#at least someone who is still interested and dedicated in what i post

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

[consult-sherlockholmes]

How do people just immediately like a post of mine one singular second after I posted it? Are you lurking on my blog continuously just waiting for a new post to appear? My respect for the swiftness and dedication, but how do you do that? It reminds me of my stalking brother, he also watches every move I do continuously.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + three

authors note: wow! omg, thank you all so much for the kind words of support for this story! it really does mean a lot to me, cause i know the content is pretty heavy.

also, if anyone has read the acotar series, i imagine the dynamic between roman and the twins to be a bit similar to the bat boys. and yes, we'll def see more of the twins moving forward.

in addition, if you want to be tagged, you have to explicitly ask as such. the last thing i want to do is tag someone i thought wanted to be tagged and didn't, and they end up triggered. :(

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, trauma responses (nightmares/night terrors), hints at suicidal thoughts, references to traumatic past

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

words: 9k

Roman doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s out the house again before the sun is even up.

Solana knows all of this because she doesn’t sleep that night.

It’s not for lack of trying. She spends nearly two hours twisting and turning before finally accepting that sleep isn’t in the cards for her. She instead finds herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom, door locked, writing away in her journal. No letter to mom this time, just pure word vomit, all of her thoughts and feelings about everything that’s transpired. 

There’s as many tears as there are words, and like always post–writing, she feels a tad bit better. The best and only release she ever has is in her written word, all of the things she could never say aloud, melted from her head and sealed into paper.

When she’s done writing, Solana opts to read a book in her Kindle Library. Doing so makes her realize that she still doesn’t have her stuff from back home. It’s not that she has a lot, but the items she was told to pack just for the first few nights will only last just that—for a few days.

But, Solana doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask Roman about that. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask him for anything, not after she’s clearly and understandably upset him. She’ll just….she’ll just have to make do until it's noticed she's essentially living out of a suitcase. 

And Solana has a thought, an idea, that getting up early to fix him breakfast could be a good thing, something to tame his anger toward her. It’s the least that she can do.

But one look around Roman’s massive kitchen indicates he’s every bit the stereotypical bachelor. There’s only a couple of ingredients, not enough of anything to make an actual meal. There’s also a lot of “meal prep” meals, which makes sense. She can imagine he’s insanely strict with his diet and fitness. One can’t look like Roman Reigns without an intense amount of focus and dedication.

It makes her wonder just what kind of dietary restrictions and preferences she’ll have to learn about him to make meals that he can actually consume. Another question she needs to ask but doesn’t know how or when considering he already has very little to no interest in having anything to do with her.

It’s another thing she knows she’ll have to figure out but tries her best to focus on anything else besides the fact that she’s now married to a man who can’t stand her, the same man her family wants her to somehow assassinate.

Yes…..other things is a much better seat filler.

Solana briefly wonders how she’s going to get to work considering her car is still back at her dad’s house, but just when she’s considering calling an Uber, she’s met in the living room of Roman’s massive estate by none other than his right hand man and cousin.

Solo Sikoa 

All he says is, “ready?” And she realizes that this is how she’s to get to work, that he is to escort her. Him and another set of large men, guards as she realizes. A separate set of guards, not the ones who roam and patrol Roman’s mansion. 

Being around so many men….it’s a different kind of experience. Leaning more on the side of uncomfortable than anything. 

But, she’s at least a bit more at ease when Solo only opens the door to the back of the SUV and doesn’t join in, instead sitting in the passenger seat.

She's grateful for that.

Solo is almost the same exact person as his cousin. Large, strong, stoic and scary as hell. The only difference is that she’s not sure Solo is capable of sentences that include more than 1 to 3 words.

It’s obvious he’s not thrilled about being assigned as her personal guard, and she can’t blame him. There can’t be anything exciting about watching her boring life and making sure nothing happens to her during said boring life.

But Solana can’t deny there’s a small part of her that feels a small sense of comfort at having someone to look out for her. Even if she partially questions his loyalty to said job. Something happening to her wouldn’t do anything to anybody. At all. 

She’d just….cease to exist.

And lately….that hasn’t seemed like the worst thing ever. 

But, it’s when she arrives at work, goes into her office to start to prepare for the work day only to find her brother already waiting that that comfort is obliterated.

“Sis.” Wes' smile is tight and inauthentic, his eyes darting between her and Solo. “Sorry to scare you. I was just hoping we could talk.”

Talk….

Wes never wants to talk to her, not unless it’s him berating and screaming while he beats the shit out of her. 

“Alone.” He gives Solo a faux sympathetic expression. “Family things….you understand, I’m sure.”

Solana doesn’t know if Solo understands or he doesn’t, but she does know that Wes' kind and friendly tone is all smoke and mirrors. She knows he’s pissed that he didn’t catch her off-guard, didn’t catch her alone, that he couldn’t corner her like he always does.

And for a second, Solana believes she’s safe, knows that Solo won’t let Wes lay a hand on her. It’s….it’s his job to keep her safe, right?

But just as that hope is present, it’s extinguished by the reality she knows is inescapable. Solo won’t be with her 24/7. She won’t be protected forever. She’ll eventually be around both Wes and her father alone. And the price she’ll have to pay for denying him in this moment….

It’s not worth it. 

Roman’s words to her father about not touching her are nice in theory, but she knows better. Xavier Miller does what he wants, regardless of what’s said and by who.

“O–of course,” Solana mumbles, fingers dancing at the side of her pants. She turns to Solo. “Please….give us a few minutes.”

For the first time since she’s met him, Solo actually shows some type of emotion. It still stems from anger, maybe a branch of irritation, but it's still something different. “Tribal Chief said I’m supposed to watch you, so that’s what I do.”

She swallows. This is going to require a level of assertiveness that’s almost foreign if not non-existent. “I–I understand, but….Wes is my brother. He—” It’s almost impossible for her to even get the words out. “He would never hurt me.”

Solana almost immediately wants to vomit. That’s all this man has ever done. 

At least since the murder of their mother. 

Solo is struggling but wavering, she can see as much, so she continues. “It’s okay,” she assures, even mustering up a small smile. “Please….just a couple minutes. I won’t—I won’t say anything to Roman.”

Solo still looks torn but eventually agrees, leaving her alone with one of two men who hate her most on this earth. 

The door is barely closed when Wes has her pinned against the wall, hand slapped over her mouth, a knife pressed to the base of her throat.

“You stupid bitch, don’t think for one second that being married to Reigns changes shit,” he snarls. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He just doesn’t like people messing with his possessions.”

Solana knows all of this, knows that anything Roman may do that seems to be for her benefit is just him asserting his dominance. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this. 

“Wes, you’re hurting me.” She suddenly feels so stupid saying that, telling him what he already knows. Of course, he is. That’s the whole point. Still, she stupidly believes she can plead to whatever humanity is left in him. If any. “P–please.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving her head against the wall. Solana winces quietly, mindful of Solo who stands outside the door because of her. Because she told him to, because she welcomed this violence onto herself.

“Reigns told dad you won’t be available for a couple weeks, so I suggest you start doing what you need to do to change that. We need to be able to communicate with you.”

This startles her. Why would Roman say that? Did Roman say that? Wes is a master manipulator, and she doesn’t put it past him to be playing mind games.

“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” And it’s true. Solana has no idea what to do in any of this, how she’s supposed to kill a man who’s more or less impossible to kill, how she’s supposed to win his favor when it’s obvious she already annoys him. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming.

“Did you fuck him last night?”

It’s a question she hoped no one would ask, didn’t believe would be asked because there’s no one who would care enough except for Roman himself.

And while Solana knows being dishonest with her brother won’t turn out well, in this moment, she doesn’t know how he’ll respond if she tells the truth.

So, she lies. She lies to live to see another day, for what reason, she doesn't know. It’s not as if any other day will provide her some sense of solace or security. But, it’s just what she does. 

“Y–yes.”

Wes looks understandably pleased. “Good.” She gaps in fear when he drags his knife against her skin, gently trailing it across, just light enough to avoid drawing blood. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for us for anyway.”

A frown falls upon her face. What….what does that mean?

“Just keep contact open, you understand?” No, she doesn’t, but she has no choice but to pretend that she does. Nodding, Wes shoves her into the wall one more time at an angle that causes her shoulder to take the impact. Wincing, she holds onto it as he releases her and walks out the door. “Don’t fuck this up, Solana.”

Easier said than done. Much easier said than done. 

It’s when he leaves her alone that the tears pool in her eyes. But, it’s when Solo walks in, studying her that she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “I–I’m fine.”

She’s not.

She’s far from fine. 

————

The day ends up slightly, maybe even moderately, improving. It’s to be slightly expected though as it’s Monday, the day that Solana runs her reading club with the younger kids. It’s always a highlight to see their bright, smiling faces, answering all of their fifty million questions.

It’s a break from a very bleak reality that is her life, immersing herself in their world of pretend and minimal worries.

Sometimes, she finds herself a bit jealous. Jealous that they still have their innocence, that their view of the world hasn’t been painted in red and blood like hers.

But, it’s when Solana is in the back taking her break, journaling, that that improvement takes a deep dive. Because a single knock on the door is followed by the large intimidating frame of her husband entering her space. 

Naturally, her stomach knots. She hasn’t seen Roman since last night, since he helped and scolded her in the same brief timespan. She understands it though and doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.

She’s far from the perfect picture of mental stability. 

Swallowing, Solana stands up and opens her mouth to address him when his eyes go from her face to her wrist. Following his line of vision, she sees why. There’s a blueish/greenish obvious bruise starting to form, beyond that initial point of formation really. It's just a straight up, fully developed bruise.

Roman slowly walks over to her and reaches for her arm. Solana naturally tenses. He hesitates for a second but still takes her wrist, lifting it so that it's at her eye level but still close enough for him to assess. 

She closes her eyes and acts quickly to think of an excuse. “I—umm—”

“Who?”

His voice is quieter than she anticipated and as much as she wishes she doesn't know what he means, Solana knows exactly what he’s asking. She just doesn’t answer. 

“I’m only going to ask you this one time and one time only.” His brown eyes are burning into her as he perfectly enunciates each word. “Who fucking touched you?”

Solana winces at his tone but eventually answers. “Wes....”

Roman drops her hand, and Solana brings her arms to her chest, head dropped. 

He’s pissed. 

That seems to be the only emotion he experiences around her, because of her.

His nostrils are flared as he demands. “Where was Solo?” 

Making him wait for a response is clearly something that sets him off even more, so Solana does her best to answer in a timely manner. “I—I asked him to leave. Wes….Wes didn’t want him in the room.”

“Of course, he fucking didn’t. Why would you—” Roman pinches his nose. A day. It’s been less than 48 hours, only a day in, and this marriage shit already has him fucking stressed out. Being married to this damn girl is like having a fucking child to look after. “From now on, I don’t give a fuck what your idiot brother and poor excuse of a father tell you, you’re not to be alone with them.” Roman’s command is a lot easier said than done. Denying her father or brother has never done her any favors. Solana isn’t sure how to verbalize this to the man in front of her who’s already six different shades of annoyed. “I thought I made that clear to them at the wedding, but obviously, they need a reminder.”

Solana feels every bit the scolded child, murmuring a quiet, “I’m sorry…”

Roman looks at her, and for a slither of a second, maybe even less than that, he feels bad for her. Feels bad because it’s clearly not her fault that she’s so fucked up. With a dad and brother like Xavier and Wes, what chance did she have?

He then briefly wonders about her mother, wonders what the dynamic was like there. But that’s a short lived trail because his mind then goes to his own mother. 

And Roman can’t have that, can’t go down that road for a variety of reasons, reasons that may not be that different from Solana’s. 

“Send me your work schedule.” Redirection is always a good strategy. That and fucking. Obviously, only one is an option for the woman in front of him. 

Panic builds in Solana’s stomach. Why does he want that? Her mind starts to race, arriving at only negative conclusions. Does he want her to quit? That thought kills her. 

Working at the library is the highlight, the only highlight, of her days. She doesn’t know what she would do without that outlet. 

“It won’t get in the way of my duties to you.” Solana typically isn’t the one to advocate for herself. Ever. But this….she can’t lose this, and it scares her to think of what mental decline could happen if she does. Nothing good. That’s for certain. “I—I can get up early and–and make your breakfast and meal prep lunch. A–and I’ll make sure your dinner is ready too by the time you come home—”

Rubbing his temple, exasperated, Roman asks, “what are you talking about?”

She’s not above begging. In a pleading tone, she begs, “please don’t make me quit my job.”

Roman isn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that the most words he’s heard leave Solana’s mouth are practically her begging to keep her job. He can understand it though. He would bet that her only time away from her family was when she was at work. “You can work as little or as much as you want. I don’t care about that.”

His words create instant relief. “Oh–I’m sorry, I thought—”

Roman runs his hand over his face. “You don’t have to apologize for everything.”

“Sor—” Solana drops her head as he exhales. Loudly. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over and done with this damn day.

“What time do you get off today?”

Solana licks her lips, answering. “Three.”

“I’ll meet you then.”

He can see she wants to ask but has decided against it, most likely recognizing his irritation. “We need to get your stuff from that house.” 

And in the midst of her anxiety in this conversation, she finds a glimmer of hope. She’s thankful that this isn’t something she had to initiate to ask him about.  

Something tells her Roman doesn’t like being questioned a lot.

Or at all.

“O–okay.” Is the answer she finally settles on, not wanting to say too much, vowing, “I’ll make sure I’m done by 3pm sharp.”

On one hand, Roman enjoys and respects punctuality, but something tells him Solana’s is based more on fear than anything. “Whenever is fine.”

Nodding and pushing her hair behind her ear, Solana watches Roman walk over to the door, preparing to leave when he asks, “is your brother right handed or left handed?”

His question takes her off guard, and she doesn’t quite know why he’s asking this in the first place. “W-what?”

Roman clearly doesn’t like repeating himself, because his tone takes on an edge. “Is he right handed or left handed?”

Solana swallows. She’s made him mad. Again. “R–right.”

Without another question, he leaves. And once the door shuts, he snaps at Solo, demanding, “why the fuck did you leave her alone with him? I told you to watch her!”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that Solo is doing a brilliant job masking his embarrassment at his failure. “She said—”

“I don’t care what she says. You don’t answer to her. You answer to me. Understood?”

Solo keeps his head high, acknowledging, “yes, my Tribal Chief.” Roman wastes no time in exiting the library and entering the SUV waiting for him, slamming the door shut. He pulls out his phone, selecting one of his most recent contacts, hitting dial. 

Jey answers on the third ring, but he’s immediately yelling to someone else, “slam my door one more fucking time, Nicki, and see what happens!” Roman’s jaw clenches, another new source of irritation being presented to him. “Ayo, Uce, now’s not a good time—”

“I don’t care.” Roman’s hot headed cousin and his equally hot headed wife arguing is nothing special. The fight. They fuck. They make up. And do it all over again. It’s not pressing news or even news at all at this point. “The Miller boy. Send him a message. A clear message.”

“I’ve got—”

“Did you hear what I just said?” There must be something in the air or the water, because Roman having to repeat himself is fucking asinine. He speaks once, and everyone should jump immediately. The fact that that isn’t happening is only pissing him off more. “And his right hand…make sure it’s broken.”

Jey sighs on the other end of the phone. “Aight. Me and Jimmy will have it done by the end of the day.”

Roman ends the phone call before his cousin can feed him any more excuses. Head tilted back against the headrest, he tries to settle himself. This day so far has been nothing but inconvenience after inconvenience. 

There’s nothing that pisses him off more than having to repeat himself, having conversations extend longer than they should, and that’s all this day has been thus far. He’s had to over explain and reiterate himself more than Roman feels necessary. 

And the day isn’t even halfway over. 

He needs an outlet.

Roman switches apps, finding one of his more recent contacts and sending out a message. 

Roman: Come over tonight. 

As expected, her reply comes almost right away. 

Samantha: Lol. That didn’t take long.

Samantha: See you then.

————

Solana always struggles with a level of anxiety when entering the home she grew up in. For a myriad of reasons. Most, if not all, being completely valid. Nothing good has ever happened for her in that place. And more often than not, she’d barely be in the house for more than a couple of minutes before she was either being berated or beaten.

Usually both.

But this…..this is different. A lot different, because she’s not walking into hell alone, she’s walking along (behind) Bloodline guards and the 6’3, pure muscled leader of said Bloodline. 

Roman Reigns.

Who also happens to be her husband.

Playing around with the wedding ring on her finger, Solana tries again to remind herself that this is real, that she’s married, that she’s married to Roman Reigns of all people. 

The reality definitely hasn’t set in.

Roman is about to knock on the door again when it swings open. Solana naturally steps back, something Roman takes notice of.

Xavier looks pissed, his fiery gaze landing on her first, but just as quickly as it was present, it's gone, settling into an almost pleasant smile. Directed at Roman, of course.

“Tribal Chief,” he greets. Solana’s gaze is on the ground now, focused on her painted toes instead of the man before her who she’s certain would be unleashing hell on her if not for the multitude of much larger, much stronger men surrounding her. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“I don’t care,” Roman interrupts, voice reeking of indifference. “She needs to go get her stuff.”

“Oh.” Solana can only imagine the difficulty her father is having in not throwing a fit. “Well, we can arrange for it to be delivered—”

“No.”

She means more to think it than to say it, but that intention falls short, because she definitely says it aloud.

And most of her regrets it, but there’s a small slither that doesn’t.

Solana knows her father. She knows him very well. 

Roman has done nothing but piss him off from the very beginning of this whole ordeal, pushing and pushing him. And Solana has always been the object of her father’s anger, but Roman seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen. 

That means he’ll have to get creative with his punishments.

If he can’t hurt her, he’ll go after the things she loves. 

The few items in that home that she holds near and dear, items that belonged to her mother.

She knows he would dispose of them all so that all that would be retrieved by the movers would be clothes.

And the thought of the only things she has of her mother being discarded like trash makes her sick to her stomach.

She can’t give him that opportunity. 

Looking up, she’s met with two sets of eyes on her. One indicating irritation and the other, curiosity. Swallowing, she stutters, “I’m sorry. I—”

“No.” Roman’s interruption is stark and to the point. “We’re already here. She gets it now.”

“But—”

“Move.”

Xavier’s jaw ticks, but he does as such, stepping to the side. Roman looks back at Solana, motioning for her to walk in. 

Instantly, she’s going to the key holder. She has to make sure she gets her mother’s stuff before anything. But, the key to the attic, the key that’s sat in the same spot since she was a girl, is suddenly missing.

Her stomach drops. 

Without hesitation, she turns to her dad, asking, “wh—where’s the key to the attic?”

Solana knows before he even says anything that she’s not going to like his answer. She just doesn't realize just how much she’s not going to like his answer.

“Oh, I put it in your old room on the dresser.” Solana’s chest is immediately tight, her stomach dropping. Xavier gives that sly smile and little shrug. “Figured there’d be some things you’d want to grab as well.”

It’s hard for Solana to not start crying right then and there, standing between her father and her husband. Two men who dislike her for very different reasons. 

And maybe dislike isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling her father has toward her. Because one has to have an inhuman level of vitriol toward another individual to put her in the situation he just did.

That room….Solana hasn’t been in that room in years and planned to never enter it again for as long as she lived. And he knows that. Knows that there’s nothing in there she wants. Knows that she’d rather walk on burning coal barefoot than enter that space of horrific memories and unspeakable horrors. 

“I–I—”

“Is something wrong?”

Roman, watching this whole exchange closely, is instantly annoyed. It’s obvious something is wrong, there’s some story with this old room of hers, because she looks just as terrified as she did last night. And something about this pisses him off all over again, because this man is still trying to defy his orders, still trying to find ways to inflict his torture without lifting a finger. 

“Where’s the room?” 

Solana doesn't expect that question to leave Roman’s mouth, but it instantly brings on another layer of dread. He doesn’t know why she can’t go in that room, and he can never know, but that not knowing is probably going to result in him pushing her to hurry up so they can get the hell out of here.

But, that doesn’t happen. He steps towards her dad and repeats in a calm voice. “Show me.” It’s then she realizes that he’s asking so he can retrieve this key for her.

And that confuses the mess out of her because why? He doesn't have to, doesn’t need to. It doesn’t benefit him in the slightest. 

So why?

But for Roman, it’s simple. He’ll take any opportunity presented to piss off this son of a bitch, and undermining every attempt Miller takes to mess with Solana presents an opportunity for Roman to assert his dominance. 

And it’s obvious by the pure terror that crosses Solana’s face that, for whatever reason, she has zero desire or even ability to enter this room. It does cross him a bit strange that she would have such a reaction to her childhood bedroom, something that typically holds special memories for people.

Until he enters said room. 

Immediately, there’s a darkness about the aura, something heavy and unsettling that he can’t necessarily describe but most definitely feels. It’s a stark contrast to the design and decoration, lots of pink and girly shit, a couple of stuffed animals sitting on the top of the dresser. It’s on the dresser he notices a shattered picture frame that in picking up he sees a photo of a young woman, dark curly hair, beautiful, light eyes and a breathtaking smile. There’s something about her that reminds him of Solana. Her mother. This has to be her mother.

For reasons Roman doesn’t quite understand, there’s something suddenly uncomfortable by looking at this photo, a ghost, someone from the past. A person cruelly and violently ripped away from her family.

It….it hits too close to him.

Laying the broken photo frame down, Roman continues to assess the room and suddenly notices scratches on the door and the wall that holds the door. But, they’re not scratches that come from furniture being moved or kids being rough, they’re clearly nail marks. As if someone was dragged and the scratches a testament of their fight against whatever attack they were facing.

Snatching the key off the dresser, he then redirects his attention to the poorly cleaned splashes of dried blood on the carpet near the bed. He’s suddenly frowning of sorts. 

There’s a story here. A story that paints a dark, grim picture. One that makes Roman slightly curious about just what the hell this girl has really been through in this hellhole?

Not wanting to stay in that creepy ass room any longer than necessary, he walks back out into the living room and ignores Miller’s obvious irritation to reach Solana the key.

Accepting it, she offers the first smile he’s probably seen on her since their first meeting. “Thank you.” Her voice is the usual mixture of soft and quiet but also….grateful. She’s probably the only person in history to ever be so happy at being given something as simple as a key. But Roman isn’t stupid. He recognizes the deeper meaning. 

Nodding, he motions for a few of his men to follow her as she heads for wherever the attic door is located. 

That leaves Roman alone with his least favorite person in the world.

“She can’t take everything, you know.” Xavier shares. He reminds, “she has a brother. My son and I deserve to have something of my late wife to—”

“I don’t care.” And he doesn’t. He honestly, truly doesn’t. “She can take whatever she wants.”

“I understand that she’s your wife, but she was my daughter long before she became your wife. And you’re standing in my house.” Xavier doesn’t skip a beat to contend. “I think you should also remember that, Tribal Chief.”

To be fair, Roman would like to think he’s done a half decent job all day managing his temper. He’s yet to maim or kill anyone which is commendable for him, in and of itself. But something about Xavier pisses him the fuck off to the point where he doesn’t give a damn about controlling his temper. 

And that’s exactly what happens. 

In a matter of seconds, Roman has Xavier by the throat, pinned against the wall, squeezing so tightly he can practically feel the man's bones pressing against his fingertips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Xavier’s eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as he helplessly grasps at Roman's grip, which only makes the Tribal Chief squeeze harder. “Don’t ever fucking forget who runs this. I run it all!” As much as Roman enjoys playing the long game with this bastard, there’s only so much he can put up with. Miller needs to know Roman is not his daughter, but he damn sure will dictate that any interactions with said daughter go through him. “You see Solana when I say you can see her. You talk to her when I say you can talk to her.” Intensifying his grip, Roman notices the color draining from Xavier’s face. And it’s probably the best thing he’s seen all day. “You live because I allow it. You’re still fucking breathing because I will it.” Recognizing Miller is at the door of unconsciousness, he finally lets the man go, enjoying the sight of him coughing violently, nearly laying on the floor. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that shit.”

Xavier, wisely, doesn't say much after that. And neither does Roman, who simply makes sure his men help Solana gather all she needs, which isn’t that much outside of clothes. He starts to ask her about her car, but something tells him it’s under Xavier’s name, which is why he decides against it.

He’ll just get her another one. 

Roman doesn’t want her to have shit to do with this family, largely because he doesn’t want shit to do with this family.

And he knows what the first step toward initiating that separation will be.

—--------

The Warehouse has always been Roman’s escape.

17,000 square feet of escape, completely revamped and redone by him in his early twenties. It’s a massive compound that serves as both a place to train and compete. The former of which being why he’s present and needing to speak to the one person who he has in charge of all the day to day workings of the Warehouse. 

But, that’s all she’s interested in outside of competing herself and only training those with some fire to them.

It’s why he’s not surprised when Nia takes one look at him, then Solana, and with a snort and roll of her eyes, simply says, “no.”

Roman isn’t an idiot. He knew his cousin would immediately decline, would know what he wanted to ask before it could even leave his mouth.

If only he cared about her objection. 

“Wait here,” he mutters to Solana who only nods, hugging the jacket around her body. Solo remains nearly inches away from her. She looks so out of place, a small part of him can’t blame Nia for declining.

Nia continues to walk the balcony, eyes clearly checking in on the various sets of people training. Roman does as well, just not nearly with the same amount of focus and attention. That’s what he has Nia for.

His blood cousin and close friend since they were kids, there’s few people in this world that Roman trusts, and Nia is grouped in that category. She’s a worthy member of the bloodline and a hell of a person to have alongside you in a fight. 

It’s why she's the perfect person for this task.

“Nia.”

“I said no, Roman.” She turns to him, smirking, taunting him in a way only she and his close family can. "You know, that word that you hate?”

It actually makes him chuckle, a speckle of amusement in a day full of anything but. “If you know I hate it, why are you saying it?”

“Because unlike the rest of the world, I’m not your bitch.”

It’s partially true. Nia has never been one to shy away from being completely and, often, ruthlessly honest with her cousin. It’s something Roman sometimes appreciates, enjoying the occasional challenge and differing perspective.

This isn’t one of those times though. 

He again reiterates. “She needs to be trained.” 

It’s abundantly clear that Solana has no backbone, and he can’t entirely fault her for that because it’s also clear that she’s never really had the chance to develop one. But, that’s no longer the case, because while he can deal with the stammering and quietness, her fragility has to go. 

She has to learn to stand up for herself.

She needs to learn how to fight back.

Nia turns around with a sarcastic chuckle. “You really think that girl can be trained? I saw her at the wedding. She looked terrified the entire time. You breathe too hard in her direction, and she’ll probably have a fucking panic attack.” Roman is briefly taken back to last night. Nia hasn’t the slightest clue how true her words are. “She’s not built for this life.”

Roman doesn’t entirely disagree. If there was ever a person who’d do well and significantly better in something cookie cutter, white picket fence type shit, it’s Solana. But she’s here now, this is her life, so they need to make the best of it. She needs to learn how to survive in this life. and he expresses as such. “Regardless, she needs to learn to defend herself to some extent.”

Nia shrugs, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So teach her.”

“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.” It’s almost entirely true. There are already so many hats that Roman has to wear. Adding on another one that includes teaching a traumatized young woman how to fight is not an option. Even more, something tells him that Solana would do better training with a woman. She seems most skittish around men.

Nia scoffs, pointing to herself. “And you think I do?”

“Nia….” As much as he enjoys sparring with his cousin from time to time, his patience has grown thin. His tone darkens. “I’m not asking you.”

While tempted to continue to push back, Nia isn’t a stupid woman. She can recognize when Roman is about to lose his cool. “Fucking hell….” With a heavy sigh and shrug of defeat, she accepts. “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to like her.”

“I never expect you to like anyone.” He chuckles, adding. “And Nia…..take it easy on her at first.”

Nia curses, instantly accusing, “You think coddling her will help?”

“I know being too rough with her won’t.”

A hard exterior is built from experience and tolerance. Roman fully believes that. However, something tells him his new wife has had enough experiences that anything more could push her closer to breaking point. So approaching it almost gingerly would probably wield the best outcome. 

Nia is, justifiably, vexed. “Whatever. I don’t have time for your weak ass wife. I’ll have Naomi teach her the basics, and once she learns how to actually throw a punch without crying, I’ll take over her training.” 

Roman has no issue with this. Solana seemed to be fine around Naomi at the wedding, so it might actually be a good match. “Fine. Just keep me updated with her progress.” Roman adds, starting to walk away.

“Do I have a choice?”

Instantly, he answers. “Nope.”

Nia’s laughter behind him brings a small smile to his face. 

Rejoining the group, he finds Solana looking just as nervous as he left her. “Let’s go.”

He turns and so does Solo, Roman deciding he’ll talk with Solana about starting training back at the house. But, her small voice calling his name, the first time he’s heard her say as such draws his attention.

Turning around, he asks, “yeah?”

She swallows and starts that damn stammering. It’s hard for him to not snap at her to just get it out. He hates that beating around the bush bullshit. “Umm, can we—uhh, stop somewhere?” Roman does his best to hide his irritation. Where the fuck does she need to go? “I just—-I noticed you don’t have a lot of ingredients at the house, and—and I need some things so I can cook.”

Initially, Roman’s first reaction is to tell her no, that she doesn’t need to cook. He doesn’t need her to cook for him. He does just fine on his own, but that’s the thing that makes him pause. He’s not on his own anymore. She needs to eat too.

So, he agrees, “fine.”

“Ayo, uce!”

Jesus Christ.

Roman needs a vacation. A week long vacation, because the way the past 24hrs has drained him more than anything he’s experienced in the past year is criminal.

The twins jog over, exchanging what is an undeniably awkward acknowledgement to Solana. And he doesn't blame them. She’s so damn docile that they probably don't know how to interact with her.

“Let us catch that ride with you.”

Roman shuts his eyes. “Why?”

Jimmy is the one to answer. “You wanted us to debrief you on that thing from earlier, remember?”

Roman realizes they’re referring to the message he had them send Solana’s brother, which he does want to hear about but not necessarily now.

“She needs to stop at the store before we head back to the house,” Roman informs, hoping the twins will just take a car back to the house to meet him their to debrief.

But that’s too much like right, because they end up in the same SUV as him and Solana, seated in the back, while he sits in the middle with her. And it’s not missed upon him how she’s practically tucked in the corner of the SUV, notebook out as she writes away while his idiotic cousins go on and on in the back about whatever.

The old lady from the library wasn’t kidding. This damn girl is always writing. 

When they arrive at the grocery store, Roman reaches for his wallet, sliding out his black card and handing it to her. “Here. Use this.” 

Roman hadn’t thought about this until just now, thought about the need to make his money available to her. He makes a mental note to have his accountant add Solana to all of his accounts and have cards mailed out with her name. In the meantime, she’ll have to deal with using his.

“Thank you.” She accepts the card, quickly asking, “what’s my limit?”

“What limit?”

Her cheeks redden as she explains. “Like….like how much I can spend?"

“There is none,” he answers with a shrug. “Just get what you need.”

Jey suddenly leans forward, tapping Roman on the shoulder. “Ayo, Big Dog, lemme run this by you.”

“No.”

Of course, the word goes in one ear and out the other. “So, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s not what she thinks. I don’t even care about that bitch, but she’s not trying to hear me. Going on and go about how I ain’t shit, I don’t treat her right—you know, the usual—-and so finally, I just snap on her ass cause who the fuck you think you talking to—”

Jimmy agrees. “She acting like you ain’t got no options.”

Jey sucks his teeth, “man, that’s what I’m saying. Like, I ain’t gotta put up with that shit!”

“Hell naw!”

The idea of grocery shopping doesn’t appeal to Roman in the slightest, but neither does listening to his dumbass cousin complain about his marriage problems to his equally dumbass brother. So, it’s the lesser of two evils, really. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening the door. Solo and Solana’s eyes fall on him as they’d yet to enter the store. “I’ll go with her.”

Solana looks expectedly surprised as Solo simply nods and gets back in the passenger seat.

“I’ll make it quick.”

Roman says nothing, walking alongside her, still providing enough distance to not make her uncomfortable. 

As long as the twins are harping on and on about stupid shit, she can take as long as she wants.

Once in the store, Solana pushing the cart, Roman realizes she was writing down a grocery list that she uses to track the needed items as they peruse what feels like endless aisles. Granted, he hasn’t been inside an actual grocery store in probably close to two decades, if not longer, so maybe this is normal for a grocery store. 

It’s when they reach the produce section that she seems a bit stumped, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly perplexed.

He starts to ask her what’s wrong, but she walks over to one of the workers and takes him slightly by surprise when she starts speaking in a different language. Spanish, he eventually settles on. It’s also the first time he thinks he’s ever seen her smile. Outside of when he gave her the key And laugh. That one is definitely a first. Both small and quiet, but still, a first. She seems to know or at least be familiar with the worker who digs around the produce and reaches over a packaged bag of whatever produce it is. 

It’s when she returns to place the produce in the basket, continuing to walk, that he asks, “you speak Spanish?”

She looks up at him, but not for too long, as if doing so is forbidden, explaining. “My—my mom taught me. She was originally from Mexico.”

Roman figured as such from the picture he saw in her room that Solana’s mom was Hispanic or had some type of Central American ancestry. He’s also surprised by her answering with more than just 3 to 5 words, providing more information than he asked. 

It’s not something he necessarily cares about, but it doesn’t annoy him like it typically does when people give him a longer answer than what’s necessary. 

“Are—are your cousins always like….like that?” Again, she takes him by surprise, up until the point where she immediately goes into apologizing. “I–I don’t mean it in a bad way. I would never—”

“Yes,” he cuts off her rambling. It’s unnecessary because the answer is simple. “They are.” With a mutter, he adds, “they never shut the fuck up.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. That smile smile, this time conjoined with a small laugh that she does a decent job trying to suppress. And it’s like she catches herself, changing the subject as she asks, “umm, are you—like—allergic to anything? Or is there something you don’t like? I can learn—”

“I can eat anything.” It’s a simple, truthful answer. It also seems like something she’d been wanting to ask but only built the courage to do so at the end of their current conversation, even if brief as hell.

Solana doesn’t say much after that, and it confuses Roman when she tries to grab items on shelves much higher than what exceeds her reach. It confuses him because it would be significantly easier for her to just ask him to reach it. Granted, something tells him just her asking to be taken to the grocery store seems to be her daily quota for requests.

So he takes it upon himself, hand on the small of her back, ignoring how she tenses at his touch, to tell her to step aside as he easily retrieves the item. With a tuck of her hair behind her ear and a small “thank you,” she continue shopping but this time actually, still with that same irksome gentleness, asks him to reach items that she cannot. It’s not a lot, just a couple.

And it’s not long before she’s done, checking out with his card that she makes sure to give back to him immediately. He gets the sense that that’s something she thinks is important to him.

It’s not.

The worst he can see her doing is going crazy at fucking Barnes and Nobles.

Roman has his men load the trunk for her, something that also seems to take her off guard. Like she’s not used to the assistance.

And she probably isn’t. 

————

Samantha Irvin has been on Roman’s revolving roster of women since he was in his teens. The longevity being that It’s always been the easiest with her. Sexually, at least. Their compatibility in that one area, the only one he really (only) cares about, is astronomical. But lately, more in the past few months than anything, she’s dropped a comment here and there about wanting more. 

He’s ignored them everytime. 

Roman has never promised Samantha anything more than what they currently are: fuck buddies. She knows this, just like she knows she’s not the only woman he’s fucking. Nothing about that should indicate him wanting more with anyone, including her.

Well, other than the wedding band now on his finger.

Samantha’s gaze falls on that wedding band, a bitter chuckle leaving her mouth. “I still can’t believe you actually did it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. Discussing his shitshow of a marriage is the last thing he wants to do and far from the reason he left Solana in the middle of the night to come see her, to come work off his frustrations.

The same reason he invited her over tonight. 

Last night was a dumpster fuck, without a doubt. But today with Solana was….decent. Not amazing. Not awful. Just some strange space in between. Even as they arrived back at the estate and she went straight into cooking, creating something he can’t pronounce but can honestly say was delicious, a meal she delivered to him in his office. There was something manageable about that, this level of she does her thing, he does his, and if their paths cross in the process, he can deal with that.

The intimacy though….that’s something he’ll have to figure out, have to navigate, just not now. Not tonight. 

Right now, he just needs Samantha’s talented mouth on him.

She moves her hands up his chest, biting on her bottom lip. “She’s just a little girl, baby. You need a woman who knows how to please you.” Roman knows the other side of what she’s saying or rather what she’s not saying. Another subtle, or not so subtle depending on how you look at it, hint that she’s the one he should settle down with.

In all honesty, he has, or had, zero desire to settle down with anyone.

Especially not with Sam. She’s the kind of woman that’s good for fucking and nothing else. As much as Solana’s extreme passivity annoys the shit out of him, he’d pick that over the bitching Sam would do. He just knows she’d be on his ass about stupid shit like fucking other woman and not paying her enough attention. Like she’d think she’s somehow above him doing who and what the fuck he wants just cause he put a ring on her finger.

Way too needy.

But at least he can actually fucking touch Sam.

Kinda hard to make a baby with someone who has literal fucking panic attacks just from being touched.

It builds up his frustration again, hence Roman grabbing Samantha by the back of her head, forcing it back. She hisses, both from pain and pleasure. It’s another thing he does actually enjoy about her. She lets him be as rough as he wants and needs.

“Why are you still talking?” There may be a slight dim in her eyes at his question, but she hides it well. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” He releases his grip and shoves her to her knees. “Put that mouth to actual good use.”

If she’s hurt by his brusque tone, she doesn’t show it, simply bringing her hands to unbuckle his pants. “I got you, daddy…” 

She gets his zipper down when a scream sounds throughout the house, causing her to freeze in her motions as she shoots Roman a confused look.

“What the hell?” Samantha’s obvious irritation is the last thing he hears before adjusting himself as he heads out the room and down the hall.

For some reason, Roman already knows what to expect before he even reaches Solana’s room. Opting against knocking, he opens the door and finds her twisting and turning in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving up and down, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Yeah….just as he expected. 

Sighing, he walks over to the bed, sitting on the side. “Solana.”

“No.....” she’s crying in her sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare. Or night terror. “Mom, please…don’t leave me.”

Roman tenses. Immediately, he knows exactly what her nightmare is. He brings hands to her shoulder, shaking her. “Solana, wake up.”

“No…..”

He says her name again, a bit louder, firmer, “Solana, wake up.”

“No!” She screams again, shooting up from the bed, immediately fighting and pushing against his body. “Leave me alone!” She’s crying, clearly fighting against the demons one faces once in life but forever battles, even when they’re gone. 

It’s a permanent scar on the soul.

“Solana,” he says again, still stern, but somehow gentle. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” It’s the ‘safe’ word that seems to trigger something for her, mouth still ajar, painting heavily but no longer struggling against him. “It was just a bad dream.”

There’s a fleeting thought he has about pushing some of the flyaway hairs out of her face, but it’s gone before he can really process let alone act on said thought.

Solana looks at his hands on her forearm and immediately tugs them back to her body, hugging herself. She drops her head, eyes closing, “I’m—I’m sorry.”

His eyes take her in, studying her, “it’s fine.”

“I—I need some air.” She kicks the blankets off her body and swings her legs over the bed, hurriedly grabbing a notebook off the dresser and rushing out of the room past a smirking Samantha.

Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the strange array of emotions, or something like that, he’s experiencing.

He hasn’t been this exposed to this kind of behavior in years.

This may be more complicated than he realized. 

And it’s as he stands up from the bed, walking near the door that Samantha smirks. “Did she seriously say mom?”  His eyes snap to her as she runs her hands up and down his chest. “What a fucking child.”

Her words take him back, reframe things so that it’s not Solana the child crying for her mother not to be taken from her. It’s a young boy. Burned, bloody, and beat, fading in and out consciousness, the gaze of fiery flames in his peripheral vision, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils, the sound of wails and sirens all mingling together from the shock of it all. 

Roman catches himself, forcing those buried memories back where they belong in the very back of his mind. He then looks at Sam for a good five seconds before demanding, “get the fuck out.”

She pauses and then asks with an uncomfortable laugh, “what?”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he repeats, shoving her hands off him. 

“What did I sa—”

“Get out!” Roman snaps, volume and tone making her jump. He probably scared her. He also doesn’t care. He just wants her gone. And she does as such, walking away without another word of protest. 

Left alone, he tries to gather himself, moving back to his room.

So much for a fucking distraction.

 —----- 

Roman finds her out back on the patio. 

He needed to clear his head, get back into his tunnel vision focus, and the gym he had included when he built the house is the perfect place to do that. Two hours later, recentered and showered, he readies to call it a night. But, he realizes he probably shouldn’t do as such until he makes sure Solana is at least partially stable enough to be left alone. 

And she is. 

She’s laid out, sleeping on the rattan lounge chair, a closed notebook tucked into her side. Roman recognizes it as the same one she was writing in that day at the library as well as the one she used for her grocery list just earlier in the day. 

He settles down on the chair next to her, studying her. Even in her sleep, she looks….sad. And for the first time in the midst of all these strange experiences with her, Roman understands. He understands her sadness, understands her difficulty, understands the memories that clearly haunt her.

The same way they used to haunt him. 

His hand goes to his tatted arm, intricate tribal tattoo hiding permanent remnants of that night of hell. The night that he once had the same kind of night terrors about. 

Noticing the breeze, he walks back into the house, grabbing one of the throw blankets on the sofa. Roman is careful to not directly touch her as he lays it over her body. A part of him is tempted to carry her back to her room, but he remembers these kinds of nights. The kind where it’s a challenge to escape the memories, let alone find a place and mental space to turn your brain off enough to just sleep.

So he leaves her alone, allowing her to enjoy the only escape she clearly has in this life.

[i9messi]

Dating Lando Norris

Specific things I think Lando would do as your boyfriend.

lando's masterlist

At the beginning, he was very very shy around you

He fell the moment he saw you

Lando couldn’t help but fall in love with you

For him, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever met

Not only that, you were someone interesting

He was interested in everything you liked

Your answers were recorded in his brain, as a constant reminder of what you adored

Pays attention to the details

One day you mentioned that there was a restaurant that you always wanted to go, except that you had never been able to go because you need to book at least a year and a half in advance

Just a week later, Lando took you to that same restaurant

It was your first date

"Lando, everything is so beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you are."

He gives golden retriever energy, you know

You fell in love with Lando too fast, I mean, how could you not? He was practically the man you’d always dreamed of

Someone attentive, charismatic and with a dose of sassiness

Sunshine boyfriend

He loved to whisper sassy things in your ear

Things that make you blush

Let's not repeat those things please

Your dates were too diverse, you could go to expensive restaurants or you could also stay at home, with the lights of the candles and show each other how much you loved each other

"I love to spend time with you, the world outside doesn't exist anymore. I'm only interested in you, in everything you do or don't do."

One of your favorite dates had been when after a thunderstorm, you had run out of light

With the sound of the rain, both had been hugging and looking out the window, hearing the drops fall on the glass

"I love you, I'm so in love with you that I can't hide it anymore."

That day was the first time he told you he loved you

You just smiled, kissing him on the lips a second later

The time you told him you loved him too, he was actually trying his best not to freak out. He smiled at you softly as if he didn’t almost explode from all the excitement

One of your favorite places was his chest

You could spend all your day laying on the couch with your head above his chest and listen to him speak with that accent that drove you crazy

Lando could bring any topic and it would be the most interesting thing in the world for you

He is the kind of dedicated boyfriend who loves to spoil you and make you happy

Brings gifts from his trips

"This reminded me of you, you once said you wanted one."

Takes pictures of you on any occasion, doing mundane things

"You look so pretty baby, stay still."

His camera roll was full of pictures of you

As his social media

He loved to post pictures of you in his instagram

He was a proud boyfriend, posting things in every occasion he had

I already mentioned he gives me golden retriever energy???

Well, he always find a way to talk about you

All of his friends and other drivers are annoyed of him talking about you

"My girlfriend likes that too." or "My girlfriend said..." He always finds an opportunity to mention you, no matter if it’s about something as stupidly as the weather or the sun, you’re important to him

He likes to ride in his car with you, holding your hand

He loves to hold your hand, in any occasion

He loves your touch

No, he needs your touch

Sometimes he's a little shy, but he is definitely into PDA

You're his girlfriend and he's not ashamed of admitting his love

He kisses you before races

You're his lucky charm

He loves you A LOT

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lip gallagher x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: if there is one notable trait of lip gallagher other than his over-the-top cockiness and brains, it’s his disdain for all things lovey-dovey. but what happens when someone comes around who turns his world upside down?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1964

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i quickly finished this wip so i could meet my goal of posting at least one fic per month. next month will definitely have more writing but i hope you all enjoy this very late valentine’s day fic

check out my other lip fic, distractions here and my writing here! preview to my new lip fic, stress relief || fic here!

buy me a coffee!

— • —

Lip has never been one for theatrics or romance or anything of the like, and he prides himself on that. He thinks of himself as a simple guy who doesn’t need much charm to get laid.

So why is he standing in line on a cold, bitter morning to buy flowers?

When he met you, Lip had sworn off getting attached or dealing with girls who would be attached. He had dealt with so much drama and crazy exes over the years, and honestly, he was over it.

But, somehow, you had wormed your way into his life, or rather, him into yours. Something about the chase - you not wanting him and him wanting you - made the idea of being with you even more intriguing. Now, he knew no meant no, but after a month or two or three of him pursuing you, you finally obliged.

Unbeknownst to the brunet, your want for him didn’t suddenly start after he chased you. From the beginning, you’d found an interest in him, but unlike the previous girls he’d dabbled with, you weren’t looking for a wham-bam-thank you ma’am situation. 

You weren’t a sap. You loved your rom-coms, but you weren’t looking for Prince Charming to swoop down and rescue you. You certainly could save yourself. So, what were you looking for? You wanted someone who didn’t care about holding your hand but wanted to. You were looking for someone who wanted you for you and not what was in your pants. And that’s why Lip was not the person you had in sight.

You had too many people in your life who wanted you for the wrong things, and though you were strong enough to kick them to the curb, it hurt a little. You watched rom-coms, so of course, you’re a bit sensitive. And you’d be lying if you said those movies didn’t affect what you wanted in a partner.

So when Lip came around, all smirks and cockiness exuded, the only thought that crossed your mind was: “Hot.” Lip might have been hot, but he wasn’t so hot that he clouded your judgment. You’d quickly deduced that your interests were not aligned and didn’t even spare him a second glance.

Okay, that’s a lie. You thought the guy was hot, so saying you only looked once is incorrect. But there’s a difference between looking and fucking, and you certainly were not fucking him.

But sure enough, after getting to know him, you felt your walls crumbling down. Gone were the days when you would ask your coworkers to inform you if he came into the shop so you wouldn’t be unprepared. You liked the unannounced visits. 

You took the whole self-love thing pretty seriously, so before you let someone into your life, who could easily hurt you without hesitation, you wanted them to deserve you. Seeing his dedication made your heart skip a beat faster than you would like. And every time he showed up, you found a smile creeping on your face.

At one point, your manager even asked if you two were dating with how often Lip came around. He was a regular at your job and a constant in your mind.

He always came down to the little shop you worked at, chatting you up until the customers came in. Even then, he’d be staring at you, pulling faces and winking until you would roll your eyes and turn your head to hide your grin.

But despite the numerous butterflies he unleashed upon you, you were still hesitant, and rightfully so. Though Lip had proved himself to be caring, both of you knew that this whole dating and being romantic thing wasn’t him.

So, that’s why, when Ian was thinking about what he should get Mickey for Valentine’s Day, Lip knew what he needed to do. 

The idea was so foreign to him that he felt like a dumbass, but with the number of rom-coms you forced him to watch and how you fawned over the courtship, Lip pushed the discomfort away. After all, you were the only “normal” girl he’d ever been interested in that was interested in him too.

With how fast the news spread in his family, it didn’t take long before everyone asked about you - where you were from, what you were like, why you wanted to be with him, of all people. The last one had lowkey offended him, but he couldn’t disagree. 

You were special. You were the kind of person someone like him rarely came across, and he wasn’t letting you go that easily. Not if he could help, so brave the cold he did.

Lip was blowing hot air on his hands to warm them from the crisp winter air. He debated walking away and picking you some dry flowers from the ground but decided against it when he reminded himself that you deserved better than that.

Just when he thought his joints would lock in place, the line dissipated, the last person escaping the cold with their flowers in hand. Finally, it was his turn, but as he approached the stand, he was immediately overwhelmed by all the different shapes and colors.

His eyes scanned over the entire display as he fidgeted. Lip thought it would be easy to find you a bouquet of flowers, but it was proving to be more difficult than he thought. He racked his brain for any memory of you mentioning flowers you liked, but he came up empty.

“Can’t decide?” The seller asked, a hint of a smile on their face.

Lip laughed shortly, “Yeah, something like that. There are so many fucking flowers.”

“I like to have a variety. You’d be surprised how many people ask for the oddest flowers.” The seller watched Lip’s eyes flit from section to section before offering a reprieve. “What do you have in mind?”

Lip shoved his hands in his pockets, brows pinching together. “Uh, shit, I don’t know. Something purple, maybe?”

“Purple?” They clarified, nodding. “I can work with purple.”

As they readied their supplies, they nodded over to Lip. “Is this your first time? Buying things like this?”

The brunet suddenly felt exposed. “That obvious, huh?” He asked though he was sure his constant shuffling and wide-eyed expression answered his question.

“I’ve been doing this for a while, picked up some people-reading skills. For one, you look like you might throw up.” The scents were making his nose twitch. “And two, you’re nervous as hell. That usually means one of two things: you’re just awkward, which I totally get, or you don’t want to fuck up. I’m going to take a guess and say it’s the latter, right?”

Lip smirked, “Yeah, you got me. I don’t do this whole,” he removed his hands from his pockets to gesture to the wide display of flowers “romantic thing if you couldn’t tell.”

The seller smiled as they delicately placed the flowers together. “Oh, no, I definitely couldn’t tell. So I'll take it that this person is pretty special, huh?”

The brunet nodded, his smirk morphing into a genuine smile, “Yeah. Pretty special, yeah.”

“What’s so special about them?”

He had no idea where to start. There was so much Lip loved about you. “So, this girl, right? She’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and honestly, I don’t know what she sees in me because I can be a piece of shit sometimes. I’ve never really felt obligated to do this for all the other girls I've been with before, but the thing is, with her, I don’t even feel obligated. Like, she’s not forcing me or some shit. I just want to, you know. She knows I’m not into all this sappy bullshit, and I doubt this is the last place she’d expect me to be, but I don’t know, it just feels right.”

Lip had been rambling about you for so long that he hadn’t even noticed that the seller had finished the bouquet and was listening to his words with a smile. “Ah, love is a beautiful thing.”

His eyes widened more than they had when he approached the stand, and the look of shock on the brunet’s face sent the seller into boisterous laughter. Lip’s words came out frantic. “I mean- love is a strong word- I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kid.” The seller handed over the bouquet. “But you talk about someone like that, don’t let them go, ‘kay?”

-

All the way to your apartment, Lip thought over the seller’s words. He didn’t love you. Really, really like you? Sure. Love? No. Absolutely not. He just enjoyed your company, and you made him smile even on his bad days, and you didn’t give him shit whenever something came up with his family and-

Shit. He might actually love you.

He didn’t have long to ponder when the door to your apartment opened. Your roommate was on her way out when she bumped into Lip. 

“Oh, hey,” she said. Lip nodded in acknowledgment, adjusting the gift in his hand, which caught her attention. “You got her something for Valentine’s Day?”

Lip looked down at the bouquet, “Uh, yeah. Is she here?”

“Yeah, you know her, never leaves the apartment. But it's sweet of you. She’s a major sap, so she'll love it.” Lip was glad to know your best friend approved. He never sought other people’s opinions, but he knew you valued hers.

“I’ve got a date to get to, but I swear to whatever you believe in that if you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.” 

Now, Lip wasn’t easily deterred, but the smile on your roommate’s face as she threatened him had him slightly concerned. You saved him when you emerged from behind the door with a knowing smile. “Leave him alone. You’re going to be late.”

Your roommate checked her phone. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” She innocuously smiled at you before giving a silent warning sign to Lip, and it was then that he knew he needed to walk around eggshells when it came to her.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Lip produced the flowers with a smirk to hide his nervousness. Though he had been hesitant about getting you the flowers, watching your face light up made waiting in the cold and getting threatened by your roommate so worth it. 

You gushed appreciation, the smile on your face growing wide as you placed your flowers in a vase after inviting him inside. Lip watched you with a smile of his own as you added water and set it on the window sill.

You approached him with a simpering grin. “You must really like me, huh?”

He thought back on what both the seller and your roommate said. He wouldn’t just do this for anyone. But for you, he’d stand out in the rain if he had to.

He squinted his eyes, bringing you closer to him. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I need a little convincing.”

You hummed, leaning forward to press your lips against his. You pulled away, leaving him chasing after you. “Only a little, right?”

“Maybe a little more.”

You kissed him again, this time more heated than the last. His hands circled your waist as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers found purchase in his hair, weaving through the messy tufts.

You were about to show him how convincing you could be when your phone chimed loudly, disrupting the moment. Much to his reluctance, and yours, you separated from him to check the message.

“use protection, kids,” was the text from your roommate. You showed it to Lip, who only donned a smirk as he reached for you again.

“Looks like we should take her advice, dontcha think, babe?”

———

click here for a preview to my upcoming lip fic, stress relief!

fic here

[pomefioredove]

i was wondering if you could do Duece, Leona, Ruggie, Azul, Jamil x Christian S/O headcanons? like reader used to be a preacher back at their world, and still kinda preaches in twst (i think rollo believes in God?) like they do all the things Christians should do but still kinda chaotic? their very respectfull and kind yk? sorry for making this a bit long and confusing lol

twst's relationship with religion is so vague and complicated and yet. I cannot imagine rollo as anything BUT catholic. look at that guy. so I believe there's some kind of similar belief systems happening there

summary: religious reader type of post: headcanons characters: deuce, leona, ruggie, azul, jamil additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader yuu, short and not proofread author's note: writing these on the basis that religion does exist in twisted wonderland and parallels religions of our own. I am catholic and admittedly unfamiliar with preaching to others, I think that's more of a protestant thing, so I kinda just winged that part?

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

if there's anything for him to admire, it's your dedication

I mean, you're sticking to your beliefs and passions in an entirely different universe

with a bunch of strangers, no less!

whether or not some version of your beliefs exist here, you're committed! and quite knowledgeable, too

it's pretty impressive to him

Deuce's family doesn't seem particularly religious, though he probably just enjoys hearing the stories

the narratives of change and redemption catch his eye

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

he's big into all those "it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God" verses

even if he doesn't necessarily believe in all that heaven stuff... it's a little funny

(he might use that one in the future, actually...)

if religion which parallels our own does exist in Twisted Wonderland, I can imagine his granny being religious

she seems like someone who'd cover the walls in symbols and art

maybe (likely) not Christian in origin, but enough for him to recognize that what you're going on about is a similar deal

he's practically used to it already

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

literally just falls asleep while you're talking

it's not that he doesn't care, it's just that...

wait, no. he doesn't care

sure, he participates in traditions and such with his family, but that's more for looks

Leona doesn't really see the point in blindly following something that hasn't helped him out at all

and hearing about miracles and blessings just annoys him

but, hey! you make for a great sound machine

these are basically all just bedtime stories for him to doze off to, anyway

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

merman religion is... tricky, to me

the existence of Hades in implies (confirms, even, if we take into account Yuu's dreams) the existence of Poseidon

but, like King Triton, these figures aren't necessarily worshipped. they're depicted as monarchs, not gods

but, then again, our knowledge on Coral Sea culture is limited

in any case, Azul might tolerate preaching

he really sees no use for it, and he's a busy man, but he doesn't really mind the company

if anyone, it's Jade who would be really interested in hearing alllll about these human stories

Floyd might tag along, too

and, suddenly, Azul finds himself wedged between the tweel's shoulders on the floor while they eagerly listen to you

...there goes his afternoon

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

to me, Jamil is not religious or superstitious by any means

he doesn't mind listening, but don't expect him to change his mind about any of that

(especially while Kalim is begging for more stories)

though, even he admits that having you around is as refreshing as it is entertaining

you're just always so... hopeful

and it's much different from Kalim's version of optimism (in his eyes, at least) simply because, in this world, you're at the same disadvantage as Jamil is

your autonomy is constantly in question, you're living at the mere goodwill of others...

and yet, you're hopeful!

it's strange, but Jamil can't help but crave that presence in his life

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x Fem!Reader Theme: Fluff/Angst (just a tiny bit), College AU Author's notes: This is based on a personal experience. College really was something else.

Things you know about Yuta Okkotsu:

One

He was taking a degree in computer science. He once mentioned that he never wanted to take that degree because it wasn't his passion. He liked photography and wanted to pursue that instead.

You met him during your organization's welcoming rites. You were a new member; seeing him there, you assumed he was, too. But he was just invited to take photos of the moment. He was mesmerizing, quiet, and warm. You two never talked, but whenever he pointed the camera at you, it felt like he was talking to you.

Two

He was always worried. Despite being someone who walks and talks like he's the most confident person in the room, you learned that he constantly worries about things, especially during the student body elections. He was running for president, and he confessed that he didn't know how to act like a president when he won. He knew how to lead, and he was grateful that his other members were there to support him.

You told him that you asked everyone in your class to support him, telling everyone that despite being a quiet person, he was capable. He was glad to hear that. You two bonded with the experiences of being a leader, and somehow being the president of your organization and him being the student body president was the same thing.

Three

He likes liking all your tweets. He was always on Twitter, and every time you tweeted about your day or any random thought, he was quick to like it. He would reply or if it was something he doesn't want anyone to see, he would DM you. You always found it cute, so cute that you wanna hug him when he invited you for lunch when he saw your tweet about your friends leaving you behind.

He invited Maki with him, telling you that she was a friend. He kept on telling jokes that failed to make Maki laugh, but you were impressed by how good they sounded. Maybe because you liked corny jokes the most.

You said, "Thank you", and then sent him a message on Twitter again, thanking him.

Four

He never fails to support your artwork. As a Fine Arts student, you always posted your artwork online, and he would be the first one to compliment you, to say that you're doing very good with every art you posted. He would be the first to shower your Instagram Stories with hearts, and it would make you blush all the time.

You did the same with his photographs. You made sure that you followed his Instagram account that was dedicated to his shots, and you never failed to tell him that you were impressed every time.

"Ask me to be your model soon," you messaged him one time, jokingly, but deep inside, hoping he would. "Okay, I will," he replied.

It never happened.

Five

He seems to like girls with serious degrees. Electrical Engineering girls, Teacher Education girls, Nursing girls. He seems to like girls who can make a significant change in society when they graduate, at least, that's what you thought at that time.

He would dedicate posts about his girlfriend, lovely video edits, and ethereal photo shoots, making them feel magical and adored. You wished it was you, to experience how Yuta Okkotsu loves.

You felt like you were led on.

Six

He was still the same.

Both have graduated, grown, learned new things, and developed new interests (his was coffee and yours were historical books) and now, 10 years later, you see him point his camera at you during your college batch reunion. It was a big reunion so him seeing you seemed like a surprise.

You flashed him a smile, a smile that you gave him when you met him during your organization's welcoming rites. After he took your photo, you watch him run towards you, smiling.

"Yuta," you said as he came closer. He smiled so wide that it made your heart flutter for a moment. "Look at this," he said, showing you your photo. You looked magical, adored, the way Yuta Okkotsu shows his feelings. "I wished I asked you to me my model before," he confessed, still smiling. You were surprised with what he said, and you just laughed softly. "It's a little too late for that," you responded.

"I wished I knew sooner," he spoke again, gentleness in his eyes. You breathed. This was excatly how you wanted it to happen, but like you said...

"You were too late, Yuta," you tell him, raising your hand to show him a lovely diamond ring on your ring finger. Yuta's face fell for a moment, then he smiled. "I know I was. Congratulations."

Yuta walked away after a few more words were exchanged, watching him as he did.

Seven

He told you in those moments that him not being brave enough to ask you was his greatest regret.

[footygirl114]

Cervecería (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi friends, this is a bit late (but better late than never?) The one I was inspired to write post that champions league win with Alexia beelining it to someone in the crowd. It’s definitely not the best thing I have written but I know if i keep editing it I’ll scrap it so this is as good as it’ll get 

The need to not live through another Canadian winter was the biggest draw that made you start a second business in Spain. Having started a successful craft brewery in Toronto, you knew exactly what you needed to do, when you brought the craft beer craze to Barcelona. 

You had been in the city for 7 months, your restaurant had only opened a month ago but you were happy with how it was going. It was a process to get it open, but once you realised you needed to find someone who spoke both Spanish and Catalan and was familiar with the restaurant business it became a lot smoother. 

You had found a spot near to the downtown without being ridiculously priced, you wanted to draw tourists but you also didn’t want to scare away any locals. The starting days were slow but as more advertising and more interest in different craft beers gre you started to get busier. Fridays and Saturdays were busy enough you had to hire extra staff, but during the week you liked to be the one behind the bar. 

The whole reason you got into the brewery business in the first place, was because you loved to connect with people and share your love of beer with them. The best way you were able to do that was to be the one serving it, plus it was helping with learning Spanish. 

You also drew in a unique crowd on game days, you had all the subscriptions from back home which meant you were able to play many American sports. You also always had at least one TV dedicated to women games. 

About 6 weeks after you opened you were tending the bar on a slow Wednesday night, the crowd had died off after the Barca Femini game was completed, but you still had a few stragglers around. Movement caught your eye where you cleaning tables and you watched a slim female with her hair pulled in a pony tail, black hat and hoodie on walk in and settle at the end of the bar. 

Moving back behind the bar she looked up and met your eyes and immediately you were drawn in to her expressive eyes. You moved toward her and said “Hola, can I get you anything?” 

She smiled at you and said “Agua?” 

You raise an eyebrow at her and ask “You come into a brewery sit at the bar and order water?” 

She chuckles and shrugs and asks “should I sit somewhere else then?” 

“no no no but let me make you a deal” you smile wanting to hear her laugh again.

She raises an eye brow as she asks “What’s the deal?” 

You smirk and step back moving to pour her a glass of water, and a small taster pint of your favourite beer. You place both glasses in front of her as you tell her “I will keep pouring you the finest water all night, IF you try this small glass of my favourite beer” 

She chuckles shaking her head and smiles at you as she holds out her hand and says “deal.” 

You laugh and place your hand in hers, immediately feeling a tingling run up your arm, you tell her “I’m Y/N by the way.” 

“Alexia” she says and releases your hand and grabs the beer glass. She slowly raises it to her lips meeting your eyes over the glass. She holds your gaze as she takes a sip. 

You keep your eyes on her as she places it down and you ask “well?” 

“I can see why its your favourite” she says with a smile. 

Before you can say anything else another customer draws  your attention away. You have to deal with an issue in the kitchen and one with the supply closets. Its almost half an hour later when you make it back behind the bar. When you get back she is standing up looking around for you. 

Smiling you walk up asking her “leaving so soon?” 

She chuckles and says “si, just needed some fresh air. I can grab my bill though” 

You shake your head and say “it’s on the house” 

“Won’t your boss be upset” she asks with a smile. 

You chuckle and say “I think they’ll be okay.”

“well thank you” she says with another smile. Your name is called by another server and you turn toward them as she says “I’ll get out of your hair Y/N” 

You chuckle out a bye before turning and tending to your team.The rest of the night is spent thinking about the Beautiful girl who sat at your bar. You have a feeling you recognise her but are unsure how you would. Until you are closing up and you see her face on the TV, chuckling you can’t help but think how you just embarrassed yourself in front of the queen of football. 

**

You spend the next week elbow deep in testing a new batch of beer. It consumes you when you have an idea and you cannot put it into the taste correctly. Working late one night the bar is pretty quiet apart from a few regulars, you have taken over a table near the far side of the bar which is slightly hidden. Your notes are spread out all over the table and you are completely consumed in them until you hear your name at the bar. 

You had told your staff to act like you are not here, but when you recognise the voice ask for a water you smile to your self and look up and see Alexia sitting at your bar. As you get up to walk towards her you recall that you had seen the Barca team had played earlier in the evening away. 

“looking for me” you ask her as you step beside her at the bar. 

Alexia and your bartender, Sam, turns towards you with their own expressions. Alexia looks happy to see you, and you bartender is giving you the raised eyebrow as she thought you didn’t want to be disturbed. 

“I thought you weren’t here tonight boss” your bartender asks. 

“boss?” Alexia echos.

You chuckle at them both and you say “I’m not here tonight Sam” to your bartender who gets the hint with a chuckle turning away. 

“Boss?” Alexia asks you again. 

Chuckling you move behind the bar and grab a small pint glasses as you tell her “I own the place.” 

She looks at you and with a low whistle she says “Impressive” 

“thank you” you say as you move and pour a glass of another one of your beers. You place it in front of her and say “If our deal still stands this is another one of my favourite beers” 

She grabs it and asks “if you brew them all do you have a least favourite?” 

You chuckle and say “not really, well just the one I cant figure out right now”

“Can I help?” she asks and takes a sip of the beer with a low moan. “sorry that one is really good” she says with a blush. 

You chuckle and say “its cute” and then immediately blush and say “I just cant get what is in my head to translate into the beer. I have this taste I can imagine but I cannot find the right combination of hops and flavours to get it right” you ramble on. 

“What’s the flavour?” she asks with a smile.

You blush almost forgetting she was there during your ramble and say “I am sorry you don’t want to hear me nerd out about beer” 

She shakes her head and reaches across to grab your hand as she says “I kinda want to know everything you’ll share” 

Before you can respond her phone buzzes and she reaches down looking at the screen and then gets up reaching for her wallet. You place your hand on her wallet and say “This one is on the house in exchange for the ramble” 

“You know I can afford to pay for my beers” she says. 

Immediately you shake your head and say “I know you can La reina, but I do really hope this makes you keep coming back” finishing with a wink.

She blushes at the nickname and leans across the bar and presses a kiss to your cheek as she whispers into your ear “You will make me come back.” She then turns and walks towards the door turning at the door with a wink she disappears. 

You continue staring at the door when you hear Sam walk back behind you and say “Nice work boss, I thought you’d lose her with the beer talk” 

You chuckle and whip your towel at her say “get back to work.”

**

The following two weeks you see Alexia 3 more times at your bar, always on days the Barca team plays. You looked her up after the last time and know she’s not playing yet but is very close to being back. You both have flirted but nothing else other than the one cheek kiss has happened. You both just keeping things light and flirty. She has slowly worked her way through some of your staple beers. 

When the next Barca game happens and she doesn’t show up to the bar that night you have to admit that you were very disappointed. You knew that it was all just a fantasy and flirting but it definitely hurt that she decided you weren’t worth it. 

You were deep in the back room tonight still trying to perfect your beer. You kept one small cask in the back room where you used it to experiment with your brews, this time being no different. Your desk back here was covered in notes and you had a white board with formulas and flavours all over it. During the day the back part of the brewery was a hive of activity keeping up with the demand of brewing beers, but at night it was quiet which is when you loved to use the time to work on your own stuff. 

Tonight was no different, you were still a bit hurt and disappointed in your self for being hurt about Alexia so thats why you were staying hidden in the back not out front tonight. The staff knew you were here and knew not to bug you when you were back here. 

So when you heard the door open you didn’t even look back when you said “Sam I thought I told you not to interrupt me tonight” 

You hear the steps falter and someone take a deep breath as they ask “I was just looking for a glass of Aqua”

Immediately you turn and can feel your cheeks blush as you say “Alexia, what are you doing here?” 

She still doesn’t come any closer as she says “I wanted to tell you something, and then if you want me to not interrupt you I will go”

You nod at her and lean back against the desk behind you.

She slowly steps towards you and says “I know you know who I am, and you should know then that I have been injured and not playing for awhile?” 

You nod and smile saying softly “I do know that” 

She keeps slowly stepping closer as she continues “Well that first time I walked in here, was after one of the teams away games. I still wasn’t travelling with the team and I watched them almost lose and knew that I let them down. So I needed some air and went for a walk, I saw the sign on your bar and decided to come in and have some water and then leave.” 

“But you didn’t” you tell her softly as she stops in front of you.

“No I didn’t” she says. “for the first time in a very long time I forgot who I was letting down, I was able to just be me Alexia, not me the captain who let her team down. That was because of you, something about you just drew me in and I kept coming back any time we played so I could be that person again.” 

You smile softly at her and say “I am glad to help.” 

“Last night was my first game back Y/N” She smiles at you. 

You smile back and say “I am proud of you Ale” 

She steps another step closer so she is right in front of you and grabs your hands softly as she says “The only reason I was able to be back last night and not let the team down was because I kept picturing your voice in my head talking about beer. It helped to ground me and remind me that I am Alexia as well as the captain” 

You close the gap even more and move your hand to her cheek as you say “I am glad that you have that then Ale. I am honoured to be able to do that for you” 

She steps closer and looks down at your lips looking back up meeting your eyes you nod slightly and lean in slowly. You feel her breathe on your lips when the door slams open again and Sam walks in as she says “Sorry boss, need to change the keg.”

Immediately Alexia has sprung back from you and you both turn slightly away from each other. “It’s okay Sam come in.”

“I should go” Alexia says “I have training early tomorrow” 

“You don't have to go” you say at the same time Sam says “did I interrupt?” 

“No you didn’t Sam, I was just leaving” Alexia says as she flees the back room. 

“sorry boss?” Sam says with a smirk. 

“Sam?”

“Yeah boss?”

“how did she get back here?” you ask her. 

She shrugs and grabs the keg and says “I may have told her to come back here at her own risk”

“But you still interrupted?” you ask. 

She laughs and says “honestly I forgot, and needed a keg badly. I really didn’t think you would been that position though boss” 

You blush and move to help her as you say “me either”

**

That moment was burned in your brain, every free moment you had your brain was immediately back in the store room. You watched her sit on the bench in the following champions league game, but you at least now knew why she didn’t come in to the bar on that day. You waited the rest of the week for her to show again, she didn’t. 

It was just before bar opening on the day of the second leg of the champions league. You knew that it was home game and you knew that you wouldn’t see her today. You were hoping she would show tomorrow but you can only hope. 

You were sat at the bar, with your note book open and three samples of your newest beer in front of you trying to decide which one would be the closest to the taste you want. You hear the door open and turn and to greet who you would think is one of your servers since you aren’t open and instead you are shocked and say “Alexia! I didn’t expect to see you today.” 

She is dressed in her pre game outfit when she walks closer to you and says “I needed to see you before I go to play today.”

You look at her with a questioning look and ask “you did?” 

She stops right in front of you and says “I cant get you out of my head Y/N” 

“You can’t?”

She turns you and spins you towards her on your stool. She steps right in between your legs and says “I keep thinking about kissing you Y/N, and I know I should be able to focus on football, but I just keep thinking about you” 

“Thats not good than Ale, what are you going to do?” you ask with a smirk. 

She smiles and says “I know what I want to do but I do not have the time for that.” 

You chuckle and move your hands to her hips and you ask “want to make a deal?” 

Smirking she nods and says “what’s the deal?” 

“You go out and with the champions league and you can kiss me as much as you want” you say with a smirk moving your hand to her cheek. 

She laughs and holds out her hand between you and asks “Only if I can take you out on a date too?” 

“deal” and you put your hand in hers shaking it softly. 

“I have to go” she says softly

You nod and whisper “good luck Ale” before turning and grabbing your pen and writing your number down on a piece of paper. You hand it to her with a smirk saying “I hope this will help you focus now”

She smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek saying “I have an objective now I will be fully focused on completing it.” as she backs away slowly. 

You chuckle watching her and say “Good luck la reina” 

**

The month in between the day the deal was made and the champions league final was a tense one, in the best way possible. Anytime you both texted, which was any free time between her trainings and games and your bar, the flirting was relentless. You only saw her twice in the month but she confessed to you that she couldn’t see you or else she would have to, in her words, “press you against the wall and make you see stars.” 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either but you wanted to hear her voice, which lead to phone calls every single night. No matter how late you were at the bar she would sleepy wake up just to ask you about your day. 

The day of the final she called you as she was about to leave in a bit of panic. She needed to hear your voice to remind her that she is Alexia too and not just the captain. All of the media and build up of her return was getting into her head and you knew she just needed to be grounded. You happily helped and reminded her of your deal and you couldn’t wait to taste her. 

The bar threw a watch party and it was packed. The mood was sombre at halftime with Barca being down 2-0. You nervously paced waiting for the second half. When it started and Alexia came on at the start of half you couldn’t help but smile.

It was like the team changed with her and when immediately it sparked the team to score 2 quick goals the bar was electric cheering. When the 85th minute rolled around you were nervous, but you knew that once you saw Alexia gather a crappy clearance from the wolfsburg back line this was it. She cut in once around a defender just above the top of the 18 where she lined up and put a screamer in the top left corner. 

That was it, they held on and the bar was electric and the party lasted all night. You snuck away to speak to Alexia briefly on the phone, but she couldn’t talk as she was pulled away. You turned the excitement you had and finally got the mixture right on your beer. You immediately had given samples out to have a second opinion and it was a hit. 

She inspired you just like you did to her. When the parade for the team was organised and you knew they would be coming out side your bar you kept an eye out. Once it was the time for them to come this way, you pushed your way to the front of the crowd. 

When the team came around the corner you hoped that you would be able to catch her. It was like when she came around the corner she could sense you, as she immediately met your eyes and her smile lit up her whole face. 

You watched as she turned and almost sprinted to you, when she reached you she had placed her hands on your hips pulling you in. You placed your hand around her neck with a smile as she says “A deal is a deal Y/N”

You nod and say “You won it all Ale, time for my end of the deal” and you lean and press your lips to hers hard. She immediately presses back and you lose yourself in her forgetting about the crowd around you. You just feel the sparks only she has been able to give you. 

When the need to breathe comes to much you both pull back and you slowly hear the crowd around you again, where you pull back slightly and whisper “wow.” 

She smiles and says “I gotta go finish this thing” with a jerk of her thumb over her shoulder.

Nodding you say “come by after and you can finally taste my favourite beer I just finished” 

She smiles wide “you finished it?” 

“I did” 

“Then I cannot wait, but only if it comes with the finest aqua you have” she says with a smile and you cant help but laugh and press your lips to hers one more time. 

[thejockout]

Subject Diaries #0.5 - Jockout the Subject, Part 2

(okay this is the last edging post of this series lol)

Last time I discussed my history/beliefs around masculinisation and erotic TF hypnosis, just to give a foundation of how I think about this stuff.

NOW to get into the slightly juicier details; what am I into, and what have I achieved so far with hypnosis?

WELL. What I'm into is an interesting question; and it's changed a lot in the last 2-3 years. If you'd asked me then what I was into, the answer was a fairly limited range of hypnosis: I was into "dumb jock" style brainwashing... and not much else. I didn't do a lot with either sub/dom-coded files, and had yet to discover several of my major kinks! It's kind of weird looking back at how little I used to be into, tbh. But I feel like that's often the way with kinks, they kinda spread over time.

For hypnosis, my current core interests are the following:

Masculinisation - specifically shit like changes in media consumption, physical mannerisms like manspreading or gait, and attitude adjustments. This blurs the line with the next point, but really just covers the whole gamut of a "bro" or "jock" type personality, and is the primary thing I've been into for years.

Dumbing Down - this was a kink I was very on again/off again with for a while before finding my balls and embracing it wholeheartedly. Like many subs, I used to really fear being "Permanently Dumbed Down" and losing skills and traits I need for work/my ambitions. But that's not a realistic fear and not really how hypnosis works, so now I embrace it pretty wholeheartedly. Nothing hotter than coming out of trance unable to spell or think straight. I love seeing the changes in my communication that come from it, and the actual feeling of hypnosis-induced brain fog. (And, being seen as a dumbass is a big kink too, and a nice ongoing goal.) Also included here is the whole subcategory of like, wanting to be malleable and easily hypnotisable, wanting to be someone who drops like a stone and is super impacted by suggestion. I've got some friends who come to mind when I talk about that, and it's always hot to see how easily they sink.

Corruption - this is sort of a broader, underpinning kink to the rest of the stuff I'm into; but it's a desire I have to want to be changed, to have someone coy and sly and sneaky manipulate me into changing in ways most would consider "for the worse." Making me dumber, more single-minded, more narcissistic, more self-indulgent. Fuck, bro. I get off on the idea of someone making me into their personal monster... especially if it goes a little too far from their POV and they can't walk it back. This underpinning desire for corruption is sort of what fuels my love of Dumbing Down and, in recent years, super Dom-coded Toxic Alpha type hypno generally. It's play I think you need to be careful with, but I've been having a good time so far and don't think I'd have ever started making files like Brute if I hadn't gone in that direction myself.

I listen to files outside these three themes, but generally they need to have at least one for me to be into them, and the best tick all three boxes.

I briefly listed a few files I'd listened to a bunch in my previous Diaries post; those being Jack Drago's Masculine Conditioning series, Avis' Sapiens general catalog, and Rigsby's Absolute Jock. I've probably listened to 100s of hours of both the MC-series and Avis' work. My time on Absolute Jock was a looot lower, but tis the best of the old guard of jock files on WarpMyMind. Overall, it's a lot of time to have dedicated to this kinda hypno! So you'd expect to see some results, right?

...Yeeeahhh, well, I'm still kind of a Work In Progress on that front. I have seen results, but I held myself back with anxiety and overthinking (about hypnosis) for years of this, so I've really only started to show change in the last year or so. That being said, the years of repeated conditioning have done a number on me lol.

EFFECTS I'VE SEEN

Successful Media Brainwashing - I did the unthinkable and successfully made myself a sports fan via hypnosis. It's kinda weird. For years I really struggled to even get through a game; then with hypnosis, I gradually started to just get suuper horny when I watched sports instead, which wasn't really any better because I'd just jerk off and lose interest. But sometime in the last two years, I kinda just got into it gradually and now watch for authentic, general interest. This was a real pipe dream at 17 when I envied how all the jock-types in my class could be totally absorbed and single-minded watching or playing a game, but I ended up getting there in the end! Not American so don't watch American Football/basketball/baseball or whatever, but I like rugby/hurling/F1 ✌️I credit this to Jack Drago's work, specifically Files 2 and 4 of the MC series; Manly Media Bubble and Male Oriented Interests.

General Personality Change - this is a WIP suggestion, but it's been interesting seeing myself change over the last 12 months especially. I've become a lot more dominant, confident, cocky, and even self-centered especially in online kink type contexts. IRL, I've just become more dominant and less willing to take shit; but that's only ever a good thing. It's interesting Because the nature of this kind of change, which happens so slowly over time, is that it can be difficult to look back and see the points where you used to behave differently. But sometimes like... especially since doing Douchebag-type files, sometimes I'll criticise someone or make fun of something and get a surprised reaction from a friend who wasn't expecting me to take it that far. And it always makes me feel a little good to surprise them in that way, to violate their expectations of how Nice I should be. I'm always Nice to them, and to anyone decent, but you've really gotta make me WANT to treat you well to get that now. Some people will read this and feel annoyed, or roll their eyes, but I kinda don't care. It's what I'm into. It's what I've GOTTEN into. (It's all Avis' fault really tbh.)

Libido Increase - this was a slow creeping change overtime, but went from getting off maybe 1x a day/5x a week or so to probably getting off 3x a day currently. Got a lot better at thinking with my dick and am super easy to make horny, which helps feed into the next suggestion on the list;

Dumbing Down - this is the suggestion I've had the MOST recent breakthrough with. For the month of January, I listened daily to @hyphyphurray's Muscle Boy file, interspersed with his Happy Horny Himbo and @avissapiens' Intellect Drain. Dumbing Down was always something I'd struggled to conceptualise hypnotically, but I had a perspective shift this month as to what dumbing FEELS LIKE on an ongoing basis. While under some mild post-trance haze, I wrote this snippet about it in preparation for the post a week ago:

(Don't worry, I'll summarise it.)

The tl;dr of that message is that I realised "permanent" dumbing would feel less like brain fog/tipsiness, and more like apathy towards intellectual topics. It's a priority shift, or a behavioural change; not a magic finger plucking facts out of your brain so you forget the answers. It's sort of like it just fucks with your desire to know things/answer questions instead. The information might still be there, if you hunt; but why would you? Who cares, bro? Does it even matter?

Since making that perspective shift, it's like a few years of dumbing has crept in all at once, and it's been super interesting. I'm not going to over dramatise it (I'm desperate NOT to become an RP-type blog with this) because in contexts like writing, schoolwork, etc., I think just as clearly and easily. But in leisure contexts, in hypnosis, just in chatting with bros... I feel that intellectual apathy creep in allll the time. Trying to think of an answer to something and just giving up two seconds in, because "it's easier not to think about it." Trying to remember something and quitting because "if it was that important, I'd have remember." Letting my typos and message flubs sit because "they can figure it out lol" and not over analysing whether everything I say is totally coherent or rich.

I understand the irony of me speaking in huge depth about this here, when what I'm saying is that I'm thinking less. But like I said, it's kinda contextual. If anyone was interested, I'd consider writing a hornier post under the influence of trance sometime so the difference can be seen, but right now... I'm just taking this a little more formally, I guess? Idk, I'm torn between wanting it to be pseudo-educational and also just having made myself horny writing so much about dumbing, and when I'm horny I REALLY feel that haze start to creep in and I kinda wanna just stop this an edge or something and go do anything else that's more fun 🥴

So in the spirit of the post, I'm gonna go do that.

JANUARY WRAP-UP

For the month of January, most of what I listened to were Hyphyphurray's files listed above (the number in green = the number of times I listened to them). They are paid files, but they're well worth the price, and I recommend them to anyone into this shit. I also listened to Avis' Intellect Drain 5-6 times as a supplement because I love how that just makes my brain turn off for a while.

Not sure atm what I'm gonna listen to through February, I've bounced between Muscle Boy and Avis' Toxic Douchebag Alpha a few times so far but will likely commit to one track for the month.

-------

This is post #2 of my broader Subject Diaries series, a blog series I plan to maintain on a fortnightly/monthly basis updating people on what I've been listening to, files I've been enjoying, and effects I've been experiencing. When I'm not trancing, I'm usually off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland, but I am always available for commissions here on Tumblr/Soundcloud if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $55-80, but you can always check my pinned post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi, but you'll have to DM for the first.

[ironunderstands]

Not a question, just very happy it's not just me loving IP3 (or trans Ratio for that matter). Yap away on both

Ugh I love them both so much

Most of my headcanons are when I find something to be better and/or more interesting than it is in canon, or something that’s a great extension of canon, and that’s exactly what trans Ratio is to me.

It takes his already present insecurities and squares them, as now the doctor has to contend with not just being a SMART enough man, but being a smart enough MAN, and adding that extra layer of misery and complexity is just so delightful.

By taking a character racked by self doubt and adding another layer to it, like Ratio being trans, you complicate his current insecurities and give new perspectives to look at them from.

Like in canon Ratio exercises so much because he wants to be the most perfect, best version of himself and has been doing it since a very young age (middle school).

But then you add him being trans to that, and suddenly he’s not just combating being perceived as not good enough, he’s combating being perceived entirely, attempting to try and get others to view him the way he really is, and attempting to live up to whatever masculine ideal that would push away his dysphoria, something prominent within his life from a young age.

I’ve kinda dived into this within my fics about it, but I like the idea that Ratio keeps this a secret from everyone- and I mean everyone. He already doesn’t live up to his own expectations of himself, so to have the rest of the galaxy find out that he doesn’t live up to their expectations of him either (ie being a cis man I mean you cannot tell me there aren’t like hundreds of people in universe begging for his uh- yeah), it would crush him.

I mean considering how guarded he is already, adding another thing to hide behind that alabaster mask would be fun, even if I think Ratio is likely at least a decade post-op + post-transition, so it’s not like he has to bind or anything, but the threat is still there. Especially considering his well known love of baths- imagine if he avoided the public baths at his home planet (considering how heavily Greek/Roman inspired Ratio is), and how that might affected him growing up, or just the tendency of shirtlessness in general.

There’s just a lot of possibilities and intricacies to it that makes me really like this particular headcanon, and it will always be canon in my heart haha. I have some more silly things behind it, like me wanting to give Aventio and Ratiopaz biological kids because it would be cute, or just the inherent joy of the big buff guy actually being the trans one rather than who you would expect it to be/who it’s stereotypically made as- Aventurine, as I like when characters have traits you don’t expect them to possess.

I also tend to dislike Aventurine being made ftm because he’s implied to be an SA survivor and rep for amab victims is already kinda abysmal so I don’t like taking it away, also I just think it’s boring tbh, at least for me it just doesn’t interest me.

Trans Topaz is a whole other discussion, personally I think she’s mtnb, and more femme presenting (I’d make her use she/they in my fics it’s just pronoun swapping when writing polyamory is miserable and anybody who’s ever written it can attest to that 😭, it’s there in spirit I promise!)

I honestly don’t have deep reasons behind this one, it’s just pure vibes. Someone was like, “Topaz gives nonbinary” once on here and I’m like yeah, yeah she does 😭. She reminds me of Childe a lot and I also view him as nonbinary so she’s kinda in a similar boat.

I think she’s very motherly but like in the way Mother Nature is if that makes sense? Mother is mothering but she’s also a creature tm* and certified tax collecting humanity loving entity. Also I have a close friend who’s a trans woman and Topaz reminds me of her so like, bam ur trans now lol (hi Alice if ur seeing this).

As for Aventiopaz, I fear I’d need a whole other post dedicated to why I like them. You guys know why I like Aventio, Avenpaz also require a whole other yap session, and Ratiopaz is the best rarepair ever fight me. Generally I like it because it’s really sweet, the dynamic is hilarious, they are the power trio of all time, they have great gameplay synergy, and their designs complement each other a lot- being primary colors and all.

I also enjoy their individual unique relationships to the IPC and how that might affect their interactions with one another, both in canon and in my brain. Moreover the trio of coworkers who are well known around the office for a) getting the job done and b) being absolutely obnoxious around one another (in a good way) is incredibly fun and I enjoy the idea of all the shenanigans they would get up to.

Perhaps my next Aventiopaz fic would be them going on a mission together or something, as I definitely want to write another one, and also update my slideshow of the parents au, I’ve just been so busy and a bit unmotivated 😭 so hopefully I can get to that soon

[phoenixyfriend]

Will you share what makes you ship Anakin/Cody? It's a pairing I'd never have considered, so I'm really curious what makes you interested in it!

This is an interesting question for a few reasons, but I think I should link this post first.

One of the ship dynamics I gravitate towards, especially for Anakin, is 'incredibly powerful/skilled person who is desperate to please, and the person who is largely unimpressed with their baseline level of skill and power, but will genuinely and meaningfully praise/acknowledge the thing they put a real effort into.'

I think Cody is really, really unimpressed with Anakin's shenanigans, and he shows it. He's a walking raised eyebrow with "and?" hanging in the air. He knows Anakin is powerful and great with droids, but can he hold his temper? Can he remember and implement the battle plan that Rex drew up? Can he [redacted horny challenge]?

Anakin wants to impress Cody, and Cody wants Anakin to behave, but also Cody wants to see what makes Anakin tick. He's a very strange and emotional man, and that's a bit of a challenge to figure out and settle, and Cody imo likes a challenge.

In my mind, they didn't love or hate each other on first sight, they were just... wary. Cody had just spent a few weeks getting to know his new boss, and said new boss had mentioned his brother-son at least twice an hour. Cody goes in knowing that Anakin is reckless, but a genius, and lacking in common sense. He's emotional and forgets to sleep when he dedicates himself to a task, and is still getting used to his new arm because he tried to fight a Sith Lord 1v1.

Anakin comes into this situation knowing that Cody is competent, and that Obi-Wan describes him as a good man, and that the two seem to get along pretty well. Being Anakin, he's a little worried about getting replaced, but this is someone Obi-Wan has to work with, and it seems to be on the up and up, but they've had a few weeks to get to know each other without him there, so he's anxious, because in Anakin's mind he is the only person that should ever be Obi-Wan's SiC, but also, Obi-Wan likes this guy alright and the guy in question has managed to keep Obi-Wan and a bunch of soldiers alive so far, so he can't be that bad, so Anakin should try to get along with him, or Obi-Wan will be disappointed, or even upset, and Anakin can't deal with that right now.

So they meet and it's awkward and they try to settle into a working relationship of some kind, and it mostly is... okay. Anakin snaps and gets aggressive sometimes, but Cody is just a wall to it. This isn't great for Anakin, personally, who's used to 'not taking this shit, will wait silently for you to stop being a dick with obvious judgement' from people like Windu, but it works. Cody doesn't enjoy Anakin's behavior, nobody does, but he can deal with it and he's seen a couple brothers come through injury-and-prosthesis with a short temper, so like. Sure. Whatever.

But then Anakin starts coming to Cody for help with tactics and strategy, because Obi-Wan is busy, but Cody is basically Anakin's peer, right? And Cody was super trained in this? And that determination from Anakin to get good at war--whether it's for the sake of Anakin's own ego and need to excel at everything, or for the sake of keeping Cody's own brothers alive--sparks some interest from Cody. Anakin is trying. He's not good at it, not yet, but he's sharp and he asks good questions, and he doesn't doubt Cody's expertise... at least, not too often.

But Anakin does that to Obi-Wan, too, so Cody doesn't take it personally. This is just Anakin's personality. It's a flaw.

It helps that Anakin is pretty. Cody knows everyone can tell. He's not the only one that's noticed.

Then Anakin gets promoted, they split for a few months of Anakin leading his own legion across the galaxy, and the legions come back together for Christophsis or something, and Cody gets to see that Anakin is more confident now, rather than just bluster and arrogance, that it's in his walk, in how comfortable he is with the arm, in the fact that he grasps Rex's battle plans with an ease that takes even some brothers a while to learn.

And Anakin still, the second they are in proximity, wants approval. Some of it from Obi-Wan, obviously, but some of it from Cody, too.

Cody likes that. He likes that this incredibly powerful, widely respected Jedi (who happens to be very pretty and basically the same age as Cody himself) wants his approval. Wants his attention. Wants to know that he's doing a good job.

Wants a firm hand to tell him when he's wrong, and to praise him when he's right, and to force him to still and settle when he's about to jitter out of his skin.

I think Cody finds Anakin fascinating before he finds him charming or forms an emotional bond with him, but it's a solid place to start from.

(And Anakin just... latched onto a person that was Good At Thing that paid him attention and then gave him positive feedback.)

(That's like half my Anakin ships, though. It is very easy to make this boy fall in love. The real challenge is figuring out how the other person reacts to Anakin being... Intense.)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for blocking my friends who I suspect wrote mpreg about “me”?

I (21ftm) have two friends who have recently been writing a story together, I’ll call them O and S, O and S are both cis woman my age. They openly discuss the story on our friend groups discord server in a channel dedicated to this story. O draws the character designs while S primarily writes and they added a character into their story a few months ago who I believe was meant to be me, or at least inspired by me, they’ve done this in the past with other friends of ours who have side characters and cameos, I can usually tell because the character has a name similar to their real life counterpart and a design similar as well, such is the case with “my” character, he is a trans man who looks like me and his name is a shortened nickname of my chosen one.

I wouldn’t have an issue with a character inspired by me but they made him gay and began shipping him with a pre-existing male character which made me uncomfortable because I am very much not gay, the other characters inspired by our friends weren’t given love interests or anything so I can’t say they’ve changed the sexualities of those tribute characters. I don’t care if a character is gay, but this character is clearly meant to be representing me and I’m very uncomfortable with this. People assuming I’m attracted to men is a BIG dysphoria trigger to me and they KNOW this because I told them in the past and when they first wrote this in, all my life I’ve had people assuming I was into men because I was AFAB and I’ve dealt with a lot of “comphet” stuff, I’ve been harassed and haven’t been believed when I told people my actual sexuality, the expectation that I would one day get into a relationship with a man and have children with one was treated like an inevitability by the people around me and it scared the fuck out of younger me.

When they first wrote this relationship, i asked them to change it, i said that if they wanted to put this character into a relationship he could have one with a woman instead, they refused and said they liked the rep it gave, though there is already lots of gay rep in the story and I said that it would still be rep because the character is trans but they didn’t change it, so I then asked that this character could be changed so he wasn’t actually related to me in looks and name and they again refused, which made less sense to me because I didn’t (and still don’t) understand what they got out of writing someone who was basically me into a gay relationship. I gave up because I didn’t want to cause drama in the friend group and other the next weeks I spent less time on the friend groups server and never checked the stories channel because I was still extremely dysphoric and upset. It made me feel angry that they didn’t consider how I felt and dismissed my suggestions.

The next time I checked on that server was a month later and they were discussing the future of the story where some of the characters had children, among those characters that had children were the male character my tribute character was in a relationship with, I came into the chat and asked them how that character had kids, O posted a blushing emoji and said he had kids “the fun way”, I asked further and they said my character also had children and at this point I got really angry and just left the server and blocked them.

Later on one of the friend group J (22nb) dmed me saying that I was being dramatic and that I had no right to control what they put in their story, we had an argument and two of my other friends said I was “ruining the fun” and trying to censor their story and it wasn’t “explicitly clear that it was me”. I originally thought that if you are writing something inspired by someone and it’s making them upset you should stop right? But now I’m not so sure and I’m still feeling very down, I don’t know why they decided to write that in, and especially about someone meant to be a tribute to me, it feels like they’ve taken everything I told them about my dysphoria and distilled it down into something to hurt me.

Aita?

What are these acronyms?

[wordstome]

So… I have a few uni!König questions 🤓📝

(Please, you don’t need to answer all of these unless you want to of course. It's just that this AU has me on my knees, I'm in love with these two nasty gremlins! send help)

1. Does it bother König that their relationship is not official? Or is he happy with the situationship? (This sounds like a stupid question, of course he’s bothered by it. Right?!?)

2. Is König a skilled lover? You said somewhere that reader can’t get satisfaction from other guys because “nobody is as good as König” but does this mean he’s experienced or does he make up for his possible lack of experience in… some other ways? Or is the good sex due to them having this crazy enemies *and* lovers thing going on?

3. Is it enough for König to shoo potential love interests away and off of her by being a hulking possessive menace, or will he still be jealous and butthurt after that? Brood silently for example? Slam doors passive-aggressively? Perhaps even start a full-on argument when they’re behind closed doors?

4. Do you have any hcs of the craziest place(s)/situation(s) they’ve had sex? Obviously because they were so horny or had to hatefuck because the other one said or did something annoying (again)

SALOOOME MY ANGELLL *rubs hands together wickedly* let's do this

1. Not a stupid question at all! In the beginning, it does bother him, especially when he contends with the idea of her sleeping with other guys--or, horror of all horrors, dating someone else. He's also just kind of a traditional guy who wants to woo a lady, but that would require the lady in question to be wooed. At some point, though, he realizes that it doesn't matter how reluctant she is to make it "official", she's not going anywhere. Then he's just intolerably smug about the fact that deep down, she's just as attached to him as he is to her.

2. I'm glad to elaborate on this! König is less experienced than Cinnamon (which is what I'm calling her for now, it probably won't be relevant in the fic itself but I like giving my MCs callsigns/nicknames). What makes him different than the casual partners she's had before is his dedication to pleasing her, if that makes sense. I mentioned in the headcanon post that "him getting better at fucking really just means he's getting better at fucking her". (continued under cut)

I'm going to elaborate more in the fic (if it goes the way that I have it planned), but König becomes so infatuated with Cinnamon because she doesn't treat him like a weird loser to avoid. It's not really that everyone König knows or comes into contact with avoids him or treats him with contempt--he does have friends, but none that are particularly close. Cinnamon is different in that she's an easygoing person (or at least puts on a persona of being easygoing), so whenever König says or does something dubious her reaction is just the equivalent of "haha, you're weird man, but I like that!" (At least until he starts to annoy her in the best way, and then the whole enemies-and-lovers thing kicks in.) Cinnamon's been with a lot of guys who don't really care about her enjoyment or are assholes in other ways, so König treating her like a priority is new to her and also something she can't find anywhere else. And of course, the more they fuck the better he gets 😈

3. Oh, he gets very jealous and pouty for sure. He does a lot of things as a sort of revenge, like scaring off people she’s flirting with. Initially, Cinnamon doesn’t take him that seriously and just humors him, so he never gets far in terms of being mad at her. (Plenty of brooding, though.) He takes it out on her by being rough and degrading in bed, and when he realizes she isn’t interested in anyone else anymore, he’s a lot more relaxed. At that point nothing she does can upset him because he knows she always comes back to him. By contrast, Cinnamon starts getting agitated because 1. She never intended on having a boyfriend 2. She starts to realize she’s fed a very dangerous beast. I'm probably going to write about their first real fight, and it is messyyyyy.

4. The riskiest is definitely a random utility closet on campus. He probably pulled her in there after she spent an entire lecture brushing his thigh with her foot and didn't anticipate just how immediate the consequences would be >:)

I'm also toying with the idea of him fucking her on someone else's bed, specifically someone she used to hook up with 🤭 They locked the door, but suffice to say that guy knows who she belongs to after that.

[moons-of-dewclan]

I was curious how to get your clan really set off? I recently (LIKE EARLIER TODAY JFJSJFJ) started my own clangen blog but idk if it's worthy of Tumblr😭

How can I improve my art and improve my process? You're one of my BIGGEST inspirations ngl you're literally him (or her or they I'm so sorry I never caught your pronouns) but I was just curious on how to be better? If you wanna look, don't. It's like, rlly bad so.... save your eyes. Have a lovely nighttt <33

HELLOOOOO I'M NOT 100% SURE WHAT YOU MEAN BY SET OFF I'M SORRY :{ if you mean to get people reading it, i think it's vastly just luck also appealing to an audience by accident i posted my art online for 10 years (i started posting in 2010 as a wee ka- told you i'm an adult haahahueu) before anyone showed consistent interest and i valued those two or so commenters who occasionally had something to say about my stuff, so much LAKSNLKD. that entire decade i got between 2 and 30 favourites for every piece i posted- usually between 2 and 10- until around 2021 when a making a comic aANNND joining a wolf ARPG group exposed me to many kindred art-enjoyers that wanted to keep up with my goofy stories then for some reason, i posted Dewclan's first page on tumblr and it got way more engagement than any other piece of art i've ever posted SO LAKSDNLKDAS WE CANNOT PREDICT THESE THINGS.. at least i can't if you're looking for engagement, pLS AIM FOR ENGAGEMENT THAT FEELS MEANINGFUL over anything else IN MY OPINION, and it's just my opinion- part of being 'better' is, first and foremost, being able to enjoy your art alone. and then being excited with what you choose to share! even if you don't care about your quality of art, care about the story. if you don't care about the story, care about the process and just having fun. but you have to have fun in doing it, and do it for your own eyes primarily. like if you were alone in a room and creating only for yourself! because, until you happen to find others who like what you're liking, you are then when someone is interested and you get to share that excitement, even that ooone comment on something you care about is OOGHHH SUCH A NICE FEELIN. enter communities, comment on other artists' work, try to make friends! but make sure to remember, if you create with the hopes others will like it, without liking it yourself, you're going to be really broken down if someone doesn't like it FOR you :{ loving your own art is tough work but it's integral to your longterm relationship with drawing ON IMPROVING.. for me, nothing is more integral to improving than finding a way to practice that suits you (looking at live figures doesn't help me at all. i don't know why. it's insane), and having fun doing it. i can't grasp anatomy unless i break it down with shapes. SHAPES ARE EVERYTHING. study the shapes of what you want to draw. break em down by tracing simple shapes over your subject. see if the leg is the same length as the head from muzzle to neck and lock that info in. STUFF LIKE THAT on the technical side of things, it can be super helpful to dedicate half an hour or so to drawing a day- eventually it becomes a habit and you just default to 'oh i think i wanna draw' when you've got nothing else to do. more drawing, more improvement!

HONESTLY THO another important thing is not putting yourself down. i know it's a hard habit to break (i struggle with it outside of art myself!), but it doesn't do you any favours. the more you rag on yourself, the more it'll manifest as something that actually damages your art, AND your relationship with it. let it be fun- don't sabotage yourself! you can be critical of your work and still kind! little tip here, improving can take a while, but experimenting with styles can make an INSTANT shift in how you perceive your stuff. ALSOOO EXPERIMENT WITH DIFFERENT BRUSHES FOR SKETCHING AND LINING. I PROOMISE. PLS DO IT. IT'S LIKE A MAGIC TRICK. i cannNNNOT sketch with a hard brush. everything looks horrible. marker brush tho?? so smooth. full of character. lovely. binary brush sketches? suddenly i'm Anime. pencil brush?? i digidevolve back into baby ka who loved to crosshatch and do semi realism. airbrush??? i explode into atoms actually

i find for a lot of people, they don't need to improve or be 'better' at art, they need to learn to enjoy what they're capable of doing now, and improvement is a byproduct. from what i've seen through the years, unless you work to curb it the negative view of your art will stick with you no matter what 'skill level' you get to bc the calls' comin from inside the house, yknow what i mean 3: it can be a long process to learn to accept your art, and sometimes you just plain grow out of it over time! but in the meantime it can't hurt to make efforts to fight your d e m o n s

I'M SORRY I WROTE SO MUCH IK YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS ALL IT ISN'T JUST TO YOU, ODESSY-CLAN BLOG RUNNER, IT'S AIMED AT ANYONE WITH ARTSY SELF DOUBTS. i hope i phrased everything kindly bc i meant it all kindly 3: i hate to see an artist doubt their work, but THERE IS NO SHAME IN IT. i want to encourage loving it regardless of any flaws tho, even though it takes time!

[mssr-crumpled-paper]

Gale and the Unperfect Victim

Here I am, back again with Gale posting cause I still have more thoughts on him as a character.

So, today, I read the phrase "the perfect victim" which is a myth often used to discredit the experience of female victims of SA, to dictate a way that victims of violence/assault are "supposed" to act. And when i tell you the concept of a perfect victim to anything immediately made me think of Gale, as well as the state of colonial resistance at large.

I'd like to preface with the idea that there is no "perfect victim" to any systemic crimes perpetuated. There is no one acceptable way of acting or responding to oppression or violence. With that out of the way let's get into the Gale analysis.

I often see people talk about Gale in this specific formula:

"I still don't like Gale as a character. His anger is understandable but [insert violent response to state sanctioned violence here].

There always seems to be such a conditional in the people's eyes of what is and isn't justifiable violence or resistance. To what means is a war just is one of the central themes of THG (or at least I believe so anyways).

Now this question raises a really interesting point about Gale's character. Obviously, Gale is meant to represent the other end of the extremist spectrum: kill all Capitol people indiscriminately, no matter their disposition and beliefs or levels of innocence; take down the Capitol at all cost.

This, coupled with the fact that Peeta represents the other end of the spectrum (do the right thing and hold onto conscience, choosing humanity for all ends) might present Gale as a heartless, cold killer.

Here we meet the instance of a "perfect victim." Subjected to seemingly relatively the same levels of oppression (some would even argue that Peeta suffered more), Peeta still continuously chooses to pacify. He represents conscience, which manifests in the way that he is soft spoken, generally kind/compassionate, white, blond, merchant's kid, unquestioningly devout, barely ever angry. Do you hear it? The sounds of a perfect victim, someone you're supposed to feel bad for because he didn't deserve any of this.

This view is revoked from Gale, someone who's fought, hunt, and kill all his life. Angry, harsh, not as well-spoken or charismatic, a possessive weirdo sometimes, and violent. His response to violence is almost always with anger, with the biting of the tongue until it bleeds, and then it explodes in everyone's face. "Gale is understandable, but..."

It makes me wonder how much compassion and understanding and help we can truly extend to a person who doesn't respond to violence the way he's supposed to. When they don't lay down and take it, or brood in angry silence, or extend a gracious forgiving hand. People would say he lacks humanity or compassion but I would wholeheartedly disagree. His dedication to his people, to his family, to his friends, to Katniss has manifested into anger and hatred for an imperial machine that has never cared if he died or lived.

I find it funny that somehow, this is always a trait demanded to be fixed by the oppressed. Even in post-war, post-apocalyptic movies where previous minority groups establish a closed community that's hostile to outsiders, that's a moral failing on their part. It fails completely to view the responsibility of the Capitol people, whose true extent of innocence can be argued against (how innocent are you really, when you're an exploitative force actively participating in the deaths and oppression of the lower colony-like districts).

Which then leads me to the posts I've been seeing about Palestine. So much focus on constant martyrdom, which is so important. SO important. But why are we turning our eyes away from their resistance? The truth of it is gratuitous violence is not their first choice, and resistance is always so ugly. We distance ourselves away from the violence to excuse ourselves of the need to have to justify the means to life of an entire people.

"By what standard of morality can the violence used by a slave to break his chains be considered the same as the violence of a slave master?” - Walter Rodney

Do I agree with everything Gale does? No. I won't attempt to justify his notions of violence, but I will beg you to situate them within the asymmetrical power context in which they’re committed.

[watcherthrowaway]

also one real post about this and like, plenty of ink has been spilt on how disconnected watcher entertainment seems to be from its fans but i think the missing piece here is how disconnected watcher is from the rest of youtube. when the catastrophe hit i went to all my terminally online friends, the same way i did after the hbomberguy james somerton video, or after the ned fulmer fiasco, or the creepshowart scandal etc, or every time jenny nicholson dropped a new evermore video, including the ones behind the $2 patreon paywall we all gladly pay for, and for the first time...

no one knew who i was talking about.

these are not insulated people. these are people i can trust to have at least name recognition of almost any youtuber i mention. they know downtherabbithole and strangeaeons and cjthex and kappakaiju and miniminuteman773 and kazrowe and somemorenews etc etc etc

so when i put in the group chat, with no context, 'he wasnt even on cribs' or 'we have no cats kathleen' or 'only humble pagan commune schemes' or whatever, i usually do so with great trust that at least half the group will know what im on about.

this time, crickets.

i backpedaled a little and pulled up the 'ive connected them' meme and the fuzzy blue professor, and i got nothing at all. the only recognition i got was when someone belatedly realized that he had seen the goatman video when it dropped (although he had no idea that they had their own company now), and another person remembered that they had offered to collab with danny gonzalez, a youtuber with twice the subscribers

because she had checked back to see if danny went ghost hunting again, and lost interest because he hadnt.

i also brought it up in my dedicated buzzfeed unsolved group chat but ummmmm i am the only one in that group still watching ever since the shift to watcher oops

the only splash they had made in my again, TERMINALLY ONLINE friend group that watches hours and hours of youtube a day was a buzzfeed video seven years ago, and when they had failed to collab with someone more famous than them. i found myself in the unusual position of having to explain the situation to a bunch of dirty internet gremlins, all of whom heard the whole story and said 'why would they do that'

not 'why would they do that to their fans' but 'why would they do that as youtubers'

even aside from the moneygrubbing, we watcher stans were confused about why they tried to offer us a service we didn't need or want, and i think it obscured the confusion on why they thought it was a good idea at all, when so many other models were available to them. why werent they using their patreon like other youtubers? why weren't they collaborating with other youtubers? why weren't they putting out regular, lower quality content like other youtubers? if they wanted higher quality content, why weren't they partnering with nebula, like lindsay ellis, or netflix, like bo burnham. why didn't they run their ideas past someone like the green brothers, who have jumpstarted scishow and many other similar projects successfully, and are famously good to work with/consult with? why would they try to pull a roosterteeth? don't they know what happened?

and i think the answer is no. i think they just don't know those things. and they didnt bother to check, because they think all those things are beneath them. because they think corporate content is the only worthwhile kind there is.

why else would they think they have to have an office building, keep dozens of people on staff, buy expensive cameras, and build a streaming platform? why do they only collaborate with actors and singers who have corporate entertainment approval? why are they reinventing the wheel on buzzfeed when thousands of youtubers build perfectly stable careers with a mic and a camera, and sometimes hire an editor?

i guess my takeaway from this is that, at least they didnt break my heart as a fan entirely because they fundamentally misunderstood me. they did it, at least in part, because they do not understand how youtube works, or what part they play in it.

they dont understand how people use youtube. it is not a cinematic event worthy of the big tv, it is line goes up playing in the background for the 400th time as i wash my face and put my laundry away.

that is why they spent months and months planning this without ever noticing it was a bad idea, while millions of youtube viewers knew instantly. thats why they didn't start with a more moderate solution, why they never used their patreon properly, why they cared so much about the production value, why they thought a youtube audience, any audience at all, would jump at the chance to leave youtube.

bc youtube as a creator sucks, and we all know that, but youtube as a viewer is extremely comfortable. all i ask of youtube is to be mildly interesting in the background while i do other stuff. it is filler. some of the filler is extremely good, yes, but there is no room or reason in my life to give more of my money and attention to my filler, let alone to get a bigger screen for it.

and honestly, this is why i and others stayed on with the ghoul boys even though their quality dropped. because it's filler. im not even looking at the screen you apparently spent 100k on. im flipping my eggs. im washing my hair. im waiting for the bus with my headphones in and my phone in my pocket. thank you for being my background music. in return i will sit through your ads and push your view counter up by one. i may even hit the like button by accident bc my phone is in my pocket.

this is not to say i dont enjoy my filler. i would absolutely die without it. but it is not and never will be exchanged for the instances when i make popcorn in The Big Bowl and turn on a Real Movie on the Big Screen (my old laptop that is 15 whole inches) with my phone turned over so nothing can distract me.

my filler can't be my movie, and vice versa. nor should it be. but watcher doesnt understand that, apparently. they think youtube is cruelly preventing them from being netflix, and they think we want netflix, and they don't understand that, even with that half-assed apology that they didn't explain their dream correctly and they are jsut so destitute they had to take extreme measures after they went to europe 6 too many times...

there is a fundamental misunderstanding about how people use youtube , both as creators and as consumers. they didn't just misunderstand their fanbase. they continue to misunderstand the entire ecosystem. idk guys. maybe you should have learned something from those youtubers that you apparently think you are too good for.

and as for me, welp. i've booted people from my filler line-up for less. and there are soooooooooooooo many other fish in the sea, and they are not asking me to pay them 27 corporation salaries from my own pocket. they are asking for me to bump their view counter up by one.

goodbye boys. i really hope you find a way to fulfill yourselves artistically or whatever. but you have burned this particular bridge, like. forever. and i don't think i'm the only one who feels that way.

and not because i dont support people getting a living wage, you guilt-tripping vultures, or because i dont believe in following dreams and wishing on stars and whatnot.

but because i prefer to consume content from people who know what they're doing, and i simply no longer trust that includes you.