everyone!” 

Rafe sighed. “Alright, I think that’s our cue to leave,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he looked back at you.

You tugged on Rafe’s arm, leaning into him with a dramatic pout. “Nooooo… let’s play the game, and then we can go,” you insisted.

“Y/N, you’re beyond wasted,” he said, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “I doubt you’ll even be able to play the game right.”

“I am not drunk,” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly. The words slurred just slightly, giving you away. Rafe’s skeptical look only deepened. “I’m just a little tipsy,” you amended quickly, giving him a grin. “Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill.”

He hesitated, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern. For a moment, he seemed ready to argue, but as you flashed him your brightest, most convincing smile, he sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine,” he muttered, finally giving in.

You joined everyone on the floor, settling into a circle with a bottle of vodka at the center and shot glasses placed around. The music was turned down, but the room’s energy buzzed with anticipation. You found yourself between Rafe on your left and Sarah on your right. Across from you were Pope, Cleo, John B, and Chiara, each giving you encouraging grins or a raised brow.

Kiara took charge with a gleeful smile. “Alright, you all know how Never Have I Ever works, right?” She scanned the group, receiving nods all around. “Perfect! If anyone wants to skip a question, you take a shot. Simple enough. Should I start?” She tapped her chin playfully before flashing a mischievous grin. “Never have I ever dated someone at least ten years older than me.”

A chorus of laughter and surprised murmurs rippled through the group as Rafe, Kelce, and Topper each dropped a finger. A few gasps followed, and your eyes darted to Rafe, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"So, you’re into cougars, huh?” you whispered, unable to hide your amused smile.

He shrugged, glancing at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Not anymore,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips. The slow lick he gave his own sent a spark through you, making you gulp and look away quickly. Was it the alcohol, or did he just do that on purpose?

JJ smirked, taking the lead for the next round. “Alright, let’s up the stakes. Never have I ever been in handcuffs…and I don’t mean the kind from a police station.”

The number of people lowering their fingers was surprising. Sarah, John B, Kelce, Chiara, Cleo...and even you. As soon as you put your finger down, Rafe snapped his head in your direction, his eyes wide with surprise. You avoided his gaze, a sly smirk playing on your lips as you focused elsewhere, feeling his lingering stare and the unspoken question in his eyes.

“Lots of naughty people here,” Kiara smirked, eyeing the group of us who had fingers down. Her grin was wicked as she surveyed the room, making everyone squirm just a little. “I see y’all… I see y’all! Alright, someone else ask the next question!”

Topper jumped at the chance, grinning as he dramatically raised a finger. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room,” he declared, looking around with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

You watched as some people—those who were obviously in relationships (and Chiara)—put their fingers down, laughing and giving each other cute looks. You shrugged, you didn’t relate to that question. You didn’t do anything, leaning back as others shared knowing glances. But then, Rafe nudged your shoulder, leaning down close enough for you to feel his breath against your ear.

“Come on, put a finger down,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb grazing in gentle circles, as if to coax you into admitting something.

You shook your head, letting out a sleepy laugh. “I don’t have a crush on anyone,” you slurred, clearly drunk. Your words came out slower, a bit softer, and you could feel Rafe chuckle beside you, probably entertained by how far gone you were.

“Did you forget we’re together?” he asked, amused. Without waiting for your response, he took your hand and put a finger down for you. His touch was gentle, yet possessive.

JJ spotted the exchange, laughter bursting out of him as he pointed at you. “Oh, damn, Rafe! She actually forgot she even likes you!”

Rafe shot him a mock glare, flipping him off with a grin. “That’s on you, fuck-heads, for handing her all those shots,” he retorted, pointing an accusatory finger around the group. “We’re gonna head out soon if she keeps this up.”

“No! Don’t go!” Cleo’s voice suddenly cut through, practically pouting. “I like her! Don’t take her away from me—us!”

Pope waved his hands, laughing as he tried to steer the game back on course. “Alright, let’s just keep this moving before the girls start crying. Here’s one—never have I ever had a threesome.”

The room went quiet, people hesitating to react. Then smirks appeared, and the accusations started flying at JJ, with Topper and a few others pointing fingers. “Come on, man! We literally saw you making out with two girls at once last month!”

You felt the conversation slipping in and out, barely paying attention to the bickering. Your head felt heavy, and with each passing second, you found yourself drifting further. Almost without realizing it, you leaned into Rafe’s shoulder, your head resting there like it had always belonged. His arm wrapped around you, hand trailing up and down your shoulder in comforting circles, and you closed your eyes, feeling strangely at peace. His warmth surrounded you, making the noise around you blur into the background. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you could stay like this forever.

Across the room, Chiara’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the two of you, her jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. Her stare was sharp, piercing, and a flash of something darker seemed to flicker there.

“Hey, guys! Let’s stop arguing and actually play,” Sarah called out, snapping everyone’s attention back to the game. She pointed at you and Rafe, grinning. “Those two are practically out like lights! Okay, here’s one: never have I ever had sex in a movie theater.”

Laughter erupted again as John B hesitated, clearly too shy to admit to anything. You looked up at Rafe, raising an eyebrow playfully as if to ask if he’d ever done something like that. He met your gaze, shaking his head.

When he raised his brow to ask you the same question, you mimicked his gesture, shaking your head. But then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned into him, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Bathrooms, though… I’ve done it there.” You weren’t sure why you said it—he hadn’t even asked. “I don’t know if that counts…”

Rafe’s brows shot up in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re freakier than you look.”

You chuckled, leaning back. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t look like the type?”

He shook his head slowly, letting his eyes wander over you, his gaze lingering on your lips before it drifted back up to your eyes. “Not exactly,” he murmured, voice low.

“Oh?” you asked, hand drifting to rest on his thigh, watching the glint in his blue eyes intensify as he looked down at your hand. “Come on, Cameron. Tell me what I look like, then.”

His fingers traced light patterns under the hem of your shirt, brushing over the skin at your waist in a way that made your breath hitch. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You look like you want to be fucked roughly,” he paused, letting his words linger before he added with a smirk, “but maybe you should get some sleep instead.”

You playfully swatted his arm, pushing yourself upright with a laugh. “Screw you, Rafe.”

With a grin, he pulled you back to his side, wrapping his arms around you as you settled against him again. “Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice gentle but teasing. “You know I’m just messing with you—”

Chiara Romano’s voice cut through the chatter with an edge sharper than before. “Okay, my turn now,” she said, raising her head, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel uneasy. “Never have I ever…” she paused, letting her gaze linger on you a moment longer, her lips curling into a smirk that held none of the warmth and humor everyone else’s questions had. “... never have I ever filmed myself in the bathroom puking my guts out after eating.”

A shocked silence fell over the room. You felt the air freeze, every eye darting to Chiara in disbelief, and then back to you. The words hit like a punch to the gut, and the humiliation was instant and overwhelming. Your face flushed as the awful memories flooded back—the horrible moment that video had been leaked, exposing your bulimia to the world without mercy. You’d spent months trying to rebuild, to reclaim your own story, but now it was out in the open again, with a cruelty that left you breathless.

Your cheeks flamed with humiliation, and your chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of the room. You felt every gaze on you, piercing, questioning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s eyes. Your fingers curled around your tighs, gripping tightly, almost leaving red marks.

You closed your eyes the moment you felt tears coming up. You didn’t want to cry in front of everyone, it was embarrassing enough that they got reminded of the most embarrassing moment of your life—crying would embarrass you even more. None of them know what you went through after that video got leaked. No one knew the nights you spent in rehab centers getting mocked for the video—as if everyone there wasn’t in because of mental illnesses too. They didn’t know the amount of strength it took for you to finally get clean… only for you to relapse again this afternoon.

They didn’t fucking know!

Rafe stood up beside you, his body going tense beside you. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at her. “What the fuck is wrong you?” he yelled, his voice sharp, like he was barely holding back.

She shrugged, feigning innocence, though the smirk stayed firmly on her face. “What? I thought we were all sharing our secrets here, right? After all, the video has already been leaked for everyone to see, like, years ago… didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

You felt like you were drowning, the walls closing in on you as Chiara’s words rang in your ears. Without thinking, you bolted for the door, the need to escape driving you forward. You pushed past Rafe, who instinctively reached out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to get out, away from the judgment, away from the stares that felt like daggers. The cold night air hit you as you stepped outside, but it didn’t matter; all you could think about was putting as much distance between yourself and the party as possible.

The rain poured down in sheets, drenching you instantly. You stumbled through the downpour, your heart racing as you made your way toward the car, the asphalt slick and glistening under the streetlights. You couldn’t believe it had come to this, running away like some frightened child, but the humiliation burned too fiercely to stand another moment.

Behind you, you heard Rafe call out your name, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. “Y/N! Fuck—wait!” He sounded frantic, his tone a mix of worry and urgency. You could hear him rushing after you, his footsteps splashing through puddles as he chased you down.

“Just leave me alone!” you shouted over your shoulder, the words coming out more desperate than you intended. You didn’t want to feel his pity, didn’t want him to see you like this—broken and exposed. 

“Look, I’m so sorry for what she—”

“I don’t want your fucking pity, Rafe!” you turned around to see him running toward you. His clothes clinging to his body. “Just go back there, and leave me alone for the night, alright?”

“I’m not leaving you!” he shouted back, his voice firm. You could hear the determination in his tone, and it both soothed and angered you. Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

You reached the car, fumbling with the door handle, your fingers slipping as the rain poured down, obscuring your vision. You wanted to get inside, to hide from everything—from Chiara, from your mistakes, from the shame that clung to you like a second skin.

Just as you finally got the door open, Rafe was there, blocking your way. He stood next to you, soaking wet but unbothered, his expression fierce and protective. “Y/N, please,” he urged, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Come on… Just… just talk to me.”

His presence was grounding, but you couldn’t shake off the overwhelming tide of emotions surging through you. “What’s there to talk about?” you asked, your voice broke. “It’s all out there for everyone to see. I couldn’t handle it back then and I… I can’t handle it now. I can’t…” you felt tears pooling at your eyes.

Rafe took a step closer, rain cascading down his face, but he didn’t reach for you. Instead, he held his hands up, palms facing you. “Don’t run away from this.”

“Watch me,” you shot back, glaring at him through tears. “You can’t fix this, Rafe, so just let me go.”

“I am not letting you go,” he insisted. “What she did was cruel—she felt miserable seeing us together. You know better than this.”

“Do I?” you echoed, feeling your own resolve wavering as you locked eyes with him. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with the history she just exposed. You’re not the one who’s been ridiculed for something that was leaked against your will!”

“Neither am I the one hiding in a corner, sulking because some jealous bitch decided to take a cheap shot,” Rafe countered, his frustration evident. “You’re stronger than this, so stop acting like you’re not. Stand up for yourself!”

“Stand up for myself?” You laughed, a hollow sound that echoed in the rain. “And how do you suggest I do that? By going back there and asking her to apologize? By acting like it doesn’t hurt?”

“Why give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s getting to you?”

“Because it’s easy!” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “It’s easier to run away and hide than it is to face the pain! Don’t you get that? I thought I was done with all of this, and now I’m just… I’m back to square one. I thought you understood me better than that.”

“Clearly, I don’t,” he said, his tone cutting. “You want to hide, and I’m not going to let you hide from yourself. I care about you, Y/N...”

You felt your heart pound in your chest, caught between anger and a flicker of something deeper. “What you care about is saving face. You want the perfect girlfriend who can handle anything. But I’m not that person, Rafe. I’m a mess. I have issues, and I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”

He stepped closer, the tension between you thick and electric. “And I’m not asking you to pretend. I’m asking you to be real. To be honest about what you’re feeling. We can face this if you’d just let me help you instead of pushing me away.”

You hesitated, the rain drumming a steady rhythm around you as you stared at him. “Maybe I don’t want your help. Maybe I don’t need anyone to fix me.”

“Then why the hell are you running away from this?” he challenged, his voice rising again. “Because it’s too hard? Because it makes you uncomfortable? Life is uncomfortable, Y/N! That’s the reality, and running away doesn’t change that.”

“I just don’t want to do this right now,” you shot back, the weariness of the night creeping in. “I didn’t sign up for a therapy session. I wanted to have fun, to forget, and now it feels like I’m being dragged back into all the crap.”

Rafe’s expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained. “And you can’t forget by ignoring it. You have to face it, and I’m not going to let you do it alone. If that means we argue, then so be it. But I’m not walking away.”

You looked away, biting your lip to keep the frustration at bay. “Maybe you should. Maybe it would be easier for both of us.”

“Easier? For who?” he challenged but you couldn’t answer him anymore.

You didn’t have the strength to fight. You sighed. “Can you get me home or not?”

He ran his hands through his buzzcut and nodded. “You’re not gonna say goodbye to everyone?” You shook your head, not wanting to get back in there and look at them staring at you. “Alright… get in the car, then.”

You climbed into the passenger seat, the cool leather sticking to your damp clothes. Rafe slipped in beside you, his jaw set, hands gripping the wheel. Neither of you said a word, the silence thick and uncomfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. You stared out the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass, trying to focus on anything other than the weight of the tension that hung between you.

Your heart was still pounding, the adrenaline from the confrontation lingering in your veins. You could feel the shame gnawing at you, the humiliation settling into a deep, aching hollow inside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe shifting in his seat, glancing at you every so often, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something. But he kept quiet, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked road ahead. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, a small, nervous rhythm that betrayed the stillness in the car.

The silence was suffocating, heavy with words unsaid. You could feel the questions he wanted to ask, the concern he held back, but he didn’t press. Part of you appreciated it, yet another part of you wished he would just break the silence, say something to shatter this unbearable quiet.

You stole a glance at him, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched. He was clearly wrestling with something, struggling between respecting your need for space and his own instinct to reach out. But his restraint made everything feel even more surreal, like the two of you were strangers again, pretending not to know each other’s pain.

Eventually, you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill of your damp clothes seep into your skin.

When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, he kept the engine running, his hands still gripping the wheel tightly. He didn’t make any move to get out or say goodbye. He just sat there, glancing out the window before looking back at you, his lips parting slightly as if he might finally say something.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed the door open, stepping out into the drizzle that had softened into a gentle mist. The cold bit into your skin, but you barely noticed. You closed the door behind you, barely looking back, willing yourself not to dwell on the weight of his stare as you turned toward the entrance of your building—but you paused, feeling a pang of dread at the thought of stepping into your apartment alone. The quiet and emptiness that usually felt like a sanctuary now seemed suffocating. You hesitated, glancing back at the car where Rafe still sat, staring out into the rain.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned back and walked toward him, knocking gently on his window. He looked up, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his face as he rolled the window down. The awkwardness was palpable, hanging between you like a fragile thread.

“Do you… want to come up?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I just don’t feel like being alone right now.” You glanced away, feeling vulnerable, exposed. This wasn’t easy to admit, especially not to him.

Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. He hesitated, the tension in his posture softening as he considered your request. “Uh, yeah… sure,” he replied, though there was a touch of awkwardness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he was the right person for this. Still, he killed the engine and got out of the car, following you toward the entrance.

Inside the building, you moved wordlessly up the stairs together, the elevator’s light out as usual. The quiet between you was no longer charged with unspoken tension but instead carried a strange, subdued calm. Each step felt heavier, and you could feel his presence just a few inches behind you, grounding you in a way that felt strangely comforting.

When you finally reached your door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, flicking on a dim light that bathed the space in a warm, muted glow. Rafe followed, taking in the familiar yet intimate details of your apartment as he shrugged off his jacket. He looked unsure, like he didn’t quite know where to stand or what to say, so he hovered near the doorway.

You offered him a small, grateful smile and gestured toward the couch. “You can sit, if you want. I’ll make some tea or something,” you mumbled, moving toward the kitchen before he could respond. The warmth of your apartment slowly started to chip away at the lingering chill from the rain outside, and you felt a hint of comfort beginning to settle in.

When you returned with two mugs, Rafe had taken a seat on the couch, his gaze still wandering around the room, perhaps more at ease now. He accepted the tea with a quiet “thanks,” and you sat beside him, the silence stretching out once more, but this time it didn’t feel as heavy. 

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your knees almost touch, and every so often, your eyes meet and then dart away, a faint spark igniting each time.

It’s you who finally breaks the voice, your voice soft. “I’m going to change. I can… One of my friends’ left his clothes there, I can give them to you, if you want?”

Rafe looked up from his mug, his expression caught between surprise and a hesitant relief. “Yeah, that’d be… that’d be great,” he replied, glancing down at his damp clothes, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

You rose from the couch, moving to your room to dig through the small pile of clothes left behind from friends. Finding an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants, you returned and handed them to him, offering a half-smile. “They might be a little big, but better than wet clothes.”

He nodded, accepting them with a quiet “Thanks,” and stepped into the bathroom to change. The moment he was out of sight, you took a deep breath, feeling the quiet around you settle into something both calm and unfamiliar, his presence somehow easing the edges of your earlier anxiety. You wrapped your arms around yourself, still shaken by everything that had happened, but also oddly comforted by knowing you weren’t alone tonight.

When he emerged, dressed in the loose-fitting hoodie and sweats, he looked different—more relaxed, less guarded. He took a tentative step back into the living room, running a hand through his damp hair as he caught your eye, almost sheepish.

You managed a faint smile, gesturing to the couch again, and he sank down beside you. He set his mug on the table, his fingers fidgeting slightly before he leaned back, settling in.

“Well, I... I’ll just go change. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, your voice soft but inviting. Leaving Rafe in the living room, you headed to your bedroom, slipping into a comfortable black tank top and a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants—the ones Nina, your agent, gifted you when you’d first arrived in the U.S. They were worn in with memories, each time you wore them a reminder of how far you’d come. You removed your makeup and pulled your hair into a ponytail, feeling lighter and more yourself.

When you reemerged, you noticed Rafe standing in the hallway, intently studying a small collection of photos you had on the wall. You approached him quietly, noticing that he was particularly focused on a picture of you from when you were nineteen, dressed in a deep green saree at a friend’s wedding in the States. You were surrounded by your group of friends, all of you smiling.

“You looked beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder might disturb something precious in the moment.

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling a soft warmth rise in your cheeks. You glanced back at the photo, remembering how special that day was. “I really like this one. I’d just arrived here and didn’t know many people yet. Then a few friends invited me to the wedding, and I felt... confident, you know? Like I could start fresh here. And wearing a saree again just felt like home—the color, everything... It was my first time going to a wedding here.”

“And how did it feel?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You let out a small laugh, recalling the night. “It was just like back home, only better in some ways. No one really knew who I was, so I didn’t have any aunties critiquing me. Though they did make sure I had enough food to last a week,” you chuckled, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. The memory was comforting, a reminder of the warmth that had welcomed you into this new life.

“The color suits you,” he said, his eyes still lingering on the photo before meeting yours with a hint of a smile.

“You sure you’re not only saying that because it’s your favorite co—”

Before you could finish your phrase, he closed the space between you, his hands finding your face as he pulled you into a rough, heated kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a passion that caught you completely off guard, leaving you breathless, swept up in the sudden intensity of his need.

When he finally pulled back, your pulse was racing, and you stared at him, dazed. “Why… why did you kiss me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

A slow smirk spread across his face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I wanted to know what you tasted like… again,” he murmured, his voice thick with a teasing confidence that made your cheeks flush.

You swallowed, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips. “And what do I taste like?”

He studied your lips for a moment, then met your gaze with a dangerous glint. “Come il mio,” he said softly in Italian, his words like a promise before his mouth captured yours again, this time slower but just as consuming.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided you back into the living room, his hands firm as they slid around your waist, drawing you close. He lowered you onto the sofa, his lips moving from your mouth to trace a path down the curve of your neck, igniting your skin with each graze of his mouth. His hand slipped to the small of your back, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he continued kissing you, his breath warm against your skin, leaving you dizzy and yearning for more.

You moaned softly when he kissed and sucked the curve just below your collarbone. His lips pressed firmly against your skin, his mouth hot and possessive. The gentle graze of his teeth sent a jolt of desire through you, leaving you breathless and wanting for more. He lingered there, sucking and kissing with a fervor that made you ache for him, making you grind against him unconsciously.

“That’s going to show, Cameron,” you tried to scold him, breathless, feeling both exposed and exhilarated as he moved lower, tracing the outline of your neck.

A wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “Good. I want everyone to know.” The rasp of his voice, thick with desire, made your insides flutter as he leaned in closer, his mouth capturing the tender skin just below your ear. 

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over you. Your flushed skin, your red and pulped lips, and your hard nipples. He was admiring the evidence of his claim. The look in his gaze made your pulse quicken, both thrilling and intoxicating, as if he were savoring the sight of you beneath him.

“Shit! You look perfect like this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over one of the marks he’d left behind. The softness of his touch contrasted sharply with the heat pooling in your core, making you feel both cherished and utterly desired. “Like you belong to me.”

You sat up abruptly, a surge of confidence washing over you as you peeled off your top, revealing your bare breasts to the air without a hint of shame. Maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over you, filled with wonder and desire, as if you were the most beautiful sight he had ever encountered. Or perhaps it was the intoxicating buzz of alcohol still coursing through your veins, amplifying your boldness.

Either way, you didn't care.

“I’m the luckiest motherfucker on earth,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and awestruck, before sinking back onto the sofa, his lips finding your skin with fervor. His mouth was like fire against your breasts as he sucked and kissed, igniting a wild heat within you. You threaded your fingers through his closely cropped hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the pleasure of his touch. His tongue flicked against your nipple, sending delicious shivers coursing through your body, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gone so long without him.

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, your breath hitched with anticipation. His hand glided up your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed him most. “Rafe…” you breathed, your voice trembling with longing. “Please…”

“Please what?” he challenged, his tone teasing but laced with desire. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Just… touch me. I want you to touch me,” you moaned, your hips instinctively rolling against his hard cock-straining against the fabric of the sweatpants you gave him.

“Touch you where?”

His playful question sent a spark of frustration through you, and instead of answering verbally, you guided his hand, placing it firmly on your pussy. “Here. Touch me here. Please…”

In an instant, your pajama pants were gone, discarded like the inhibitions that had held you back. He kissed his way down your stomach, trailing hot kisses over the fabric of your panties, before moving to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t resist glancing down at him, but something tugged at your thoughts. You called out his name, your voice breathy.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, looking up with hunger.

“Take it off.” You pointed at his shirt, and without hesitation, he stripped it off in one smooth motion, revealing his chiseled torso. He climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, radiating warmth and strength. You couldn’t help but reach out, exploring his body—his hair, his lips, his broad chest, and the defined muscles of his abs.

With a sudden intensity, he kissed you again, their lips melding together as if they were made for one another. But after a moment that felt too short, he pulled away and descended between your legs once more.

Just the image of him between your legs could make you come.

“God, I want to taste you,” he groaned, his fingers touching your clit through your panties. “Tell me, pretty, do you want me to taste you?”

You nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“I do,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. “I want you so fucking much, gosh!”

As the heat in the room swelled, just when you thought Rafe would finally remove your underwear, he suddenly stopped. His hands ran frantically through his hair as he began to pace around your living room, his agitation palpable. Confusion washed over you, your brow furrowing in concern as you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Rafe, please talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it,” he said, shaking his head, the anguish in his eyes cutting through the atmosphere like a knife. “I can’t do this—”

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Panic tightened your chest as you searched his face for answers.

“Have sex with you,” he finally admitted, his gaze finally locking onto yours. “I can’t have sex with you, Y/N.”

The world around you faded, and a cold wave of vulnerability crashed over you, leaving you feeling exposed and raw. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you scrambled to grab your black top from the floor, pulling it over your head, a desperate attempt to cover not just your body but the aching hurt in your heart. “Wha… why? Why can’t you? We were doing so well… I thought it was good.”

Rafe stepped closer, his expression softening but shadowed with pain. He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, but instead of comfort, it felt worsel. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as if he were trying to transfer some of his strength to you. But then, he turned and walked toward the hallway to put on his shoes, and the ache in your chest grew.

You couldn’t let him leave like this. Panic surged through you as you sprang to your feet, rushing to the door to block his path. “Tell me why,” you insisted, your voice cracking as you wiped away the tears that had begun to fall.

“Y/N, you’re drunk…”

“So are you! You’re tipsy!” you threw your arms up in frustration. “Why does that matter? I want you. You want me—”

“Because I don’t want you to regret it,” he said, his voice breaking as if the words were tearing him apart. He sighed deeply, the weight of his decision hanging heavy between you. “I don’t want you to hate yourself when you wake up in the morning because you slept with me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rafe. Please don’t leave. Stay here with me—we don’t have to do anything,” you pleaded, desperation dripping from your every word. 

But his mind was made up. He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours one last time, a sweet farewell filled with unspoken emotions. As he asked you to step aside, you felt a piece of your heart crack. You moved reluctantly, watching as he walked toward the elevator, each step echoing in your mind like a countdown to the end.

Just before the doors closed, he turned back, his expression a mixture of regret and sorrow that mirrored your own. “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

And then he was gone.

Since then, you haven't heard from him in two weeks.

chapter six

[andhumanslovedstories]

Last two shifts I worked, I had the same patients but was precepting (training) different nurses. So two nights in a row, I have a patient with a post-op complication (guts not moving) that the surgeons are taking a conservative approach to (wait and see if the gut starts moving). This treatment plan makes sense for the specifics of this patient, but that means we’re doing a lot of symptom management without directly treating the thing that’s causing the symptoms. In this case, symptoms are pain and nausea so bad that the patient said if they’d known this is how they’d feel after, they’d have skipped the surgery and just rolled the dice with what that colon polyp would do if left alone.

So we’re throwing meds at this patient, we’re walking them so their bowels can get moving, we’re giving ice chips and gum and cold wash clothes, we’re giving IV fluids (which is SUPER rare in the hospital right now because due to one of the recent hurricanes, we are critically low on IV fluids), we’re doing basically all my tricks short of putting another tube in this guy. And it’s working okay. Like we’re keeping pain and nausea just below “intolerable” but not by much.

That first night I have that patient, while I’m talking to the surgeon on the phone, my preceptee is in the room talking to the patient. I don’t get any new orders because most usual meds that would help are contraindicated in this particular circumstance. I’m feeling frustrated about that—I HATE when I can’t get symptoms significantly under control—when my preceptee comes up excitedly and says that the patient says they’re feeling much better after the therapeutic intervention my preceptor did. The intervention was hanging out in the room for 15 mins and talking with the patient about their hometown in Canada.

(Which, hell yeah. Very proud of that new nurse because she said one of the biggest things she wanted to work on was being less nervous talking to patients.)

Next night, I got the same patient, still miserable, and a new preceptee. We’ve got more meds this time, but still only marginal success with managing symptoms. I tell my preceptee, “next time you’re in the room, plan on staying and chatting with the patient for like ten minutes.” Next time we’re in the room, we do just that—we talk sports, hobbies, plans, past surgeries, how much this surgery sucks, just the three of us shooting the shit for a while before we have to go give pain meds to another patient. (It was a surgical floor. That night was mostly handing out ice packs and oxy.)

Anyway, the patient tells us that this chat has been the best they’ve felt all night. My preceptee comes out of the room, and my preceptee is like “wow that really was our best intervention.” And I get to be like “yes witness the power of chit chat as nursing intervention.”

Reflecting back, I’m grateful that the patient was so expressive about what we did that was working. I told the patient at one point, in the midst of their most acute misery, that we were going to give them everything we had available, and if that didn’t work, I had backup plans in mind. Like you might spend the night miserable, but it’s not because we didn’t keep trying stuff. And after I say that, the patient goes, “that was good, I like that you said that, that comforted me.” Which was very nice and convenient because before we’d gone into the room, I’d talked to my preceptee about how to make patients feel supported and cared for, even when none of the care we do is working. When we left after that, my preceptee was like “wow, you’re right, that really worked,” and I was like, “I KNOW, that’s cool right? I mean you always hope it works, but sometimes you just can’t tell if it actually does.”

I love really open patients, they are such fantastic teaching opportunities. For example, I had another patient both night who was also very open, specifically about what a bad job the hospital was doing and how everyone should just stay the hell out of their room. Considerably less pleasant feedback, equally valuable, about essentially the exact same situation that the first patient was in. Talking through that patient with my preceptees was also very useful and very easy, because the patient had been so explicit in their feedback.

It’s always odd training nurses because you don’t want bad things to happen to your patients, but you also need to new nurses to see bad things. And sometimes you get a patient assignment that is so good for teaching, it’s like it came from a textbook. Very convenient for me personally as a preceptor. Feels weird to say that about patients who are having absolutely miserable times, that their misery is useful to me, but (as preceptors normally say about stuff like this) if it’s happening, at least it’s happening where we can learn about it. Anyway, great couple of shifts to practice therapeutic communication.

[lurkinginnernarrator]

A thought I had, (this isn't a fully thought out meta, just an impression of sorts.)

Something about Wei Wuxian's inherited vengeance.

Where did Wei Wuxian get that vengeance from? Mild-mannered Jiang Fengmian? Benevolent and kind Jiang Yanli? Cangse Sanren, who Wei Wuxian remembers saying something along the lines of remember the good things people do for you not the bad? Wei Changze?

The child of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze would've likely done something along the lines of protecting the common people and fighting for justice during the Sunshot campaign, but did Wei Wuxian do that?

No, I tell you truly, Wei Wuxian is also the child of Yu Ziyuan. Did they have anything resembling a healthy relationship? No. But the child of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze wouldn't slaughter thousands in unholy vengeance. Wouldn't extract oceans of blood for every drop stolen.

But the child of Yu Ziyuan would.

That isn't to say, he's only the child of Yu Ziyuan, no, we see glimpses of the influences of his other parental figures throughout the story.

Look at how he doesn't flinch from leaving the proverbial (paradise) mountain to save the wen remnants (CSSR), look at his compassion for the common people (Jiang Yanli); His sense of loyalty (Wei Changze), level headedness (Jiang Fengmian).

Something about how conscious he is of debt. Does that stem from his inherent preference of righteous action? His desire to do right? Yes. But I wouldn't discount his awareness of debt also coming from a quasi-maternal figure like Yu Ziyuan. Now there is a woman aware of debt, what she owes and what is owed to her.

Everyone is shaped by the adult figures in their life, and we inherit many things from them, such as traumas, perspectives and traits.

I posit Wei Wuxian is no different. But, just like Wei Wuxian, we aren't defined by our parental figures.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[imsobadatnicknames2]

After reading a few of the notes I have a surprising amount of Thoughts here so I'm going to make my best attempt at organizing them here instead of arguing with people directly lol.

On the one hand, a lot of people going off about how "this is why we're in the middle of a media literacy crisis" etc. and idk it all sounds to me like "Society is doomed: This one guy said something stupid online". Like you should be extremely skeptical of any narrative that tells you that a handful of people online having extremely bad opinions is evidence (or even THE CAUSE) of any form of widespread societal decay, and it's a very easy trap to fall into if it happens to play into your confirmation bias unfortunately. Also I don't really think we're in a "media literacy crisis". There have always been A LOT of people who engage with media like this, you are just more aware of them now because of social media. There is no media literacy golden age we're falling from grace from.

On the Other hand. A lot of people talking about how there's actually no problem here because you can read however you want and it's okay to skip paragraphs and skim and skip ahead and read out of order, and that thinking otherwise is ableist because a lot of ND people have trouble with big walls of text etc.

And this one comes off to me like something that's like. Technically true on principle but being brought up extremely disingenuously. Like yeah it's your right as a reader to read however you want, but. There's a pretty big difference between "I had to skip this paragraph because the prose wasn't grabbing me/playing nice with my ADHD but I didn't want to stop the book there" and "I skip long/slow paragraphs on principle"

For me it's the same thing as the people who keep bringing up D&D "rule zero". Like yeah it's your right as a player to ignore the rules when you think doing so would benefit the experience, you're not harming anybody, no one has the right to tell you to stop doing it. But if you find yourself constantly doing it, at some point it kinda just exposes a fundamental disconnect between the experience you want from a game and the game you're actually playing, and you should consider if you wouldn't be better served playing a different game or just doing a different activity entirely.

Similarly, as a reader you have the right to read your books however you want. Skip ahead, read out of order, do whatever. It's your time, you decide how to spend it. But if you find yourself constantly skipping paragraphs, or reading just the dialogue, or feeling bored out of your mind when a chapter is more than 30 minutes of reading, that is a pretty clear sign that what you're reading just isn't clicking with you, and you should just drop that book and consider if you wouldn't be better served by reading a different book, or a different author, or a different genre. Or, if it's like that with EVERY book, you should just consider if you wouldn't be better served by reading something different like poetry or screenplays or graphic novels or just doing an entirely different hobby.

Also another thing I find disingenuous about the people saying there's nothing wrong with this and OP is based as hell actually is that like. She calls herself a book critic and her whole shtick is doing book recommendations and shit. Idk if I saw a self-professed music critic who talks about how they've made a habit out of always skipping songs that are over 3 minutes long, or how when it's a slow song they just skip to the chorus I'd say they're probably not doing very good music criticism and they have no business recommending music to anyone.

Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[clownowo]

been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading

[notbrucewayne48]

"aphobia doesn't exist"

bitch literally not that long ago an aroace youtuber animator was insulted by almost half of its community for being it

[relentless7171]

I enjoy resting on both his lap and shoulder

hoodies

netflix

denim jackets

there's too many things to choose from I just love boys

I don't drink tea

I don't really drink coffee either but I'd have a coffee with a lot of milk

auburn

I can't drive yet but I do want to get my licence

I have a massive crush on my boyfriend @geggorys

I don't really watch any sports but I think stuff like the women's world cup deserves more respect

I think I'm more of a neutral colour guy idm neon and pastel it's just rare for me to wear clothes of those colours

i don't wear make up but I would like to learn how to use make up and having my bf do my make up sounds fun and I'm sure he'd enjoy it

idm what height boys are I myself am 5'11 and my bf is a little shorter than me and I love him but he's grown a little recently and I like the added height too

I like both but I usually do nose kisses

my bfs scent is my favourite I'd bottle it up and spray it in me if I could

I'd go on any type of date tbh we've gone on a bunch and I just enjoy spending time with him regardless of the activity and environment

a cabin getaway

I haven't seen maybe butni find bros to be quite silly and I keep meaning to watch broke back mountain

I do believe in love at first sight

I am in love with my bf and was for years before we started dating I just didn't realise 💀

I like both I enjoy having him in my lap and wrapping around him but I also love being in his lap and feeling cosy (I usually end up asleep)

I'd love both types of bracelets and have some loom bands ones on rn but I think metal is more ideal bc I'd end up breaking cloth ones 😭

him saving I love you for the first time is one of my favourite memories and him asking me put but really I cherish ever memory I have of him

I think i tilt my head to the right

I'd love to take his last name and we've already agreed on it

I don't really want kids and neither does he but if he ever said to me he wanted a kid I'd be open to the idea

we do interlock fingers sometimes but tend not to unless we are sitting down and it can get a bit hard to with us both wearing multiple rings

idk, any compliment I get from him makes me happy he could say anything and I'd be giggling and kicking my feet

I yearn to fall asleep with him next to me.and to wake up next to him would be amazing

I don't really have any turn offs tbh

he makes me blush it could be any little thing and I can feel myself blushing

coffee shop date we've had a few and It makes me happy seeing him enjoy his drinks

I tend to be big spoon bc I am bigger than him and I love to having him in my arms but when I am little spoon I enjoy it a lot too

just all of him caught my eye I can't really lick one thing out I just love all of him

I'd love flowers but it's not really a viable gift rn but if I ever got flowers I'd do ebrrything to take care of them and make sure he knew how much I enjoyed them

matching outfits sounds cute tbh and he's got a lot of my.cpotjes so we end up unintentionally matching anyway

he asked me out but around that time I was also trying to piece together a way to tell him about my feelings for him he just beat me to it

I love when he's shy bc I can baby him but I also love when he's confident

Harvey by her's is one I listened to a lot whilst thinking about him

mlm asks!

I never see these so I decided to make one lol~

Do you like resting your head in a boys lap, or on his shoulder?

Sweaters or hoodies?

Netflix or clubbing on a Friday night?

Denim or leather jackets?

What’s your favorite thing about boys?

How do you like your tea?

How do you like your coffee?

Favorite fall color?

Can you drive?

Do you have a crush?

What’s your favorite sport?

Are you a pastel, neon, or neutral color mlm?

Do you wear makeup?

Do you like boys taller or shorter than you?

Do you prefer hand kisses, or nose kisses?

What’s your favorite cologne smell?

Ideal date?

What’s more romantic: cabin getaway, or tropical vacation?

What’s your favorite mlm movie?

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Have you ever been in love?

Do you like sitting in a boys lap, or do you prefer when a boy sits in yours?

Metal or cloth bracelets?

What’s one of your favorite memories of being in love?

Do you tilt your head to the left or right when you kiss?

Would you like to take his last name when you marry?

Do you want kids?

Do you interlock fingers when you hold hands?

What’s a compliment you’d love to receive from a boy?

What’s better, waking up to him in the morning, or falling asleep next to him at night?

Any turn offs?

What makes you blush?

Coffee shop or dog park date?

Big spoon or little spoon?

What first catches your eye?

Would you enjoy it if he bought you flowers?

Do you think matching couple outfits are cute or cheesy?

Have you ever asked a boy out?

Which is cuter, him being confident, or shy?

What’s one of your fave love songs?